#I FINALLY GOT TO PLAY SPIDER-MAN 2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iaure · 2 years ago

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𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭

𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 1: 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2: 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞��𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴

CW: delusion, attempted kissing, chase sequence, snitchery, thoughts of reader being a mother, vivid fears of dying, reader is temporarily locked away, reader gets hurt, SpanishDict translated Spanish.

This part switches between Miguel's POV and the Reader's. ♱ stands for the translation being at the bottom of the post. please let me know immediately if there are any errors!

Severe spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ we making it out of nueva york with this one !!!! maybe. there's a poll at the end to determine fundamental plot! please vote after you read and share your thoughts!! i had the she's homeless x spider-man india mashup on loop and reached a higher place of ascension.

wc: 3.8k

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

Miles Morales had escaped, run amok to another world. Jess and Ben were trying to hunt him down, but with no back history on the Go Home Machine, they were stuck playing the waiting game. Margo was working on it, but Miguel had a hunch that her heart wasn't in on it. Traitors, everywhere. And the most painful traitor of all refused to meet his eye. Miguel sat on a chair in front the containment bubble, elbows on his knees with his hands laced together. Y/N had been sealed away, red filament twisting around her like a hamster ball, or a puffed up cocoon. The grapefruit glow bounced off her skin, casting an ominous light over the blooming bruises around her midsection, where her suit had torn from the glass, where Miguel had hurt her. He hated self-confliction. Y/N had betrayed him, the Spider-Society, the multiverse-willingly aided Miles in his escape. She probably was the reason he got away. Y/N had made the conscious choice to forsake the canon. She had known Miles for all of an hour, at most. Y/N threw away everything to help a teenager that (to Miguel, at least) had no idea the damage he was causing. She completely the deserved the situation she was in. It didn't matter what the reasoning was. And now she sat, curled up in a fetal position on the floor, trapped inside a containment bubble, her back to him. Y/N didn't meet his eye, but he knew it wasn't an act of shame or cowardice. It was the idea that he wasn't worthy of it; the idea that he didn't deserve to see her eyes. That she wouldn't even grace him with the idea that she was looking at him. She was being punished like a toddler with time out. Y/N had made a mistake.

But Miguel loved her.

He couldn't dance around the word anymore. There was a monster clutching his beating heart, and it haunted his immortal soul. It was love, as twisted and convoluted as it was. Love for a woman that had her back to him, pointedly refusing to speak. Miguel had seen her anger before. Being on the receiving end felt like a nightmare. Just silence, as thought the two of them were preschoolers and the silent treatment was the most lethal weapon in the schoolyard. He expected her vitriol to be loud, the kind that breeds screaming matches-not this.

"Y/N." Miguel was met with (shocker!) more silence. "Where did Miles go? This is important." Silence. "Why would you do this. You've potentially damned the multiverse." Y/N shuffled a bit, if only to wiggly further away. "You've helped disrupt the canon." Miguel sighs. "You're an adult. You should know better. Miles was a stupid kid-" "That you body-slammed into a train." Y/N finally spoke, biting like a viper and tilting her head a bit to look at Miguel out of the corner of her eye. "A 15-year-old that you saw fit to chase on all fours. His reaction was reasonable." Miguel's conflict swelled. Y/N was talking in that dulcet angel tone, so succulent despite her anger. But her insistence was irritating. She absolutely should've understood, better than any of the teenagers, her little acolytes. Miles was new. It was true that his reaction was...understandable, to a degree. Hobie always broke the rules anyway. Gwen was going through a rough time, and Pav was there to have a good time. But Y/N's brother died because of an anomaly. She of all people should know the threat they pose.

"We tried explaining it to him. It was his choice that he didn't listen. You, on the other hand, you knew the consequences." "I'd rather be a proper hero and fight for what's right, to help those that need help. That's a concept that's hard for you to understand, right?" "Oh, so trying to protect the multiverse is wrong. Okay, okay. Esto es ridículo.♱" Miguel rose from the chair, muttering under his breath and turning with his hands on his hips. His head was reeling. He knew Y/N was stubborn, but this was absurd. "I'm holding every Spider, every world, together!" "Says the guy who didn't even get bit!" Y/N counters, quick as lightning. "If your canon events are so true, then how is Nueva York standing? You answer me that!" "Canon events can differ-" "By so much that there's not even a spider? Get real, Miguel! The kid isn't doing the-the-the-!" Y/N tripped over her words, rising from her curl on the ground and talking with her hands, trying to get her thoughts in one row. "The devastation that you think he is! Canon isn't infallible!" Miguel whipped around, realising he'd come face to face with Y/N. She was panting like a dog, a scowl buried under a grimace buried under a glare. Her eyes were steely, finally meeting Miguel's eyes like rocks crashing with the sea. It was a clash of wills.

And Miguel hated how much he loved it.

What a woman, honestly. If she was this passionate about protecting a teenager she'd just met, what would she be like with her own kids? Miguel was sure that Y/N would be wonderful, always coming to the kid's defense, without question. That venomous tongue would be soft-spoken to a child, one that would have Y/N's eyes and Miguel's hair. Maybe a little girl, a Gabriella that would truly be Miguel's own. No switching places with the dead. No feigning love for a woman he didn't know. No technicolour nightmares. His own little girl, from his own wife. And god! Y/N as a wife! She'd be so sweet, waking Miguel up in the mornings with light kisses, whispering sweet nothings to him, letting his hands water as his slips out of groggy dreams. The rising sun on her skin would light her up like a holy statue, and the moment Miguel was conscious he'd be happy (honoured) to worship. From the second he woke up, to the second he fell asleep, he'd be worshipping, down to his dreams being dictated by Y/N. Holidays, weekends, family trips, saving the multiverse together...it would be-

"What, you going brain dead? Are you even listening?"

Y/N's biting words dragged Miguel back to reality, as hateful as the idea of reality was. His daydreams were so much kinder than this. She was still upset, still trapped behind that red barrier, and they were still enemies. But after the vision of what they could have, it was like a tease to just keep playing cat and mouse. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to torture himself like that. It'd take convincing. A lot of it. But Y/N wasn't unreasonable. She was noble at heart and maybe a bit naïve. But she was a Spider at the end of the day, always looking for the best solution to terrible problems. And that's where it's important. That's okay. Relationships were about compromise, after all. "Y/N." Miguel spoke softly. He really couldn't hide his affections for much longer. It was spilling out of him like a cup, pouring through the cracks and spilling over the sides. And he saw how Y/N shifted. He could tell that she was figuring it out. She could see how he moved. And she slowly backed to the other side of the containment bubble, moving further away until her back was against the wall. Did it break his heart? A little bit, but this was going to take time. All things would.

"Y/N," He repeated. "We...really shouldn't fight. We're-we're special, you and I." Miguel got close to the containment bubble, watching Y/N.

He didn't realise it, but sometime in the last fifteen minutes, the bubble's purpose had changed. It started out as capturing a prisoner, a traitor, someone who was dangerous and could be a threat to society as a whole. But it changed to a shield, protecting a prey animal from a predator. It was Y/N's last safeguard from Miguel doing anything unwise. The dynamic shifted. Y/N could tell it-every hair was on end, every sense was on fire. But Miguel was oblivious. "I'm gonna shut this off," He tapped on the filament, and Y/N swallowed. "Promise me you won't go running off. We can have an adult conversation. We can talk." And maybe Y/N should've protested. She could've asked to keep it on, but who'd admit they were scared in a situation like this? So she stayed silent. She kept in her corner, and irritation reared it's ugly head again. Miguel was trying to be cordial. Why wouldn't she just promise? He was offering her freedom.

(Somewhat. Details didn't matter, not here, not now.)

It's not like he was going to hurt her. It's two measly words. Two words in exchange for a lifetime and some of love, affection, devotion. Was that really too hard of a deal?

"Promise." Miguel growled.

Instantly, Y/N put her hands up in mock surrender. "Promise! I promise." Miguel's heart bloomed. She could be so charming when she wanted to be. So disciplined and playful, a good wife, a good lover. Listening was the first step, and she was listening. Miguel could only grin. "Okay." He put his hands to the barrier as his heart raced. He was so close. A step or two more, and he would have the love of his life in his arms. And Y/N was staying still. There was no tension that he could see. She didn't look like she was about to run. She was just nervous. The red barrier folded out of itself, and quiet suddenly, it was just Miguel and Y/N in a room. When was the last time they'd done this? Miguel couldn't remember the last time it was just them. It was always either in fleeting moments or with other Spiders around. It was impossible to get Y/N alone, no matter how hard he tried. But here she was, just him and her and them and an empty room where no one was going to stop them. She didn't move, watching him like he were a predator in the savannah. Miguel didn't like to say that he was excited, per se. But there wasn't really another word for it.

His eyes scanned over Y/N's pretty face, every inch memorised in Miguel's mind. Her sharp eyes. Her cute nose. Her pretty lips. Her pretty lips. What would they taste like? Did she use lip gloss? What would that taste like? How would it feel to have her lips linger on his? These were dire questions, and Miguel was done waiting. He walked up to Y/N, slow and purposeful. He had to seem as non-threatening as possible to pull this off. And quick, because chances were Y/N was going to do something harsh, like slap him. But it was a small price to pay. After all, he had his whole life with Y/N ahead of him. He just needed to get it started.

Y/N was by no means a stupid woman.

She grew up with the same precautions every other girl did. Don't talk to strangers, they don't have candy in their van, and know when men are about to jump your bones. And in this case, she could practically smell Miguel's thoughts, like the gears in his brain were making smoke from how hard they were churning. She trusted him as far as she could throw him, if she tried throwing him when she was 12 and before she got bitten. That is to say, she didn't trust Miguel at all. He was a stupid, stupid man, and she needed to bolt. So, that's exactly what she did. Promises, schromises. Y/N could say whatever it took for Miguel to let her go, but at the end of the day, she had a responsibility to herself. For all his talk about having an adult conversation, she knew what the look in his eyes was. And when he began reaching for her cheek, Y/N knew it was now or never. Miguel's body weight was enough that she could web him up and hurl him into the nearby wall. It was like watching a cannonball get launched a Mach speed, and his surprised yelp was far more satisfying than it should've been. But he'd done this to himself, and as Y/N booked it down the hallway, she knew she was on a divine clock. Either luck or skill was going to get her out alive, and luck was unreliable at best. She had her hands, her webs, and her brain. That was going to have to make do.

A vast majority of the Spider-People were out, either in their own worlds or helping hunt down Miles. Poor Miles. He just wanted to save his dad. Y/N did her best, did the most she could, but right now? Right now, she had to focus on getting out alive, preferably with her pride intact. And as she heard Miguel's thundering footsteps behind her, an anguished yell, she found it in herself to go impossibly faster. Maybe if she was an outside observer, it would've been funny-a woman booking it past someone standing, only to be followed by a massive, 6'9 blue and red bullet on all fours. Wow. Miguel really did like just running like a dog. Y/N dove down into the lobby of the Spider-Society, ducking and weaving under bridges and platforms. Miguel leapt like an animal, clawing his way onto a platform above and dropping down.

"Stop running!" He barked, getting up to two legs again and reaching out. Y/N could feel his claws miss by a hair, and she leapt off the edge, swinging around and swerving to a platform above, stumbling into the containment room. Rows and rows and rows of sunset orange, anomalies staring at her with wide-confused eyes. None of them were the ones she'd caught, and as she heard Miguel claw up the side of the wall, she knew running wouldn't work forever. She had to do what Miles did-hide, outlast, outplay. These kids were getting too damn smart. Y/N dove behind the anomalous Rhino, praying that it wouldn't elect to shuffle over. It was the biggest thing in the room, the most stationary-and now Y/N realised she was putting far too much stock in luck. If Miguel found her, she genuinely didn't know what he would do. Would he cage her again? Hurt her? Kill her? It all seemed to be a possibility, all at once.

Now, all she could was hope the anomalies didn't sell her out.

In all honesty, she wouldn't blame them. The Spiders didn't have the most ethical treatment of anomalies. She wasn't even sure if they got fed, or what. But maybe a shared hatred for one particular Spider-Man would get it across. Y/N shared a look with a Doc Ock, and he stared at her. She grit her teeth, praying that somehow, the silent prayer would get across. A twitch throbbed in her neck from sheer tension, before the Doc Ock gave a barely noticeable nod. He looked away. It's a cold day in hell when the villains understood Y/N better than the 'good guys' did. Miguel burst into the room, claws tearing up the metal floor. Y/N could see a handful of the anomalies jump, all eyes on him. She had her back to him, and part of her hated how she'd put herself in such a compromising position. Short of her spider-senses, she wouldn't have a clue if she needed to run, and right now, she was having a Spider-Woman check engine light with how much the sense was going off already. It was rendered useless, because thank you very much, she was aware she was in danger.

"Vamos. Prometo que seré gentil.♱" Miguel cooed, heavy steps reverberating throughout the room. Maybe he was muttering to himself, or he genuinely was trying to speak to Y/N, but she knew better than to just leap out and go 'I'm here! Come and get me!'. Spider-Man was funny, but he wasn't stupid. And the same went for his 7290 variant. The anomalies all went silent, and Y/N felt her mouth go dry. It'd been so long since she'd last felt this genuinely terrified. Last time, she was 14, sobbing in an alleyway as she watched her uncle die. This time, she was being hunted by an obsessed, genetically infused daddy longlegs. This was absolutely, totally, completely fine.

"Mi corazón es tuyo. ¿Qué más se puede pedir?♱" Miguel kept muttering to himself, low and quiet and enough that if Y/N didn't have superior hearing, she wouldn't have picked it up. "I need you, I need you, I need you...you need me."

Mm. Y/N wrinkled her nose at that. That just sounded stupid.

Y/N kept her breathing controlled, trying to tame the soreness in her lungs and the shuddering breaths. Bile pooled in her throat as she heard Miguel slowly walk past the rhino, a shake in her hands that she hated acknowledging. But Miguel was terrifying. He was the ultimate predator, trying to hunt Y/N down like prey. She was prey, for the first time in years. She figured that maybe, if they'd done a better job of convincing Miles, then it would make sense. But if this was what the boy was seeing, feeling, then no wonder. She would've jumped off the bullet highway, too. Abruptly, there was a sudden crash, and Y/N's head whipped around to see that Miguel had thrown one of the containment contraptions, hurling it to the wall opposite to her. She practically jumped out of her skin, the bile leaping to her tongue in a bitter, acidic taste. Miguel swore hard in Spanish, howling like an injured dog, damaging more equipment and clawing up anything that wasn't an anomaly. With every hit, every swipe, Y/N flinched, because holy shit that could be her. He could pop her head off with a single slightly hard hit, and it'd be over.

He stalked out of the room, leaping down to the Go Home Machine below. Y/N's sigh of relief felt like it was shared with the whole room, all the anomalies relaxing at once. It's like a thread had been pulled out of a fabric, letting it finally fall the way it was meant to. One anomaly, a fucked up Green Goblin, did a dramatic flop to the floor. Y/N shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. At this point, she'd just abandon ship-leap out the nearest window and web her way out of the city before Miguel could deactivate her watch. And even if he did, then she'd hide out. Nueva York was insane, a metal jungle. She could spend the rest of her life hiding out there, if she had to.

"Beep beep."

Y/N's eyes flew open, looking to her left. Her gut plummeted. Miguel's golden boy, his favourite, one of their best, stood next to her, exactly 4 centimetres high. LEGO Spider-Man, with his teeny little watch. Before, Y/N thought he was cute, like a dog or something. But as his watch flickered to life and the visage of Miguel appeared, she regretted every single instance of her almost stepping on him. "H-Hey, wait-!" She whispered, harsh. "Don't-!" "Miguel, I got eyes on Y/N!" LEGO Spider-Man moved in a way that only a LEGO minifigure could, his head rotating a little bit. The Miguel avatar slowly turned, locking eyes with Y/N, and her blood froze. "Thanks, Peter. You're one of our best for a reason." "Beep beep." LEGO Spider-Man shut off the watch, looking to Y/N. "Sorry. Nothing personal." There was silence for a second.

"Peter." Y/N said. "You fucking suck."

She picked up the LEGO and proceeded to chuck him as far as she possibly could, launching him into the lobby and watching him fall. Some of the anomalies groaned, and already Y/N could hear Miguel barreling his way back to the room. Why the hell could she not catch a break? She only had a handful of options, most of which weren't actually options she could do. There was turning herself in-a non-option. There was calling for help-another non-option. And then there was simply...jumping out the window. The same thing Miles did. Which...felt cliché. Would Miguel really fall for the same thing twice? Literally? Miguel ran into the room, sliding across the floor. There was a moment where he looked up to Y/N, eyes wide and wild. His grin was wide, panting hard with his fangs poking his bottom lip. A flush had bloomed on his face, his eyes blown out like he was on drugs. "There you are," He hissed.

Well. The window it was.

Y/N's sides still hurt from the last time she got tossed out a window. This time, she gave herself the courtesy of bracing herself with her arms, but the glass still hurt like hell. It cut into her arms as Miguel genuinely shrieked, running out after her. There was a moment where Y/N was just in a free-fall, taking a second to reflect on her situation. Did she wake up this morning expecting any of this? No. If she had, she would've texted her neighbour to keep an eye on her fish. But nooo. She just had to get herself mixed up in super-hero shenanigans. She crossed her arms, a petulant scowl on her face. Maybe she still could call to make sure her fish would be okay. Miguel hurtled out the window after her, a hand reaching out to catch the front of her suit. His claws were out, the extra inch and a half proving far more of a threat than Y/N liked. She spun down and webbed Miguel's foot, yanking him down and using him as velocity to shove herself up. He tried the same trick on her, but if there was one thing she had on the 'kilogram of steel vs kilogram of feathers' built Spider was that she was that much faster. She yanked her foot out of the way, webbing to the side of the Spider-Society and slamming into the glass of a floor she'd never even been on before. Miguel plummeted like a brick to the ground, webbing to a building that was that much lower. Y/N had a total of two minutes to decide what the hell she was going to do. So...what was she going to do?

♱ - This is ridiculous. - Come on out. I promise I'll be gentle. - My heart is yours. What more could you ask for?

╰･ 𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙤'𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖 ⨯・ ⨯・@ishqani ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @pix-stuff ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @localdepressedvampire ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @cantchoosejust1 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @tired-writer04 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @neteyamsbulletwound

#divagaciones (per)#୨♡୧ gothic updates #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader

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im-sleepdeprived · 9 months ago

Text

Crazier • Pt. 3

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: ITS FINALLY HERE omg I loved writing this series so much i had a blast. thank you for everyone who was asking me about part 3 because it felt amazing knowing you enjoyed it as much as me😭💕💕 i hope you enjoy !! (beware, she is long)

warnings: some angst thrown in here and there, fluff (later), mentions of breakups, mentions of cheating, very very brief mention of suicide ( someone mentions and old author who offed themselves), me not knowing anything about theater (I apologize in advance), glitter

read part 1 here & part 2 , masterlist

"And when we got the chair, Brad made me sit in it and he pushed me around the whole school!" You were telling Spider-Man about your day, and as always, he listened politely, only chiming every now and then.

"Wow, you and this Brad guy sure did a lot together today, huh?" He said, and even with the voice changer, you could tell he sounded a bit off. "I mean yeah! He's a great guy, way cooler than I originally thought.” You told him, making him grind his teeth hard, not that you saw that.

"Actually I'm a little upset that the play is about to come to an end." Your voice gets a little softer as you confess what's been on your mind today. "The rehearsals have been a blast, and the people are amazing and it's been such a good distraction from everything. I'm really sad to see it go," you looked down at your hands.

Peter took one look at your expression and knew there was something else you weren't telling him. "Well what kinds of things do you need a distraction from?" he asked carefully.

"Um," you looked anywhere but at him, "well, my parents have been fighting a lot lately and it's just been really hard to be around the house, everything's so tense."

His lips parted but nothing came out. He knew about your parents, of course, whenever things got bad you'd always run over to his place to hang out. But now you couldn't do that anymore, so you were just looking for any way to avoid coming home for as long as you could.

"And of course, there's that whole breakup." you continued. "But I've been pretty good at ignoring that so far, and I think that's just the way I'll keep going." You drummed your fingers on your thigh as you stared into nothing.

"Do you really think that's the best way to go about it?" He asked hesitantly. "Maybe you shouldn't just completely ignore something like that."

You gave him a questioning look, "And why wouldn't I want to forget about it? Isn't that what you're supposed to do eventually after a breakup?"

"Yeah, eventually," he repeated, "but wasn't that relationship a big part of you? Ignoring everything isn't gonna make all your feelings go away. You have to face your emotions, embrace them, and go through the motions before moving on."

He hated that you seemed to be fine all of a sudden. That you were getting so close with this Brad guy all of a sudden. It might've been selfish, but Peter didn't wanna see you moving on just yet, he still had a tiny hope in the back of his brain that you might take him back if he waited till just the right time. But the more you kept talking, the more that tiny hope diminished.

You snorted, "Ok Dr. Spider-Man, I'm not sure a guy running around New York in a bright onesie is qualified to give out relationship advice, but you do you.”

He couldn't help but let out a laugh. "I'll let you know I give out great relationship advice and I'm not wearing a onesie," he huffed. "It's a super suit."

That just made you laugh harder, "Yeah, sure, whatever dude."

"So you and your team won?" he asked. He wasn't about to waste the only time in the day when he got to speak with you being jealous. He was gonna keep this conversation going. Try his best to give you what he never could as Peter.

"Yes!" you beamed. "Oh and look," you scrambled around looking for the crown you had received after you won. You had brought it up with you just so you could show him.

You put it on and straightened your posture, "We were rewarded with these fabulous crowns.”

Spider-Man let out a loud laugh. "Wow, you look like true royalty."

"Don't I?" you grinned. "I always wanted to be a princess when I grew up, so this is very fitting for me." You tapped the crown lightly and grinned at him.

Peter was sure he was grinning like a lovesick idiot. He remembered you telling him this, your crazy childhood dream during one of your late-night talks. He truly believed that if anyone in this whole world were some kind of royalty, it would be you.

“Just like Rapunzel.” He murmured. Your head perked up at that. “Oh my god,” you rush, “YES! Holy shit! She was my absolute favorite as a kid, how'd you know that?”

He fumbles a little but quickly finds himself. “You were humming ‘I See The Light’ a couple days ago. It was an educated guess.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “Glad to know I got it right though.”

You laughed a little and settled back down. “Dude, I'm not kidding. I used to eat yellow flowers as a kid 'cause I thought they’d give me magic hair.”

At that, Peter loses his mind. He’s cracking up and you're joining in beside him. This, he thinks to himself. This is what he’s been missing. This is how things should be. He can't help himself, the words are leaving his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts.

“So what about your ex? How’ve things been going with him?” Nice going dumbass. She's never gonna wanna talk with you again if you keep mentioning her ex-boyfriend.

You looked at him weirdly and started twisting the ring on your finger. “Why do you wanna know?”

“I-just I…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Well actually, I'm going through a breakup too, right now, and I guess…I don't know, hearing you talk about it, about him, makes me feel less alone.”

Peter Parker feels like shit. He feels like a total asshole. And yet, he doesn't feel bad enough to stop, to come clean. Not yet at least. He tried making himself feel better by thinking, ‘Well it's not a lie. I am going through a breakup. She just doesn't know with who.’

You stared up at him, shocked. He never shared anything about himself. Not a thing. You two joked back and forth but you were usually the one sharing personal issues (or triumphs, like today). You start to wonder what his personal life looks like. He can't be that much older than you from what you can tell by his sense of humor and some of his references. This man, no, boy, who spends practically all his time running around one of the most popular cities in the world, saving lives and changing them, is going through a breakup. And he’s currently sitting on a rooftop with you and talking about it.

You blew out a long breath. “If Spider-Man can’t find love, none of us stand a chance.”

He let out a soft laugh at that. “Ah, I wouldn't say that. I definitely have my fair share of flaws. And then some.”

You shake your head, “I'm sure the good outweighs the bad. I mean, come on,” you gestured towards him.

He laughed again. “So tell me, you still see him every day, right?

You nodded, deciding that if this made him feel less alone, you could do this.

“Is it hard?”

You shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague. I’ve only run into him once and it was when me and another friend went to grab ice cream at our old hangout spot. I couldn’t look at him. I haven’t spoken to him since everything and I don’t really want to. Not anytime soon.”

He sighed. Of course, you didn’t wanna speak to him as Peter. He’d totally fucked you over, he’s lucky he found any kind of loophole at all because he really doesn’t think he can handle not speaking completely.

“How do you think he feels?” He has no clue where the question came from but now that he’s asked, he can’t help the curiosity bubbling in him.

You run a hand through your hair and sigh, “I have no idea. One second he’s avoiding eye contact in the school hallway and the next, he’s staring daggers at me in an ice cream shop. He’s weird.”

Spider-Man chuckled lightly, “Yeah, he sounds like he is.”

“Do you see your ex a lot?” You hope he doesn’t see it as prying, you just want to see how similar your situations are.

“Yeah, actually, I do.” He nods but says nothing else.

“Is it hard?” You ask softly.

He nods again, keeping his eyes low. “Crazy hard. Especially when I know everything is my fault.”

“Do you think she’d ever forgive you?” He only shrugged. “Do you want her to forgive you?”

He looks up at you, “Would you ever forgive your ex? After whatever it is that he did, I mean.”

You took a moment to think. “I don’t know. I think it’s different. I mean, I don’t know what happened between you guys, but I think with Peter and I, I think he was starting to lose interest.”

He can feel his heart drop. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Yeah,” you continued, not taking notice of the spider slightly freaking out beside you, “he just stopped caring. Stopped showing up, and stopped listening. If I didn’t know any better I’d actually think he’d cheated on me.”

“No way! I mean-,” he cleared his throat a little, trying not to sound as anxious as he felt, “Do you… do you actually that he did? Cheated, I mean. Do you seriously think he cheated on you?”

Please say no, please say no, please say-

“No, of course not,” you told him honestly. “Peter’s a lot of things, but he’s not a cheater. I’d accuse him of that.” You paused for a moment. “But there was something…I don’t know what. There was something he wasn’t telling me.”

He let out a breath of relief. Thank god, he doesn’t think he could’ve handled knowing you thought of him that way. And it’s true, he would’ve never stooped so low. As for the ‘something’…

“Say he were to show up, right now, knocking on your door. Begging to have you back and swearing that he’s changed. Would it work?” He asked half serious and half joking.

You laughed a little, “No, but it’d probably piss off my parents.”

He grinned beside you, his mask shifting slightly at the movement. “Aw come on. Not one for big romantic gestures?” He nudged your shoulder a little.

You smiled but your expression fell as you thought about his words some more. “No, I’m just not one for empty promises. Which is all he had to give me after a while. He used to be amazing, he used to be the perfect boyfriend. The Peter I knew disappeared and I wasn’t a fan of the one who replaced him.”

You look up at him and grin. “If there’s any chance of anything being repaired between us. Even a friendship. He’s gonna need to get his shit together.”

“So he cheated on her, which fueled her depression, and ultimately led to her suicide. And that wasn’t enough so he burned her most of her work, and profited off of the rest of it after she died!”

This is what your mornings looked like lately. Hanging out with MJ so much had been…interesting to say the least. There was always something you could learn from her. Currently, she was telling you all about some ancient female author’s shitty husband as you waited beside her locker while she grabbed everything she’d need for her next class.

“Every article online about it says ‘allegedly’ but fuck that. It’s totally the truth,” She finished.

“God. That sounds awful,” you grimaced. “Whatever happened to him? Didn’t they have kids?”

“Oh, he married someone, won a ton of awards everyone loved him. And yes, a son, who also dies by suicide, and a daughter. I'm pretty sure she writes kids' books now.”

You sucked in a breath. “Holy shit. And where did you learn all this?”

She shrugged. “I read a lot.”

“Right,” you nod, unable to completely shake off the grossness that story left you feeling. “So,” you started, hoping to change the subject. “What do you have next again?”

“Biology. But I think we have a sub today, so that’ll be fun.” She slammed her locker shut, leaned on it slightly, and turned toward you. “What about you?”

You shook your head at her, “Free period. I was gonna catch up on my reading for AP Lit. Hey,” you wondered aloud, “is it that sub that marks people tardy even if they’re a second late? I can’t stand him.”

She sprung up. “Shit. Shit. Fuck,” she rushed out. “It is. And I can’t get another tardy otherwise I get detention. Again. And my parents would kill me.”

You nodded, completely understanding. “Okay. Well, I’m just gonna go grab my stuff and head to the library. See you later!”

“Bye Y/N/N!” She yelled over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall.

You laughed lightly before heading to your own locker. You opened it and grabbed your bag when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You slam your locker shut and turn around, only to come face to face with Brad. “Hey, Brad!” You grinned.

You’d never really noticed Brad before. You never had anything against him, you both just ran in different crowds. Even after you both started working on the play, you were friendly with each other but it never went past a simple smile, wave, or quick ‘hello’. But in light of recent events, you were really starting to think of him as a friend.

“Hey.” He smiled right back. “Saw you here and thought I’d just stop by and ask how you’ve been.”

You gave him a closed-lip smile as you leaned back against the lockers. “That’s sweet. I’ve been okay, long morning though. What about you?”

He nodded. “Same. Stayed up pretty late last night going over my lines.”

“Really? Don’t really think you need that. I’ve seen you at rehearsals, you’re a natural Brad.”

“Yeah? You think?” He grinned wide at your compliment and ran a hand over his hair. “I’ve got ‘em memorized and all, but I just wanna make sure I know them, y’know?”

You nodded. He wants to make sure his delivery is as good as his memory. That’s another thing you didn’t expect from Brad Davis. His passion for theater.

“Well like I said, I’ve seen you at rehearsals and I mean it when I say I think you’re fine. More than fine actually. So don’t stress yourself out Davis, you’re gonna be amazing.”

He beamed at you like a child. “Thank you Y/N, seriously. You don’t know how much that means.”

You smiled right back at him. “Anytime.”

It was quiet between you two for a bit, and you didn’t really know what to say. You were about to ask if he had a class he needed to get to when, suddenly, he took a few steps closer to you.

That automatically took any words that might’ve been on your tongue and threw them in the dumpster behind the school.

“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.” His voice is softer but, you hear every word and you can almost feel his breath on your face.

“Oh?” Your voice matches his volume. This can't be happening. He knows you just broke up with Peter. He’s gotta be kidding. Or maybe, he’s about to ask something about the play. Yes, you think, he’s got a question about the play and he’s come to ask me, obviously, because I’m the director.

The halls are quiet now, everyone else is in class, at the library, or something. It's just you and Brad, standing so close you could count his lashes.

Just you and Brad. Brad, who won’t stop staring into your eyes for some reason, so you’re just left standing there….you and Brad.

And Peter.

The sound of squeaky sneakers running down the hall seems to break him out of whatever trance he was held in and he steps back a bit, almost causing you to let out an audible sigh of relief. God, you could just kiss the person who decided to unintentionally interrupt whatever moment was just happening between you two.

Or not.

Because when you both turned to see who it was, your heart fell. Peter Parker is standing there, backpack hanging off his elbow, binder bursting with loose papers in hand, and staring at you like a deer caught in headlights.

For a second, none of you say anything. Brad’s looking confused, staring at Peter. Peter is looking at you, then at Brad, then at you again. And you, well, you’re just wishing the school hallway would split in half and swallow you whole. You’ve run through a few different scenarios in your head, and falling into the earth’s core sounds the most appealing.

Then Peter moves closer, clearing his throat as he approaches the both of you. “Hey guys, how’ve you been?” He asked.

Neither you nor Brad replied.

“Right. Hey man,” he turned to face Brad, his face suddenly serious, “don’t you drive a black BMW? Red rims, red interior?”

“Um, yeah, I do,” Brad answered skeptically.

Peter blew out a long breath. “Think you might be in trouble dude. I just heard the principal saying he was gonna get it towed, something about you parking wrong.”

“What?!” Brad’s whole demeanor changed on a dime and you almost felt sorry for him.

Peter held up both his hands. “I’m serious man, that’s what I heard. But don’t ask me,” he pointed to the hall behind him, “go ask Mr. Morita.”

Brad stared at you for a moment before walking off, mumbling something about ‘another fucking ticket’ as you watched him leave. You almost grabbed his arm like a child, almost asked him to stay, just so you wouldn’t be alone with Peter.

You swallowed. Brad had finally turned the corner, leaving him officially out of your eyesight and leaving you standing alone with your ex. It’s funny really, how you went from talking about suicidal classic authors with your friend a few minutes ago, to this.

Yup, the Earth’s core sounds amazing right now.

For all the words he had to say when Brad was here, Peter was awfully silent now, doing that weird stare thing he did in the ice cream shop the other day. But there was no Ned to play polite this time, and no MJ to hold on a leash so she doesn’t bite. It was just you and him.

And you had no problem running.

You turned so quick, it took him a second to register the movement, and by the time he did, you were halfway down the hall. He ran after you.

“Y/N, wait. Please.” He reached out a hand to place on your shoulder. You jerked away, his hand barely brushing your cardigan.

You’re both standing in the hallway, and you’re still avoiding his eyes when you say, “We’re not doing this.” You shook your head and ran off, leaving a somber-eyed Peter in your wake.

There was no parking violation. Peter lied. But he had to.

He’d gotten caught up doing some last-minute homework in the library. Spider-Man duties were keeping him busy lately because when he wasn’t fighting crime on the streets of Queens, he was spending time with you.

He knows it isn’t right, he knows it isn’t fair, but god if it doesn’t feel good. He loves spending time with you and he hates that he can’t do it more often, hates even more that it’s his fault. And he damn sure wasn’t going to cut your meetups short because he had a few math questions waiting to be answered.

So on his way back, the halls were empty when he suddenly heard a very familiar voice. You.

But you were with someone. Brad. The thought made him roll his eyes.

You were currently going off about how great Brad was doing so far in his role in the play you were managing. Stupid Brad, Peter was sure the only reason anything was going right in the planning of the show was because of you, you were the best person they could’ve picked for the job and all Brad had to do was say a few lines. You were the one who dealt with everything else. Brad should’ve been praising you, not the other way around.

He’d heard Brad’s response to your compliments and almost rolled his eyes again until he heard your response. Of course, you were being an absolute sweetheart. You probably had no clue what words like that meant coming for someone like you. You were probably oblivious to your effect on people, as you were probably oblivious to Brad’s true feelings about you.

You both went quiet for a moment, leaving Peter to wonder what happened when he heard Brad’s voice again.

“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.”

No.

No, no, no, no. No.

If he were totally honest with himself, he knew it was coming. Especially after you told him about your little scavenger hunt around the school, and how well you got along with him, how kind he was being towards you. Brad didn’t just randomly see you in the hall and decide to say ‘hey’. He had class. Peter knew because he was supposed to be in that exact class right now.

He could handle another detention.

Before he even knew it, he was running down the halls. He had no idea what he was going to do, even less what he was going to say but none of that mattered at the moment. He just had to make sure this didn’t go any further. There was no way he could stand by and listen to you agree to go out with some other guy.

And then he was standing there, you’d both seen him, and it was too late to turn back. He stared for a minute, noticing how close Brad was standing next to you. His gaze flickered between you and him and all he could think was how wrong it would be for you to end up with someone like Brad. Stupid, stupid Brad, who hung out with all the stupid jocks, and threw those stupid house parties all the time. Who only talked about his stupid car, and what model it was-

An Idea popped into his head.

He couldn’t help it. Bro Peter stepped out and dealt with Brad, knowing the one thing that would completely get rid of him at the moment. He wasn’t thinking about the consequences.

As he’d suspected Brad left with almost no hesitation, Peter almost doubling over with how quickly he fell for it.

And then, he was left with you, and every ounce of confidence, every word in his lifelong vocabulary, crumbled. It never ceased to amaze him how easily you could completely undo him. He was an avenger, for crying out loud, he had literally saved New York and, he didn’t want to sound cocky but, the world. He had faced villains, of all sorts, so despicable, it’s a wonder he’s alive at all. But he did it.

But you…. He’s never felt like this before. So nervous, anxious, and scared to mess something up when all he wants is to fix it. In the superhero world, stunned silence isn’t an option. One moment of hesitation and everything could go to shit. But now, he’s not sure what the best course of action is. He’s not sure if speaking to you will make things worse, or better. If saying anything at all will give him more of a fighting chance. Was there even any chance of a fighting chance?

He didn’t miss how you hadn’t said a word and all he could think was ‘Please talk! Say something! Give me a hint for what I’m supposed to say!”

He was just stuck in place, staring directly at your face taking in your expression. You wouldn’t meet his eyes and there was no stopping the pang of guilt in his gut. You looked skittish, and it should’ve been no surprise to him when you turned to take off but it still took him a second to shake off that moment.

Just a second though, because soon he was running right after you. He wasn’t going to let you off so easy this time.

He’d called for you to stop, reaching his hand for your shoulder in hopes of getting you to listen. The way you jerk back as if his touch might burn you snaps something in him.

And there they are, your first words to him (Peter him) since the breakup:

“We’re not doing this.”

And you’re already moving away again, already slipping away from him again while his hand hangs in the air. He almost touched you. Maybe it was better that he didn’t because he thought he might’ve never let go.

He’s not sure if you meant what you told him as Spider-Man. Maybe it was just another one of your jokes. But he’s not ready to give up hope yet. He’ll give you time if that's what you need, he’s just scared of who else might try to make their move during that time.

For now, he’s just gonna work on getting his shit together.

And that starts with going to class, and getting his work turned in.

There’s a buzz in the air when you enter the auditorium the next day, that can only be described as highly-caffeinated-extremely-enthusiastic-high-school-theater-kids. You were all feeling the anticipation of your work these past few weeks being shared with all your friends and family.

You were walking around checking up on the last-minute touchups. You walked up on stage and stopped in your tracks. “Oh my god,” your hand flies up to your mouth, “you guys! This is beautiful!”

The set group (Noah, Lacy, and Jack) all grinned up at you. They all had some form of paint on them. Lacy adorned a pair of overalls that consisted of black and navy blue splatters going up and down the front of her. Jack’s T-shirt looked as if it were being used as a rag for his hands, so there were so many colors intertwining with each other, that you couldn’t pick out a single one. Noah was the messiest of the group, this specific set being mostly his responsibility. The knees of his jeans were stained black, but it didn’t end there. He looked like a tornado of night, with all sorts of shades clinging to any visible part of him. Blues, blacks, indigos, you name it. And they were all gleaming with pride.

“Hey Y/N,” Noah beamed at you. “We just finished the last backdrop.”

Behind them all was the backdrop which would be used for the last scene of the play. Lexi and Brad (or Stephanie and Gabriel, per the script) would stand in front of it and finally declare their love for one another, commencing their forever after with a passionate kiss.

You knew it was supposed to be a night sky, but what you hadn’t known was how well of a job they would do.

You let out a breathless laugh. “I can see that. It's stunning you guys, truly.” Although Midtown High was a school that specialized in the education of science and technology, the students here were extremely in touch with their creative sides as well. And that fact had never been more obvious to you than in that moment.

“There's still one more finishing touch, and then it’ll be perfect.” Lacy grinned at you before running backstage.

You were staring at where she'd just been, a furrow in your brows, when Jack nudged you lightly, “Oh, this is what she’s been waiting for since we started.”

Lacy came back, almost tripping over herself with how fast she was running. She held up a jar that sparkled in the auditorium lights as she moved it around, “Glitter!”

You grinned and clapped your hands together, “Oh I’m so happy I get to be here for this.”

Noah and Jack stood to the side while you and Lacy approached the large backdrop from the side. She made quick work of unscrewing the top and setting it beside her. She leaned over slightly and tilted the jar a tad before sprinkling it over the spacious work of art.

If sprinkling glitter were a profession, Lacy would be a pro.

You quickly figured out why she was so excited about this step, and it wasn’t just the glitter. Adding the glitter gave the scene more life. It made it look as if it were real, and you were looking at a sky bursting with sparkling stars.

After getting the area in front of her, she turns to you, holding out the jar. “Here! Give it a go.”

You stared a her a bit before quickly shaking your head, “Lace, I never thought someone could be good at sprinkling glitter, yet here I am. You were like a freaking fairy! I’d totally ruin it, and I can’t do that to you guys.”

You held your hands up and started backing away slowly. You could hear Jack and Noah laughing behind you.

Lacy just rolled her eyes with a smile stuck on her face. “Nonsense, Y/N, you’re a pro at everything you do,” she lowered her voice a little, “like that scavenger hunt?”

You gave her a look before turning around to make sure Mrs. Lightbody was nowhere around. “None of that,” you hiss, “that was a one-time thing! And it was a group effort!”

“Oh come on,” Noah this time. “We all know you had the hardest list of the bunch. Seriously Y/N, if Brad hadn’t shown me the list, I never would’ve believed that you did all that.”

Jack nodded. “Honestly, me and Lace wrote that as a little joke, like, ‘Hey, what if we were really wild with this? What would we do?’ And you came and proved us all wrong.”

Lacy hummed her agreement, “What they said, exactly. And this is just a bit of glitter. No big deal!” She grabbed your arm and pulled you towards her.

You laughed lightly, feeling yourself grow a little flustered under their praises. You grabbed the jar of glitter from Lacy and went to work, being extra careful so you don’t ruin all their hard work.

“This is good glitter,” you say softly, completely concentrated on the task at hand.

“Oh my gosh! I know right!” Lacy practically squeals her response. You laughed but could hear Noah groaning behind you. You finish with the glitter, screwing it shut before turning back to face him.

“There’s no such thing as ‘good glitter’,” He did air quotes on that last part, sounding extremely frustrated and something told you this wasn’t the first time they had this conversation.

“Yes, there is! She just said so!” Lacy was standing her ground. Suddenly, she turned towards you, “Y’know who can settle this? Lexi. Go find her Y/N, take the glitter, and ask her what she thinks. She’s gonna agree with me, I can already feel it.”

You held in a laugh. “Sure thing Lace.” You turn to go find your other friend and as you're walking away you can still hear them arguing, Noah not convinced that glitter could be good or bad. It’s just glitter.

You walked around the auditorium looking for Lexi and failing to find her. You started asking around, feeling sure that someone had to have seen her. You knew she was here, having seen her enter at the start of rehearsals. Walking around the front of the auditorium, peering down aisles, you were about to go check backstage when you heard a Brad Davis.

Now you’re not sure why, you didn’t do anything wrong after all, but a panic settled in you. Next thing you knew, you jumped into one of the aisles and crouched down.

He was walking up the main row between the chairs, script in hand, talking to someone beside him who you couldn’t see. They were moving closer to you. Shit.

In a rush, you start crawling, crawling, down to the opposite side of the aisle they were approaching. You were almost out, but you accidentally pulled down one of the chairs that are built to automatically flip up. Not a loud noise, but loud enough. You wince but don’t stop until you're sitting against the side of the row of chairs, out of their sight.

You could hear the chatter stop and the footsteps slow. You sucked in your breath and folded in on yourself even more. You were already coming up with a cover for yourself.

‘Oh, hey Brad. Yeah, I’m on the floor. Not avoiding you or anything, just….decided to see what the view of the stage would be like from here. Not good!’

It sucked and you really hoped you wouldn’t have to use it.

It seemed as though your luck for the day hadn’t expired because you heard them mumble amongst themselves and move on. After a few moments, You let out a sigh of relief and started crawling down towards the stage. You weren’t risking getting seen just yet.

You were starting to like Brad, you really were! But after recent events you had started to think the interest he’d taken in you wasn’t the same as the platonic one you’d taken in him. And you were bad at confrontation or being put on the spot. Obviously.

Plus you figured he’d want to talk about that weird moment with Peter in the hall the day before and you’d rather pretend that didn’t happen at all. Even you didn’t know what that was.

Moving slowly, you kept your head down, trying to reach the stage so you could just bolt behind the curtains. Suddenly, a pair of pointed-toe black flats came into your view. You paused and slowly looked up. In front of you stood Ms. Lightbody.

“Hi.” You said meekly. She looked down at you with a furrow in her brows, “Hello Miss Y/L/N. May I ask what you’re doing?”

You fumbled for a moment but finally found yourself. Clearing your throat, you stood up and dusted yourself off. “I dropped an earring.”

Way better than that other bullshit you were thinking of.

She stared at both your ears, which adorned a pair of earrings you never took off. “Oh?”

“I’ve already put it back in,” you explained to her lamely. She gazed somewhere behind you and you followed her stare. Brad and his friend were still walking up and down the main row, lost in some conversation. You gulped, if she had seen you earlier, it would’ve been fairly obvious to her the real reason behind your little floor exploration. And that was just embarrassing.

She hummed in response, “I see.” Her voice carried some tone of understanding and you felt yourself run hot with embarrassment under her gaze.

“Did you need something, Miss?” You rushed out quickly, hoping to change the subject.

“Yes,” she focused her gaze on you now, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a sprinkle of amusement in her eyes.

Ms. Lightbody was a newer addition to Midtown’s staff. She came in to replace the school’s previous drama teacher, and she also subbed at times. Most of the student body disliked her, thinking her short-tempered and strict but you knew that was far from the truth. It seemed this play helped you better understand your peers and superiors alike. She was an amazing teacher and, contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t an impatient maniac who didn’t have the skill set to teach. She was always willing to help someone who didn’t understand, but what she didn’t tolerate was purposeful incompetence.

“Lexi is in one of the rooms backstage, I need you to go find her and tell her there’s one more scene we need to rehearse.” She paused and looked behind you again. “And I suggest you get to that soon because I think your friend, Mr. Davis, has spotted you.”

You blanched, unsure whether to dwell on the fact that she knew, or that Brad had spotted you. You turn slightly only to see Brad already looking towards you.

You quickly snapped your head towards the lady in front of you again. “On it!” You told her, not waiting for a response before shooting up the stage and behind the curtain.

You could’ve sworn you heard her laugh.

You were backstage looking for Lexi. It wasn’t like her to stay tucked away like this, since rehearsals had started she was always ready for anything, talking things over with the other cast members, ready for criticism but rarely needing it. There was probably no one on the cast who was as excited as her.

“Lex, you here?” You whispered softly. Behind the stage was empty and dark. You walked around carefully, trying not to accidentally trip on anything of the string or left-out equipment. All of this was going to need to be changed before tomorrow evening.

Suddenly, so quiet you could barely hear it, was a shuffling noise. You looked around for some switch, finding it on the wall to your left. You switched it on and the action earned you a hiss from someone a little further in the room.

You turned quickly, finding Lexi sitting at one of the small makeup desks, hands coming up to cover her face as if she were some vampire.

That worried you.

You rushed to her, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Lex,” your tone was quiet so as not to disturb her anymore. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

She looked up at you, hair disheveled, face a little pale, and eyes tired. “No, no I’m fine.” She shook her head but you weren’t convinced.

You moved to sit at the desk next to her. “Okay,” you said softly, “then why are you sitting back here?”

She sighed a little. “I’ve just had a small headache since lunch. But I’ll be okay really.

Your frown only deepens. “Did you eat today? Drink water?”

She nodded then rubbed her temples a little, shutting her eyes as she did so. “It’s probably my fault, I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m just tired.”

Her eyes snapped open and she looked more alert now. She clasped her hands together and smiled at you. “So wake me up Y/N/N. Tell me something interesting.”

Skeptically, you eyed her up and down. “Are you sure that's all? Should I take you to see the nurse?”

She shook her head again, her hair flying around her face as she did so. “No. I’m actually feeling better already, talking to you. I think the smell of Noah’s Axe Body Spray was just really setting everything off.” She gestured her hands around herself.

You laughed, glad to see her acting like herself again. “But seriously,” she said, putting a hand on your knee. “Talk to me, it’s waking me up. How was your day?”

You let out a breath and leaned back in the chair, looking up to the ceiling. “Brad asked me out.”

She gasped so loud, you started up in your seat. “Shut up. Shut up!”

Smiling, you shook your head. “Well not yet. But I know it’s coming, you know what I mean? He keeps trying to get me alone, and he gets really close and starts staring into my eyes and everything. But he keeps getting interrupted.”

She gasped again, softer this time, and held her hand to her chest. “Oh my god. That’s so cute! Are you gonna say yes?”

You stilled for a moment. Were you going to say yes? You’d figured out what was most likely coming your way, but you hadn’t really thought of how to handle it. You couldn’t crawl across floors to avoid him forever. That would make graduation very awkward.

And at the same time, you didn’t want to reject him. Brad was sweet, maybe not the type of person you usually went for, but he had his own things. Maybe you needed something new, something different.

But something in your gut was telling you maybe you shouldn’t go out with someone who made you panic-crawl on the floor just to avoid having a conversation with them.

Not to mention, you just weren’t interested in him like that. At all.

Lexi was going on about something or other, seemingly fine at the moment. “I totally knew he was into you. I mean, that whole picking you up in the library thing?” She shook her head. “Not just a platonic thing.”

You laughed loudly and stood up. You held out a hand for her to take. “Come on Lex, everyone’s looking for their star.”

She took your hand and stood. “I bet they are, I’ll have to apologize for hogging you from them.”

You laughed again and started pushing her towards the front stage. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! We’re playing with glitter!”

The rest of the day went by smoothly. You, Lexi, and Lacy applied the finishing touches to the backdrop. As Lacy had guessed, Lexi agreed with her. Lacy went on about all the qualities the perfect glitter should consist of; ‘catches the light, soft, and dustable.’

You were sure that last one wasn’t even a word but Noah gave in eventually and let the girls have their win. But that wasn’t enough for the three of you. Not wanting to put the glitter away just yet, you started sprinkling it on each other.

Word spread across the auditorium like wildfire, and soon, a line started forming on the stage to get glitter sprinkled on you, boys and girls alike. Ms. Lightbody shut that down quick.

You stuck to avoiding Brad for the rest of the day. It wasn’t hard, you were both busy, him being one of the leads and you helping with a little bit of everything and making sure everyone stayed in order (with the exception of the glitter fiasco).

At the end, Ms. Lightbody had gathered you all around to talk about how tomorrow was going to go. She went over the basics, what time the show was going to start, and what time you all had to be there. It was things you all already knew but it was good to go over. In the end, you thought she looked a little sad, and apparently, you weren’t the only one because someone else pointed it out. That made everyone jump and you all pulled her into a group hug. This little group had become like a crazy family and you were forever grateful you had a chance to be part of it.

You left quickly after that, wanting to get out before Brad offered to walk you home or something. You said bye to your friends, taking extra time with Lexi. She had been more reserved after you two talked, not as tired as you’d found her backstage, but still not quite herself. You told her to get lots of sleep tonight. She was needed tomorrow

Now, you were sitting on the rooftop ledge, kicking your feet as Spider-Man sat next to you.

“Are you excited?” He asked.

You nodded, smiling. “Very. We’ve all been working really hard for this. And you should see how great a job everyone has done. I can’t wait to see it all put together finally.”

“I’m sure you’ve done a great job,” he nods. “I really wish I could be there. You’re gonna need to take some videos for me. Show me afterward.”

You grinned wide. “Seriously? You’d wanna see?”

“Heck yea I wanna see,” he said, voice serious.

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll take plenty of videos, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” He said, raising a hand a ruffling your hair. You laughed and slapped his hand away. He stared at you a little before asking, “What’s in your hair?

You grinned wide. “Glitter.”

He shook his head, laughing. “I don’t even wanna know.” You giggled beside him.

“Are your friends going to be there?” He asked.

“Um,” you say, still smiling. “Yeah, I think so. They said they will, and I think it’ll be fun.” MJ had told you she was definitely going to be there, she couldn’t wait to make fun of the kids in the play, she’d already bought her ticket. Ned said he wanted to see it as well, and Peter…well, after recent events you couldn’t think of any reason he’d be there. He probably wouldn’t be able to find the time in his busy schedule, even if you two were still together. So it was better like this.

“What about your parents? Are they gonna try to make it?”

A beat passed before you replied. “No,” you shook your head. “I don’t think they’re gonna be there.”

He was quiet for a moment, not sure what to say. He almost regretted asking.

“But it’s okay,” you said, your voice so soft, it took everything in him not to reach over and pull you into his arms. “I wasn’t expecting them to anyway. I have my friends, that’s enough.” You cleared your throat and wrapped your arms around yourself.

He watched you for a bit and it hit him then, just how strong you were. How much you had on your plate at the moment. How little you let it show.

Your parents were basically roommates to you, you barely saw them, they were just there. The play you were managing? While everyone else had one job, one task they needed to focus on and get done, you were involved in everything. He remembered you mentioned to him a few weeks ago something about your phone blowing up since planning started. He never thought much of it then.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized you were always doing this. When it wasn’t the play it was something with your family, or tutoring other kids at school. And on top of all of that, you were always available for your friends whenever they needed you, and your grades never slipped. Your essays and tests were used by your teachers as examples. He always knew, but not really. It was painfully obvious right now. And it was even more obvious to him that he never helped. He should’ve helped make things easier for you, because he loves you, because he cares for you. But all he did was add to your plate. The thought made him feel sick.

“I’m so sorry,” Even through his voice-changer you could hear the sincerity, the despair in his voice. Your brows furrowed.

“You don’t need to apologize, it’s not that big of a deal. I swear,” you told him sincerely.

He nodded but the movement almost looked forced. “How have you been?”

You paused. “Good,” you nodded, as if confirming your own statement. “Busy, but good.”

“Have you taken a moment to breathe recently? Just relax yourself for a few seconds?”

You were taken aback by his question. No one had ever asked you that. “I- I don’t think so,” you replied quietly.

“Alright, that’s okay, we can do that together. Here,” he held out both his hands, palms up. “put your hands in mine.”

You followed his lead and placed your hands in his. The material of his suit felt smooth, but thicker than it looked, and you were surprised to see how well your hands fit together.

“Close your eyes.” He said, and you saw the whites of his mask flicker shut. You followed his lead.

“Great. Now big breath, through your mouth.” You sucked in a handful of air, the sound ringing out like a quick gasp.

His hands gave yours a gentle squeeze. “No,” he said, voice soft. You felt your face heat up and you tried again, this time slowly letting the air enter and fill your lungs.

“Now out through the nose.”

You let the air leave you, not even realizing how tense you were until you felt yourself relax. Your eyes fluttered open and you found him already staring at you. His thumbs had started gently caressing your hands and you found you didn’t mind at all.

“A few more times.” He told you, and you nodded at him. You closed your eyes again and repeated your actions from before, more sure of yourself this time.

When you had finished, you opened your eyes again. His eyes were still open and you thought his mask shifted into something like a grin.

“Better?” He asked you, and you smiled, nodding your head. It was crazy to you to think about how over these past few days, that very mask had turned into a comforting sight for you. You really thought of New York’s Spider-Man as a friend. And you hoped he felt the same.

You nodded again, unable to take your eyes off of him. You weren’t even aware you were still holding hands until he removed his from yours. You almost protested, your hands suddenly feeling colder than they ever have.

But then he brought his hands up to cup each side of your face.

Oh.

You were sure you were melting. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, and you couldn’t even see his face! You wished he’d just rip it off, you wouldn’t care who was underneath.

He brought his face closer and leaned his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. You stayed that way for a minute, both of you just enjoying the moment before you decided to speak.

“Take it off.” You whispered.

“What?” He asked, his voice matching your volume. You had opened your eyes and you were looking at him now. You could clearly see the eyes of his mask were still closed and you fought off a smile.

You brought up your hand to his face and traced his jawline. You could feel his jaw flex underneath your fingers and you could’ve sworn you heard him gulp.

“Take it off.” You repeated, your thumbs now caressing his cheekbones.

His eyes flew open and he leaned back. “No,” he shook his head, moving even further from where you two were seated next to each other.

Your brows shot up at his sudden change of demeanor. You wished you hadn’t said anything. “Ok,” you said, voice quiet. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was just- ugh I’m so sorry.”

“No!” He repeated. “Don’t apologize I- you did nothing wrong.”

But the way he was acting was making you feel otherwise.

“I have to go. Good luck tomorrow.” He said, stood up, flung out his wrist, and started swinging through the buildings faster than you could blink.

Fuck.

You were a wreck.

Everyone was running all over the place, orders being shouted across the entire backstage. Some people seemed to have invited their friends to hang out backstage (which was not allowed). Every corner was packed. And you were in the middle of it all.

“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called for you from across the swarm of bodies. You made your way through everyone, not stopping until you were standing in from of her. She placed a hand on your shoulder and steered you until you were both standing in a corner, as far away from the others as you could get.

“Miss Walker isn’t here, and it’s starting to become a problem.” She told you, voice serious.

You blanched. “Lexi isn’t here yet?!”

She shushed you. “I don’t want to start a commotion. Things are barely going smoothly as is, and this will not make it better. Everyone will start worrying if they find out their lead hasn’t arrived, and we cannot have that.”

You nodded at her, mind racing. “What do we do?”

She sighed, “For now? Wait and hope for the best, there’s still a bit more time.”

You nodded again and she took a second to look around the room. “What is all this? Half these kids have no business here!” She turned towards you again. “I'm going to try to reach Miss Walker’s mother, deal with all these children Y/N, please. I want them gone by the time I get back.”

She turned to leave before she remembered something that had her turning right back, “You have Miss Walker’s contact information, correct?” You nodded at her again. “Great. Try to get ahold of her, will you? The sooner we figure this out the better.”

“Sure thing Ms. Lightbody.” You told her, waving her off, your voice sounding a hundred times more confident than you felt.

You watched her walk out the back door to make her phone call, and you paused for a moment, unsure what to do first. You turned and pulled out your phone. Heading for the door Ms. Lightbody just walked out of, you pulled up your message thread with Lexi.

girl WRU !!!

you were needed like 30 mins ago !!!!

get here-

You bumped into someone, your phone flying out of your hand before you could send that last one. You would’ve been sent flying backward if the person hadn’t gripped your waist tight to keep you steady.

“Woah, careful.”

You’d know that voice anywhere. Peter.

“Parker,” you said, backing away quickly. “What are you doing here?” And you don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did but…there’s just a lot on your plate right now.

And it seems he can tell. He bent over to grab your phone, placing it back in your hands. “The lady at the office saw me walking by and asked me to drop these off.” He waved a big bag you hadn’t noticed in his other hand.

You reached for it, saying, “Oh my god, perfect.” At the same time, he asked, “Are you okay?”

You completely ignored him, taking the bag from his hands. Turning around, you caught Jack walking by at just the right moment. “Jack! Here,” you called him over, “Those supplies you guys were asking for.”

“Sweet, thanks Y/N/N!” He said, leaning in to give you a quick hug. You smile but then quickly shove him away, “Thank J, but you really need to go finish. Like, right now.”

He straightened his posture and saluted you. “Ma’am yes ma’am!” He said, then he turned to Peter, who had been watching the whole exchange, “Sup Parker.” He sent a little head nod towards him, as he started walking away.

Peter returned it, brows slightly furrowed as he looked between the two of you, “Hey man.”

You started walking around, trying to count up how many people there were who weren’t a part of the cast or crew.

One, two, three-

You felt a hand placed on your shoulder and you turned quickly, only to see Peter still hasn’t left.

You looked at him in disbelief. The nerve of this guy. There’s no way he seriously thinks you’re going to talk about the two of you right now, is there?

“How are you?” He asks again and you’ve never found someone dumber than you did right now.

“Hello?! Things aren’t going too hot in case you can’t tell, and you aren’t exactly helping right now!”

He nodded, “Okay. What can I do to help?”

You scoffed. “I don’t know, leave. It’s so crowded in here and I have to get all these extra people out. Shit,” you smacked your forehead. “I forgot I have to find Lexi. Fuck! And I have to-.”

“Y/N!” Someone shouted your name for the umpteenth time that night. You turned and met Vanessa, one of the people in charge of makeup.

“We’re out of setting powder.”

“What?!”

She winces. “I know, I’m so sorry. We thought we had enough but then some of the boys were playing and knocked over-,”

You waved her off, not wanting to hear the rest of it. “Okay, okay. Do none of the other girls have any extra? Is no one willing to lend you some?”

She shook her head. “No! I already asked. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll get you some.” Peter stepped in. “Just send me a picture of what it looks like and I’ll be back in ten minutes tops.”

Vanessa gasped, “Dude. You’re a lifesaver. Y/N,” she met your eyes, “your boyfriend is a lifesaver!”

“Oh he’s not-,” you started, but she was already walking away. You turned towards Peter, the disbelief on your face getting stronger every time you looked at him today.

You started shaking your head, “What on earth are you doing Parker?”

“Helping you.” He said as if it were the easiest thing on earth. He wondered if you were making a conscious effort not to say his first name.

Your head wouldn’t stop shaking left and right. “What? What do you- I don’t-,”

He cut you off, “And I’m gonna get rid of all the people who don’t belong here too.” He looked around the room before looking down at you. “You, just…take care of yourself Y/N. Don’t stress too much, it’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure you even have the time?”

Shit.

His face fell and you immediately felt guilt seep into your bones.

“Peter I’m so-,”

He cut you off again, his voice quieter this time. “No, that was..that was fair. But I mean it.” He raised his voice, sounding more sure now. “I’m going to help you out.”

He stepped away from you suddenly, leaving you standing with your mouth agape. He walked to the end of the room, stopping right before the door. “Alright, everyone! Listen up,” He clapped his hands together, his voice booming around the room. Everyone quieted down to hear him.

“Unless you had some part in putting all this together, I’m going to need you to follow me out right now. Let everyone do their thing, we don’t need to bother them any more than we already have.”

Everyone was still for a second.

“And,” he continued, “Ms. Lightbody gave me permission to start handing out detentions.”

That got everyone moving. Your brows furrowed as a sea of students started moving through the room and out the door. Ms. Lightbody did no such thing.

Peter stood to the side, holding the door open. It had come down to the last few people and Peter held back a boy. “You,” he told him, “I’m gonna need you to stay outside this door and make sure no one enters unless they’re part of the cast or crew. We can’t have that happening again.”

“Oh shit. Like a bouncer?” The kid asked eagerly.

Peter stared for a bit before he nodded. “Yeah man, exactly. And listen,” he pointed at you, “if you’re not sure, you ask her, alright?”

The boy turned towards you and you offered him a smile. “Damn! She’s smokin’!” He exclaimed. If you weren’t so busy, you might’ve blushed.

Peter narrowed his eyes, and it seemed like he was considering something before he quickly shook his head. He grabbed the boy by the shoulder and placed him on the outside of the door.

“Vanessa!” He shouted. “Send me a picture of the powder, I’m going right now.”

“Already sent Pete, thanks!” She shouted back, giving him a thumbs up from where she was standing by the makeup chairs.

Pete? Why would she call him Pete? She doesn’t know him like that. I used to call him Pete-

You stopped your train of thought. You could not afford to think like that right now.

“Perfect.” He said, he made to move away but his eyes met yours and he froze. “I’m gonna…” he trailed off, feet stuck to the ground as his thumb pointed to the door.

“Of course,” you nodded quickly. “And Peter,” you stop him before he turns to go, “thank you. So much.” You hoped your voice carried the sincerity you felt.

He smiled at you softly, “Anything for you Y/N/N.”

This time, you did blush. You turned away before he could see you and placed a palm on your forehead.

“Wow,” a voice said from beside you. Brad. “Didn’t know Parker had that in him.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “me either.”

“Hey, where’s Lexi?” Someone in the room asked. You felt your heart drop. Lexi. You’d completely forgotten about her after that whole thing with Peter.

You had a show that needed to start in less than an hour and your star still hadn’t shown up.

You pulled out your phone again, pulling up her contact. You were about to hit the ‘call’ button but right then, Ms. Lightbody walked in.

She was holding her phone to her ear, and she was staring straight at you, her face full of dread.

“Lexi can’t make it. She’s got some type of flu, she can’t get out of bed. I am on the phone with her mother right now.”

Your jaw dropped. Chatter broke out everywhere. The kids were panicking, wondering what to do now, now that the lead of the whole show wasn’t going to be here.

Fuck. You should’ve known, yesterday when you saw her. But you were stupid enough to believe it was just lack of sleep. You should’ve figured it out faster so you could’ve planned something. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

“Miss Y/L/N.” You looked up when you heard your name. “She’s asking to speak to you.” Ms. Lightbody holds her phone out for you to take.

Your eyes widen, “Me?”

She nodded, hand still outstretched toward you. You swallowed and walked your way toward her. You reached for the phone and held it to your ear. The chatter around the room stopped, everyone straining to hear what was going to happen next.

“Hello?”

“It wasn’t the Axe Body Spray.”

You barked out a laugh at the unexpected joke. “Lex! Be serious, what happened.”

“I got sick when I got home from rehearsal yesterday, I’ve been asleep since.” It was then that you heard how different her voice sounded. Nasally and broken, like she’d swallowed a lawn mower.

“My mom’s only woken me up about twice to drink some medicine,” she continued, breaking into a fit of coughing at the end of her sentence. Yeah, maybe it was a good thing she didn’t come.

“Lex,” you repeated, sounding more desperate this time, “what’re we gonna do?”

“Wait,” someone in the room with you starts, “what about her understudy?”

“There is no understudy, dumbass!” Someone quipped right back.

“You,” Lexi said.

“Huh?” You replied.

“You, Y/N.” She repeated. “You need to do it. You need to play Stephanie. No one else could do it. You know all the lines. You know the whole play.”

You paled. “Be so fucking for real with me right now Lexi Walker.”

“I am.” She said seriously. Or, as seriously as she could sound when she had to cough after every other word she spoke.

People were leaning in now, trying to hear what was going on between the two of you. You ignored them, “Lex, there’s no way. You know I can’t do that.”

“Oh my god!” Someone shouted. Lacy. “Y/N! Y/N can do it!”

You shook your head quickly. “No! I can’t!” You replied to her, the phone still pressed to your ear.

“You have to, Y/N, please, for me. You know how much this means to me. You’re the only person I trust,” Lexi begged

There are shouts from your cast-mates now, encouraging you to take the role when that was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Lex, babe,” you tried to reason, “I didn’t rehearse as much as you did! I don’t know it like you.”

“No,” she agreed, “you know it better. All that time you spent, going over every detail of the set, the costumes, the script. It was for this. Now please, you know you can do it.”

You paused. You didn’t want to, but it was really looking like you had no choice. You looked around at everyone in the room, they all worked so hard, hell, you worked so hard to make this happen. You weren’t gonna let it all be for nothing.

You rubbed your temple with one hand, the other holding the phone up to your ear. “Do you guys really think I can do it?” You looked around at everyone, hoping they’d answer honestly.

A chorus of agreement rang out from the group but Ms. Lightbody stepped in. “Miss Y/L/N,” she started, “I know none of this has been ideal. And I know we’re asking a lot. You didn’t come in today expecting to step onto that stage, but right now, that’s what we need. And I think we would all appreciate your help in these unexpected circumstances.”

You stared at her for a moment. You always wondered why she spoke so formally all the time, maybe one day you’ll ask her.

“Sure, I’m down.” You shrugged and everyone started cheering.

“Oh good,” Lexi sighed, “cause I need to go throw up right now, so bye. Tell everyone to take lots of photos and videos for me please!”

You winced. “We will Lex, you just work on feeling better. Now go, I love you.”

“Love you too babe.” She replied before hanging up quickly.

“Alright,” Ms. Lightbody started pushing you to the makeup chairs. “Have a seat Y/N. Girls,” she turned toward the makeup crew. “Get started on her, afterward, take her to hair and then, get her into her costume.”

They all chorused an agreement and started fussing over you. You were one of the last people to get ready, everyone one else having already had their turn.

With so many people working on you, your makeup was done in no time. Soon, only Vanessa was left and she was powdering your face.

“Peter came back?” You asked her once you realized what she was holding in her hands.

She nodded. “Yeah, a few minutes ago, but he didn’t come in, left the stuff with the dude outside the door who’s calling himself our ‘bouncer’.”

You nodded, “Oh okay.”

“You’ve got a great boyfriend Y/N, seriously. Not many guys I know would help out like that, no matter…”

You zoned out while she was doing the finishing touches on your face. Not many guys you know either, Peter included. Or at least, the Peter you’d come to find yourself in a relationship with. The old Peter, however, would’ve done anything for you, and you for him. You got a glimpse of him earlier tonight and you wondered what it was that triggered that.

The few moments of silence gave you time to go over everything that's been happening recently in your head. You’ve had a hectic past few weeks, but especially this last week. With the last few rehearsals, everything with Peter, everything with Spider-Man. Oh…

And then there was him…

There was a moment yesterday. You tried to gaslight yourself into thinking you imagined it but you didn’t. It was real. Until you ruined it.

You’d gone to bed late last night, staying on the roof even after he’d left in case he decided to come back so you could apologize again. You’d felt downright terrible all night. And this morning.

It was none of your business to ask him to take off his mask. Who the hell did you think you were? There might’ve been something before but there was no way…not after the way he reacted last night. You’d pissed him off. And now you’d lost another friend.

“There you go!” Vanessa said, pulling back from your face and grinning. She held up a mirror for you to take a look. “What do you think? I think it matches Stephanie’s description pretty well, no?”

You gasped, “Oh my god Vanessa, this is exactly how I pictured her! When all this is over you have to teach me how to do my eyeliner like this.”

“Deal.” She grinned.

Suddenly, Ms. Lightbody walked by. “Who is that child standing outside the door?” She asked. Vanessa shot you a look and you subtly shook your head at her, and at anyone who turned towards you.

No one answered her. “He asked me for my ID?!” You choked back a laugh. “He doesn’t even go here!” She continued. Everyone successfully avoided her, playing busy with whatever task they had in front of them. Vanessa kept brushing over your face with a clean brush while you both fought back smiles.

“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called. You shot out of your chair and approached her. “Yes ma’am?”

“Is your makeup all done?” You nodded while she examined your face. “Very well, head over to hair, we need everyone ready soon! Curtain opens in 15!”

That last one was directed at everybody and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. If everyone wasn’t working before, they were now.

You headed over to hair and let one of the people there pin it up for you. After that, you were held into your costume, your friends pulling on layer after layer before finally, you were completely ready.

You looked in the mirror. “I look I came out a Jane Austen novel,” you murmured.

Lacy, who stood beside you, laughed. “And it suits you! You look beautiful Y/N, stunningly classic. Very vintage.” She nodded in approval.

You turned towards her and smiled, “Thank you, Lace.” You sucked in a breath and ran your hand down the hem of your costume. “I’m nervous,” you admitted shyly.

“Don’t be,” she replied, voice soft. “Hey, if you could pull off that scavenger hunt, this should be a piece of cake.” She smirked wickedly at you.

You laughed, “Actually, you’re right.”

“I always am.” she shrugged

“SHOWTIME EVERYONE, GET IN YOUR PLACES!” Ms. Lightbody’s voice boomed across the whole backstage.

You both looked at each other. “Break a leg.” She grinned at you.

You grinned right back. You could handle this.

The anxiety from before had mostly worn off. Now, all you felt were nervous jitters and even a little excitement. Everyone was right, you knew everything about this play like the back of your hand, and you were looking forward to being out there with people you’d come to think of as friends.

You got into place, standing beside Brad and some of your other cast-mates who were going to be in this first scene with you.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and he looked down at you with a large smile on his face.

“Hi,” you replied, smiling right back.

“Don’t think I got the chance to tell you, but I’m really happy you’re doing this.”

“Yeah, I think I am too.”

“Curtain warmers on?” Ms. Lightbody spoke into a little headset. “Perfect. And…action!”

The lights blinded you for a second, once the curtain opened, and you had to stop yourself from turning your face away. In the beat you had before the scene came to life, you chanced a glance at the crowd. You really wished you hadn’t.

Peter Parker was sitting front row.

As quickly as you looked, you averted your gaze, but not before you noticed a few things. Beside him sat Ned, and in the row behind them, right behind Ned’s chair, sat MJ. And all three of them had their mouths hanging open. You had to fight down the heat threatening to rise to your face.

You never told them, hell, you didn’t even know. What were they gonna think? There was no way you could pull this off, you were all fooling yourselves, everyone was wrong and-

The first line was delivered, and it all came to life.

You were panting, running backstage. There was a small intermission at the moment, and you had just changed your outfit, from the simple gown you were adorning, to a bigger one. This one was more detailed and more eye-catching. It was supposed to be special because it was meant for the last scene of the whole play. The confession. Your kiss with Brad.

In the heat of the moment, you’d forgotten that specific detail. And as you sat down in the makeup chair again and one of the girls reapplied your lipstick, it was all you could think about.

You had to kiss Brad. And Peter would be sitting front row watching the whole thing.

That shouldn’t matter. First of all, it was all part of an act. Even if you were still with Peter, (which you weren’t. You had to keep reminding yourself of that little detail) it wouldn’t have mattered because you were doing it for the play. A play you weren’t even planning on being a part of, acting-wise, of course.

And then there was Spider-Man. If there was anyone you had to be kissing right now, you wished it was him. But there was no chance of that happening after last night. You wondered how he was feeling right now. He’d probably tell you to relax and stop stressing yourself out.

The thought made you take in a breath through your mouth, and slowly exhale from your nose. Just like he’d taught you. You felt yourself relax and, not for the first time that night, you decided that you needed to just get through tonight. And then you could worry about everything else.

The girl helping you with your makeup (you didn’t recognize her, but appreciated the help nonetheless) pulled away and smiled. “Alright, I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you.” You smiled back and stood from your chair.

Ms. Lightbody approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Come on, Miss Y/L/N. We need to get you in place.”

You nodded as she led you to the wing on the side of the stage, the curtains were still down, and by the time they opened again, you would be standing on the makeshift balcony (built by the props team), soon to be joined by Brad.

You went to approach the steps of the balcony when you felt her hold you back.

“I wanted to thank you again Y/N. I know we were all planning on Miss Walker doing all this but honestly…I couldn’t be prouder.”

Your heart warmed at her confession. You were upset you didn’t get to see Lexi shine like you’d been planning but you hoped you’d do her proud. You were glad to know you did Ms. Lightbody proud.

Without saying a word, you throw your arms around her in a warm embrace. She quickly reciprocated.

“I know we’ve all given you a hard time these past few weeks, and we don’t say it enough but we appreciate you. All of us.”

You both pulled back and her eyes were full of emotion. “Thank you Y/N, truly. Now go, I’ll get Mr. Davis ready.”

You nodded and stepped onto the set, positioning yourself at the end of the balcony. The balcony protruded from the side of the stage and covered a quarter of it. The backdrop you’d been appreciating just yesterday now stood to your side. You saw parts of it glitter from the light leaking in from backstage and you stifled a laugh.

Soon, the curtain opened. You’d grown used to the lights by now, welcoming their glow over your face. You gripped the railing and played broken-hearted, right now, Stephanie and Gabriel had just had a falling out during a ball and you had run out onto the balcony to get some air.

“Stephanie.” Brad approached behind you, and you turned around in fake shock.

The hardest part about acting, you’d come to find, was keeping a serious face and not laughing at yourself or your partner.

“Leave me be, Gabriel.” You waved a hand at him, turning away.

He caught your arm and held it gently between the two of you, standing so close, you were trapped between the railing and him.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice strangled. He looked down at you, face so pained, you almost believed him.

And so it began, the two of you going back and forth, delivering your lines, monologues about your feelings for each other, and how nothing in the world mattered except holding the other person, even for a moment.

Brad was finishing up, he was pacing back and forth in front of you while you listened intently.

“…And all this, because I love you.” He stopped in front of you now, hands coming up to cup your face. You did your best to get your expression to convey the love you (or Stephanie) were supposed to be feeling and then it happened.

Brad leaned, crashing his lips onto yours. You throw your arms around him, meeting him just as eagerly, and tried your best not to think about all the people currently watching suck each other’s faces off. One of his hands traveled down to your waist while the other moved from your cheek to hold the back of your head as he dipped you. Cheers broke out across the crowd.

You two stayed locked together like that for a few moments as the curtains closed, and then you broke apart. You were both panting, faces flushed, but you didn’t have time to think about what just happened. You and Brad had started moving off the balcony and onto the actual stage itself, the other members of the cast and crew joining you to take the final bow.

You all lined up across the stage, hands interlocked. With you and Brad in the middle, the curtains opened. You could still hear the applause before, but now, it got even louder and you couldn’t help the big smile that overtook your face. People were whistling, and clapping, someone was even throwing roses. You all took a bow together, and rose together, throwing your interlocked hands in the air.

Your body was buzzing with adrenaline. It was over, you’d actually done it. You could see Ms. Lightbody standing to the side, gleaming with pride at you all.

Soon, you all let go of each other and started embracing and exchanging congratulations. Brad turned toward you and pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you up a little. You laughed, holding onto him just as tight. The applause seemed never-ending, even as you all started walking off stage.

Now backstage, there was a buzz in the air. Not the same as a couple hours ago, which had been anxiety and nerves. This was triumph, pride, and adrenaline.

“Alright everyone,” Ms. Lightbody approached the center of the room once everyone had reconvened. “We’ve finally finished. And it was a hit.”

That caused everyone to start whooping and shouting. She rolled her eyes but even she couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto her face.

She held up a hand, “Okay. I just wanted to let you all know, how proud I am of each and every single one of you. You all worked so hard to make this happen and you worked through every problem that came your way.” She gave you a pointed look and the cheers started up again.

You hid your face in your hands as your friends pulled you into side hugs. “And I just wanted to say,” she continued. “We’ve all had a long night. Leave the cleaning for another day, everyone, go celebrate!”

She waved her hands and everyone started cheering again, moving as one to the back door to meet up with their friends and family.

As soon as you entered the hall you were bombarded by thanks and praises from your friends. You thanked them and threw their compliments right back at them, saying that this whole thing was a group effort.

You were flying from one group to another, everyone shouting your name. You were currently with Noah, Jack, and Lacy, telling them how good a job they did on the sets when you heard your name being shouted out again.

You turned around and saw MJ. Grinning, you excused yourself from the group and charged at her, pulling her into a hug without giving her any time to protest. To your surprise, she pulled you in just as tight.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She mumbled into your hair.

“Oh my god,” you started, “MJ it was insane. It all happened so fast, that Lexi got sick, so she didn’t show up! And I knew all the lines and stuff so I had to step in cause no one thought of casting an understudy and-,”

You pulled back from the hug but kept your hands on her shoulders. “Oh my god, what did you think? Was it bad? You can tell me -,”

“No! No way, holy shit Y/N, it was so good!”

“Seriously?” you smiled at her. “What happened to the whole ‘school productions are so cringe’ mindset?”

“That was before her best friend was starring in one,” said Ned. You hadn’t realized he was standing beside you two, with Peter beside him.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” He continued. “The show was amazing. And you popping up on stage was a fun surprise.”

You grinned at him. “Thank you, Ned! I’m so happy you all made it.” You looked at Peter and offered him a small smile. He’d really helped you out today, and the fact that he’d made it to the actual show, and stuck it out till the end, meant a lot as well.

“Oh of course we made it!” Ned cut it, putting your attention back on him. “Petey here wouldn’t shut up about it. Went out and bought you flowers and everything.”

Your mouth fell open at his words, and for the first time, you noticed the large bouquet in Peter’s arms. You saw Peter nudge his friend hard and Ned winced before his face lit up in understanding. He grabbed MJ by the hand (which she quickly yanked back from him) and said, “Ok, well we’re gonna go talk to someone else. Congrats Y/N!” But you didn’t have a chance to reply before he was scurrying off, MJ with him.

You stared at them for a bit before turning all your attention to Peter. He cleared his throat before saying, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“These are for you,” he said, holding out the bouquet of fresh flowers. You accepted them from him and brought them up to your nose, taking in a whiff of the sweet scent.

“My favorite.” You whispered, fingers lightly tracing the petals.

He nodded. “Yeah, um, I saw them and I thought you might like them. Especially with everything, you know,” he gestured vaguely, “thought you’d like some flowers.”

Your heart warmed at the thought that he saw your favorite flowers while he was out and thought of you. “Thank you, really. But you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” He admitted.

You looked around, unable to meet his eyes. You focused on the floor, “Well thanks Parker, that was really sweet of you.”

He sighed, “Y/N please, I don’t want to-,”

But he got cut off by someone shouting your name. “Y/N!” Brad approaches you two. He looked Peter up and down before turning to you, “Hey, so the whole cast and stuff is going out for ice cream in our costumes, thought it’d be fun. Wanna join?”

Your face lit up, “Of course!”

He grinned right back at you. “Great. Come on, they’re leaving now.

You turned towards Peter, whose expression looked harder than before. “Listen, thank you so much for your help today, it means a lot. And thank you for the flowers.”

He nodded but his attention was on Brad. He finally turned toward you, his expression notably softening, “Like I said before, anything for you Y/N/N.”

You stayed there for a bit, caught in his eyes, unable to look away. It isn’t until Brad places a hand on your shoulder that you realize you’ve been staring.

“Ready to go?” He asked. You nodded and turned to leave. As you were walking out the door, you turned to look over your shoulder. You weren’t even sure why, but as you did, you caught Peter already staring. You sent him a little wave and he returned it before turning and walking away himself, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You walked to the ice cream shop with the others, still holding your flowers. And after everything that happened today, all you could think about was Peter.

You had a blast. The ice cream shop was packed with a bunch of high school kids in old-timesy clothing, laughing and joking with each other.

Brad had paid for your ice cream, despite your multiple refusals, claiming that they all owed you for stepping in and saving their asses.

“Consider it a thank you for that great kiss earlier.” He winked before walking off.

That had gotten you to shut up.

You all sat at tables surrounding each other, even pushing some together. You ate your ice cream in peace, joining the conversation every now and then to make a joke.

Someone had gotten Lexi on the phone and you all said hello. She congratulated you and you thanked her, letting her know you thought it should’ve been her on that stage instead. She made some joke about ‘if you wanted the whole front row to be covered in vomit, then I totally should’ve been there, you’re right.’ And you all laughed.

You had noticed Jack and Lacy moved to their own spot across the store. They were laughing together with Jack’s arm around her cocooning them from the world. It seemed they had finally gotten together and you couldn’t be more happy for them.

For some reason, the only thing on your mind was Spider-Man. It was silly but all you could think about was finding a way to make things right with him. It sucked that you had no way to reach him, but you’d decided to wait on the roof tonight, hoping he’d see you while swinging and stop by. Even if he left right after you apologized, you wouldn’t mind. You just wanted to see him.

You realized how late it was getting, and that it was usually now when you met up with him. So you'd asked Martha, (her mom helped with costumes, but she worked on the props) for a ride back since she had a car and lived in an apartment building near yours.

She quickly agreed, claiming she was ready to go too, but she had to walk back to the school to grab her car.

So you’d waited, but you couldn’t fight off your anxiety. Your leg kept bouncing up and down. You stayed like that for a while before Brad put a hand on your knee, stopping the action.

“You alright,” he asked, some sort of half-smile on his face. You looked at him then and thought, I can see why people like you Brad. He was kind, he was funny, he was fairly handsome, pretty popular too. And yet all you could think about was heading back home and waiting for someone you didn’t even really know.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for Martha to pull up.”

“I could walk you home if you wanted.” He offered.

You smiled but shook your head, “No, but thank you, I’m kind of in a rush.”

“Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine.” You assured him. “Just…tired.”

“Yeah,” he nodded at you. “I get that. But hey.”

You looked up at him expectantly.

“Before you go there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Your eyes shot open. “Oh?” You said, and it felt oddly reminiscent of that moment the two of you shared in the hall.

“Yeah. Would you wanna go out with me sometime?”

“Like a date?” You blurted out. Like an idiot, you thought. You knew it was coming and yet you’re acting like he just told you he was Taylor Swift.

He smiled at you and nodded, “Yeah, like a date.”

Oh Martha, where are you?

You were silent for a few seconds before you cleared your throat. There was no crawling away this time, no Peter running to interrupt. You had to face this.

“I really like you Brad but…I can’t out with you.”

His expression fell a little, but he didn’t look surprised. “It’s Parker, isn’t it?”

You were taken aback. “Huh?”

He nodded his head towards and flowers lying in your lap, “Parker. I saw you two today. When he was helping before the show, that was all for you. He sat front row before he even knew you were going to be on that stage.”

You blew out a breath and ran a hand through your hair, which you’d taken out of its updo. “I don’t know.” You told him honestly. “I don’t know and that’s the problem. Things are still really weird between me and him, and going out with you? That wouldn’t be fair to me or you.” And the other person you couldn’t wait to see.

He nodded again, understanding coating his features. “I get that, but hey,” he smiled at you, “we’re still friends right?”

You grinned wide, relief flowing through you. The last thing you’d wanted to do was hurt his feelings and you were so glad he was taking this so well.

“Of course we are,” you replied honestly. Right then, your phone started ringing and you stood up to answer. Martha was outside waiting for you.

You walked back to your table, saying your goodbyes to everyone. You were pulled into hugs and thanked a few more times. You really wanted to take your time but you couldn’t stop the part of you that wanted to rush home and sprint onto the rooftop.

As soon as you were out the door you were sprinting to the car. You spent the whole ride anxiously fiddling with the bouquet of flowers from Peter.

You barely thanked her as you stepped out the door, closing it and waving goodbye as she pulled away.

You rushed straight up the stairs, wasting no minute. You felt hopeful, for the first time in a long time. You were going to make sure he knew you were sorry, make sure the two of you remained friends.

You stepped onto the roof, the wind blowing around you. Only then did you realize you were still in your costume. That didn’t matter though, you didn’t want to risk going down to change. And you were sure that if he did stop by tonight, he would love to hear about the crazy day you had.

You stepped close to the ledge, setting the bouquet down by your feet and you leaned over slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the hero you’d come to think of as a friend.

A weird sense of familiarity washed over you, and you realized, this was exactly what you’d been doing a few hours ago. Standing on that makeshift balcony, waiting for your lover to come so you could make amends. Except, this wasn’t a fake balcony, and there was no way you and Spider-Man were lovers, barely friends at best. But still, there was something familiar there.

You waited. And waited. Just when you were starting to give up hope, you heard the small thwip you’d come to realize signaled his arrival. Soon after, you heard a pair of feet land in the middle of your rooftop.

You turned toward him, heart racing. For a moment neither of you said anything, just stared at each other, but you quickly decided you needed to get your words out before he left again like last night.

“I am so sorry. I’ve been so worried since last night that I upset you and I can't stand it, please would you-,”

Oh….oh.

Before you could even inhale to get your next word out, he was walking towards you, ripping his mask off, gripping your face, and pulling you into a deep kiss.

You didn’t even get to see him but that was the last thought on your mind. He was kissing you. And it was perfect. Your hands flew up to his hair, and you tugged slightly, making him kiss you even harder.

His mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting his whole life to do this, and couldn’t believe he finally got the chance. You met him just as eagerly, for each kiss, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips on yours.

Something about this, all of it, felt so, so familiar. But every time you made to pull away, his lips chased yours and you couldn’t help but give in.

Soon enough you both pulled away to catch your breaths, eyes still shut as you leaned into each other, foreheads touching. You enjoyed the moment for a bit, and then you opened your eyes, about to make a joke about how that was an interesting way to accept an apology.

You gasped out loud, hands flying up to cover your mouth as you stumbled backward.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “Oh my god.”

“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry,” he says. Peter says. Because it’s Peter standing in front of you right now and he didn’t seem to be the least bit taken aback by your reaction.

You’re unsure what to say to him, your head is reeling and you can't breathe.

“Oh my god,” you repeated, your voice barely a breath.

“Y/N, please, please let me explain.” He stepped toward you and reached out a hand.

You shook your head so quick, that you thought you might give yourself whiplash. “No. This,” you pointed at him, “is so sick, Peter.” Your voice broke at the end and you tried to fight back the tears that were already burning in your eyes.

His eyes widened. “Y/N I promise you, it’s not what you think-,”

“What do you think I think Peter?” You asked him, voice full of exasperation. “Because I think, you lied to me. I think, you played me for a fool. I think, you’re sick and twisted for sitting here with me every night and playing friends with me. Asking me about my day, pretending to care. Fuck, asking me about my ex. Continuously,

“I think,” you continued, tears flowing freely now, voice shaky and weak, but still conveying your anger. “I think you got me to trust you, again. Just so you could stomp all over every bit of me, again!”

“It’s not like that Y/N, it was never like that. Please, believe me, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He begged, looking like it was taking every muscle in his body to hold himself back from pulling you in again.

“Why should I believe you?” You snapped at him. It was hard for him to believe that, just a minute ago, he was holding you again. Kissing you like nothing else in the world mattered. He’d give anything to have that back.

“Because every moment we had out here was real! Every concern, every question. I was never playing pretend, I just, ugh!” He groaned out loud, dropping his head in his hands, and tugging his hair tightly before looking up at you again. “I fucked up Y/N,” his voice is watery, and because you can’t undo the time you spent together, as Peter and as Spider-Man, you can’t help the strong impulses you feel to hold him tight. But you stand your ground and wait for him to continue.

“First when I didn’t tell you about this,” he said gesturing towards his suit. “Which has its own reasons. And then again, when I bailed on you all those times, which was because of this. And again when I let you walk away from me that night at school. I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve shown up more, I should’ve shown up every time and never given you any reason to not trust me,

“But I didn’t. And you called things off… And at that moment, all I could think was you, walking down the streets of New York, crying, and distracted.” He shuddered and your heart fell. You’d never thought of it like that. “You don’t know the things I’ve seen,” he said, looking up at you, eyes red and face flushed.

“So I thought I’d just walk you home, make sure you got there safely, and then I’d start staying away. But it was you,” his voice broke. “And you were so upset and all I could think was that it’s my fault and I hated myself. So when you invited me to hang out on the roof with you, I thought I’d show up, try to cheer you up a little,

“And you made me tea, that night,” he laughed softly. “I don’t think you even realized, but you made it the way I always drink my tea. My favorite.” Your mouth fell open a little when you realized you had, in fact, made his favorite tea that night. He’d told you during a late-night conversation before you two had started dating, and ever since, it was the only tea you drank.

“So I had to stay,” he continued. “And then we started talking, and you were joking, and telling me things I had no idea about. And I never wanted to leave,” he admitted softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him, pointing at his mask on the floor, voice raspy from the tears still clogged in your throat. “When we were still together? I’ll bet that's why you were always bailing, isn’t it?”

He looked down and nodded. “It is. Or was. I wanted to,” he looked up at you suddenly, his face so sincere, that you could feel the desperation in his next words. “God Y/N, you have no idea how many times I almost did. But I stopped myself every time because the risks of you knowing were too high.”

“Risks?” You asked confused.

He nodded, “I’ve met a lot of people. Bad people. And if the one catches wind of this, of you? If someone ever tried something, I’d never forgive myself.” He looked away shaking his head.

“So no one knows?”

He shook his head again. “Only Ned and May.”

“Ned knows?” You knew they were best friends, but really?

“It's not like that, no.” He waved his hand. “He found out by accident. He was waiting in my room one day, and I crawled in through the window ‘cause I didn’t see him.”

You huff out a breath from your nose. That was so Peter. You’d bet money that May found out in some similar situation.

“Wait,” you started, “if we went through all of that, and you still didn’t tell me, why tell me now?”

“Because I can’t stand to be away from you any longer.” His voice sounded broken, like he’d been dying to get that off his chest.

He stepped closer again, and you didn’t push him away this time, much to his surprise. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you.

“I’ll protect you from anything or anyone that may come your way. I’d do anything for you sweetheart,” he repeated his words from earlier and you felt something grow in your chest. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, the other, moving to your waist. Your hands rose up to lay on his chest.

“God, you have no idea how much it was killing me to sit beside you all those nights and not be able to touch you.” He whispered, staring straight into your eyes.

You met his gaze. You believed him, every word. You’d known Peter for years, you knew when he was lying to you, which was part of why you broke up with him. You knew he was lying to you, or holding something back from you, you just didn’t know what. But you still had a few more questions.

“Last night. Why did you run off? Why didn’t you just tell me then?”

“Because I was a coward,” he admitted, expression sad. “I was enjoying it all too much, I wasn’t ready to ruin it yet. I still couldn’t believe I found a way to still talk to you, and you were asking to see me,” he blew out a breath.

Yeah, obviously that didn’t initially start well.

You nodded. “And when you kept asking me about you. About my ex and how I felt about him, why?” That part still had you confused

He looked up, closing his eyes, “I won’t lie to you sweetheart, that was just me being a dumbass. That was complete selfishness and…,”

He trailed off. “And what?” You questioned him. There was some unspoken thing you two were doing right now, that you could ask anything, and he’d answered honestly. It was the least he could do.

“And jealously,” he finished quietly, looking down at the ground.

“Jealousy?” You repeated, still confused. “But who would you be jealous of…oh.”

And it was then that you realized how you’d talked about Brad to Spider-Man (before you knew who he was of course), and how, right after, when he’d asked about Peter, you’d said something about just trying to forget the whole thing. You had to hold back a laugh when you remembered all that. Poor guy must’ve been going insane.

He nodded. “You kept talking about that Brad guy and talking about trying to get over me. And I hated that you seemed to be getting over me so quick. Like I said, completely selfish. I'm sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head, “that makes sense actually. But seriously Peter..” You trailed off, shaking your head again.

Worry crept onto his features, “I know I messed up Y/N/N, big time, but I’m willing to do anything-,”

“You really thought I was into Brad?” You asked, wrinkling your nose up at him.

He let out a breath of relief, before laughing a little. God, he was so happy you were joking with him.

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry sweetheart.”

“You’re forgiven,” you told him, the sincerity in your tone impossible to miss, and he knew you were talking about more than the crazy jealousy.

He looked down into your eyes, his gaze so intense you almost went to look away. “I’m the luckiest man alive,” he whispered, his voice so low, you wondered if he even meant to say it out loud.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, and you took that as your cue. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. He kissed you back instantly. It was softer than the one earlier, but way more meaningful. Every press of his lips on yours felt like repairing something. Mending whatever it was that had broken between the two of you.

You pulled away first because you knew he wouldn’t, but he didn’t let you get far. He started planting kisses all over your face.

"Have I told you," Kiss. "How beautiful," Kiss. "I think you look tonight? And every night."

You laughed, face heating up at his compliments. "Thank you, Petey."

"I love it when you call me that." He said, grinning like a lovesick idiot. He leaned in and kissed your cheek one more time before he pulled away again.

"I didn't like it." He said, a frown on his face.

"Didn't like what babe?" You asked, tilting your head up at him while your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He let out a sigh, "The breakup. Being broken up. Not talking to you, as me, I mean. Not as Spider-Man. And I sure as hell didn't like seeing some other guy make out with my girl in front of everyone."

You laughed and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach when he called you his girl. "Well don't worry," you told him, moving your hands to cup his face. "We're not doing that again, not if we can help it."

You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips, before pulling away, which made him whine.

He moved his hands to your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.

“You drive me crazy, sweetheart.” He said, voice muffled by your skin.

You giggled, “You drive me crazier, Peter Parker.”

‘crazier’ taglist: @coralineyouareinterribledanger @666yourmomdotcom

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ln444 · 1 year ago

Text

santa doesn't know you like i do. . .

kinda part 2 of this

cw: spiderman!lando, fluff fluff fluff, mentions of food.

now playing: santa doesn't know you like i do by sabrina carpenter & winter time by sabrina claudio

note: happy holidays everyone ! <3 here's my gift for you, enjoy! :D

______________________________________________

lando being late didn't really faze you anymore; after all, he was spider man, and that came with a genuine excuse. however, tonight was christmas eve, and lando has promised to spend the day with you. it was already 11 am, yet there was no sign of lando. you checked the news multiple times to see if any villains required his attention, but there was nothing. sitting in front of your phone, you debated whether to call him. perhaps he was caught up in something or even sleeping; you couldn't blame him, you see everyday how being spider-man affect him physically and mentally and it's not easy. still, the disappointment lingered, especially since it was your first christmas with him.

lando checked the clock in the small, crowded coffee shop, tapping his foot impatiently and cursing under his breath. thirty minutes had passed, and he was finally nearing the front of the line, letting out a sigh of relief. unable to text you because his phone had died –a common occurrence thanks to his absent-minded self with a perpetually uncharged phone- he continues to wait, his mind torturing him with the thoughts of you waiting for him, and his anticipation grows as the scent of fresh coffee surrounded him.

after what felt like an eternity, lando finally slips back into his spider-man suit, swinging his way back to the city. his mind is clouded with negative thoughts, weighed down by the guilt of being late on such a special day. this time, he didn't really have an excuse. he had spent a good hour attempting to wrap your present earlier that morning, followed by another hour swinging to get your favorite cakes from out of town, that you mentioned a few weeks ago. the thing is, he didn't expect the place to be so popular on christmas days. he blames himself for not waking up earlier or considering watching wrapping tutorials on youtube in advance, to avoid wasting precious time trying to do it all by himself.

his heart tightened at the thought of you sitting alone in your decorated apartment –the cozy space you both had adorned together just a few weeks ago. memories flooded his mind, recalling how he got easily distracted by you every time you needed his help. eventually, it resulted in both of you sharing kisses amidst the decorations on the floor, finishing late at night. with these thoughts filling his mind, lando couldn't help but wear a smile as he swung faster, his heart beating with excitement to see you.

with his backpack loaded with the gift he got for you –and that he spent most of his morning wrapping– and one hand tightly gripping the box of your favorite cakes, lando swung as fast as he could. he was determined not to ruin the cakes, not after everything he went through. most importantly, he didn't want to disappoint you. the thought of your smile when you open the box keeps him grinning as he fly through the city.

feeling a bit down, you decide to call lando around 11:30 am, but it goes straight to voicemail. frustrated, you toss your phone on the sofa and slump onto it. gazing out the window, you hope to spot a sudden spider-man at your window but a delightful surprise awaits. instead, you found a breathless lando, adorned in an ugly christmas sweater, that matches yours –you both made a pact to wear one today–, standing outside with messy hair, braving the cold breeze. opening the window in a hurry, you're about to voice your thoughts, but lando silences you with a warm, unexpected kiss. despite your annoyance, you find yourself kissing him back.

"well, hello to you too," you scoff as you pull away, observing lando entering the room. he closes the window behind him, and you stand there with your arms crossed, lifting an eyebrow. you examine his face; his nose and cheeks turned pink because of the cold and his eyes was slightly watery because of the wind, making it hard for you to fight the urge to wrap him in your arms.

"i... baby, i'm sorry. i can explain!" he looks like a lost puppy and your heart was about to explode. you find yourself already forgetting why you're mad just by the sight.

"look!" he pulls out a box, and it doesn't take you much to recognize the logo of your favorite coffee shop. your expression softens immediately as you gaze at the boy in front of you, who wears an apologetic smile.

"lando... are you insane? how did you manage to get this?" you take the box from his hands, your fingers eager to open it to verify if it's exactly what you think it is.

"i went to that coffee shop you mentioned, that's why i'm late. i'm sorry," lando explains, and you place the box on the table, your attention now focused on him. your hands slide around his neck as you get a closer look at his face, making your heart soften. your fingers gently caresses his hair as lando's arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, and he almost sighs at the warmth of your body against his cold one. "you remembered," you whisper close to his lips, your eyes drowning in his, and his smile widens. "of course," he replies simply, pulling you into a soft and warm kiss.

"i hate you," you whimper, and lando raises an eyebrow, confused. "you make it so hard to be mad at you," lando chuckles, pecking your lips. "you have every right to be mad at me, baby," he says softly, and you use all the strength you have to fight the growing smile on your face. "you know what it means, right? no more kisses for you..."

"what? never mind, you're not allowed to be mad me," he pouts, and you giggle, pulling him for another kiss. "well, you're excused for this time, just because you brought me cake," you pull away from his embrace and lando softly whines, feeling cold again.

you take the box in your hands, placing it on the small table as he eases off his backpack. pulling out the present from it, his eyes wandering to the christmas tree adorned with festive lights. a proud smile graces his lips, but it transforms into a heartwarming glow as he notices a present beneath the tree –his present, thoughtfully placed by you. his heart swells with gratitude and affection.

"wow, looks like you have better wrapping skills than me," you playfully comment from behind, drawing him out of his reverie. lando chuckles, recalling the earlier events of the day. settling beside you on the sofa, he envelops you in his arm. "oh, i forgot to mention that i spent a good hour wrapping it this morning, thanks to youtube," he laughs and your eyebrow arches in mock accusation. "so, you're a cheater!" he pulls you closer, both of you sharing a lighthearted laugh.

"let's just eat the cakes, please. i want to erase that traumatic moment," he whines, and you giggle, placing the box on your lap. as you share your thoughts on each cake, lando's attention wavers. lost in the light of your eyes, he finds himself enchanted by the simple joy your bring to the moment. the warmth of your laughter and the sparkle in your eyes makes the moment unforgettable for him. it's moments like these that become some of lando's fondest memories, wrapped in the comfort of your company. the way you can make every single little things so interesting always fascinate him.

you turn to him, a spoonful of cake in hand, bringing it towards his mouth. a smile naturally graces his lips as he opens his mouth to accept the bite. lando doesn't miss the way your eyes gleam with a mix of excitement and impatience, and he can feel his heart warming. playfully, he draws out the moment, savoring the anticipation in your eyes, earning a playful eye-roll from you. finally, he takes a real taste, and the widening of his eyes sends a momentary wave of worry through you, concerned that he might not like it.

lando's smile widens as he observes your reaction, earning a playful slap on his thigh. "so ? do you like it?" a hint of impatience can be heard in your voice and he takes the chance to tease you about it, responding with a small kiss on your neck, sending shiver through you; "so impatient, princess," he whispers playfully and your cheeks heat, which he doesn't miss either, only deepening his grin. "no but seriously, it's the best cake i ever taste," he sincerely says and a warm glow of joy fills you. as he pulls you closer, his eyes locked onto yours, and you exchange a gentle smile.

"maybe we should go there next christmas," he casually mentions and the idea of spending another christmas with him makes your stomach flutter. "i mean, in a car, of course," he adds with a laugh and you can't help but join him, quickly pecking his lips "i would love that."

you chose to spend the day in your apartment immersing yourselves in silly christmas movies –that you take way too seriously than you should– and sharing joyous memories of holidays past. the warmth and fullness in your hearts become a precious imprint, each second spent together etched into your minds forever.

in those sweet moments, lando felt at ease just being himself around you. the chaos of superhero life fading, and you presence became a comforting escape. with you, he didn't need to be perfect or carry the superhero burden. it was a simple, special connection where he could be lando, unmasked and genuine. he realized that the past months spent by your side made him a better person in so many ways.

lost in his thoughts, he didn't catch your question or the way you patiently waited for his response while he's dumbly staring at you. "lando! are you even listening ?" you whine and, to be honest, lando did not listen, too captivated in the depth of your eyes.

he doesn't bother responding, surprising you with a kiss that feels entirely different from any you've shared before. it's like lando is trying to convey something. the kiss is filled with an overwhelming amount of love and affection, making your heart threaten to burst out of your chest. it takes a moment for you to gather yourself and reciprocate, getting lost in the rush of emotions filling your body.

lando doesn't pull back after a minute like he always does. instead, he draws you even closer, your two bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces. his tongue meets yours, initiating a dance in perfect harmony.

both of your cheeks were burning, like two teenagers sharing their first kiss. in that moment, it felt as if it was just the two of you in the whole world. lando never felt so loved and complete.

"i'm so in love with you, i think i might go crazy," lando blurts out, caught in the passionate moment you're sharing. the words lingers in the air, both of you breathless from the intensity of the kiss. his eyes reveal a mix of nerves and sincerity, and your heart races with a whirlwind of emotions, making it harder for you to catch your breath. the warmth of the embrace deepens the impact of his words, making it hard for you to think straight. lando's cheeks are burning and he mentally curses himself, blaming himself for always talking without thinking twice.

in response to lando's heartfelt confession, you tenderly stroke his warm cheek, your voice carrying the sweetest tone. "oh, lando... i'm crazy in love with you," your whispered words against his lips feel like an intimate secret shared between the two of you. your words leaves lando in awe, his mind momentarily blank, and he can't help but pull you into another kiss, drowning in the depth of the emotions exchanged.

as the soft glow of christmas illuminates your cozy apartment, you and lando find yourselves lost in each other's arms. with every shared kiss, you both savor the warmth of the holiday and the special connection makes this christmas unforgettable. in the embrace of each other, you discover that loving each other is the greatest gift, and you find yourself already excited to spend next christmas –and maybe the next one, and so on– together.

______________________________________________

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #f1 drabble #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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makoodles · 2 years ago

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Soooo I dunno if ur up for it but can we get a continuation of the baby fever thing where tsu'tey and s/o adopt spider but now it's in the future kinda like pre avatar 2 where spider is a teenager. Nothing angsty I just wanna read how Tsu'tey teaches spider things and spider calls him dad and spider finally getting that family love (I would literally die for this little boy I- *explodes*)

this is called having no self control btw! this was meant to be a 500 word drabble lol, but since you all love dad!tsu'tey so much, here we go!

continuation of baby fever

part one

pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none!

tags: fluff, dad!tsu'tey, adopted spider, pregnancy mention

"Dad, you're drawing them on crooked!" Spider complains, leaning away from his hands.

Tsu'tey frowns, looking down at his work. "They are not crooked."

"They are! Look!"

The stripes that Tsu'tey has painted onto Spider's fragile human skin upon his insistence do not looked crooked to Tsu'tey's eye, but he squints closer at them anyway.

"They look fine to me, maitan." He says with a sigh, dipping his fingers back into the paint dye and finishing up on the last stripe he had been working on. "Look at my stripes - they are not perfectly even."

Spider grumbles, but goes quiet as he darts a look at Tsu'tey's stripes. Seeing proof that Tsu'tey's stripes are not perfectly symmetrical seems to be enough to soothe him, at least for the moment.

When the kelku entrance rustles, Tsu'tey does not need to turn around to know that it's you. He knows you by the sound of your footsteps and the way your hands coast so softly over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

"Hello, boys," You murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to Tsu'tey's cheek. His ears twitch happily, and you move back to avoid getting hit with one, "Oh, Spider. The stripes again? That stuff is so hard to wash off-"

"That's the point, ma." He says, craning his head around to look at you. "I want it to last. I'm faster when I've got the stripes."

"Finished." Tsu'tey murmurs, clasping his son's shoulder before pushing himself to his feet.

Spider stands too, and Tsu'tey looks down at him thoughtfully. The stripes are a little jagged, though there's no way that Tsu'tey will ever admit that. More than anything, his attention catches on how grown Spider has become. He is still small, only reaching Tsu'tey's navel, but he has grown taller than you. His shoulders have broadened, growing thick with muscle from his long days running and playing with Na'vi children. It has always been more difficult for him to keep up, but the result of his tenacity is the impressively defined musculature at such a young age.

"We are going fishing, yawntutsyìp." Tsu'tey says to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "We will be back soon."

"I'll catch you a big one, ma." Spider adds, pushing masked face into your neck in a hug before bouncing away.

"Did you see!" Spider is still enthusing about his catch the whole walk back to the village.

"I saw." Tsu'tey confirms. The woven basket with their catch is slung over his shoulder, and a content sort of smirk is playing around his mouth as he watches Spider bounce over the tree roots.

"It was huge, and I nearly missed it but then I managed to hit it right as it darted out from behind those big rocks-"

"It was very impressive." Tsu'tey intones, reaching out to ruffle at Spider's hair.

Spider is still grinning, flying high on the success of his mini hunt. "I told you that the stripes made me faster!"

Tsu'tey lets out a rumbly sort of laugh, letting his hand drop from the top of Spider's head to the back of his neck and letting it rest there. His son is growing older, becoming a man, and yet he is still so small under Tsu'tey's hands. He feels a flare of vicious protectiveness deep in his chest, but that's nothing new.

"It was a very good catch, maitan." He murmurs, squeezing lightly at Spider's shoulders.

Spider looks down at his feet as he skips over another exposed tree root. "Do you think I'll be a good hunter?"

Tsu'tey tilts his head, and catches at Spider's bicep as he slips on moss. Once he is sure that he's stable on his feet, he releases his arm and pats him on the back.

"Yes. You have a good teacher." He bares his teeth at Spider in a grin, and gets a little smile in return. "But even if your talents do not lie in hunting, that will be okay. No matter what your skills are, I will be proud of you, my boy."

Spider's cheeks redden, but he smiles back all the same. The corners of his eyes crinkle just like yours do, and Tsu'tey's heart swells at the similarity between the two of you. His precious little family.

When they enter the village, you're waiting by one of the cookfires. You're fiddling with a couple of beads, and Tsu'tey recognises that you're weaving together a hair decoration.

"Yawntu," Tsu'tey calls as he approaches with Spider at his hip. "Look at what our son caught."

Spider takes the basket from him and bounds forward, grinning wide behind his mask as he proffers it at you. You make a big show of oohing and ahhing as you look into the basket, looking very impressed indeed.

"What big fish," You say. "These could feed the whole village for days!"

It had taken Tsu'tey quite some time to learn how to read the body language of Sky People, but even he can see how pleased Spider is. If he had a tail, it would be swishing wildly.

"I'm gonna go show Lo'ak." Spider says with a grin. "He couldn't catch anything yesterday! Jake isn't as good a teacher, I guess."

"Spider." You scold, giving him a look.

"Go, show Lo'ak." Tsu'tey encourages. "Make sure that Jakesully sees too. Show him that my son is a fine hunter."

"Tsu'tey!" You chide, delivering a smack to his thigh.

Spider just laughs, before taking the woven basket and running with it deeper into the village towards the Sully's kelku. Tsu'tey watches him go, before turning to you with a smug little grin.

"Ma'yawntutsyìp," He murmurs, leaning forward and pressing his forehead into yours. "He did well. He is growing skilled."

You cup the back of his head with one hand, scratch at his head with your little fingers. He lets his eyes slide shut lazily as he enjoys the feeling of your warm body so close to his after a hunt. He drops his head further into the cradle between your shoulder and neck and nuzzles there.

"I do not like him hanging around with Jakesully's children," He murmurs, his voice muffled in your throat. "There are many other children in the village."

"Oh stop," You mumble, your fingers massaging at his scalp, "They’re good kids."

"Neteyam is like Neytiri. Sensible." He grunts into your skin. "But Lo’ak is like Jakesully. He will get Spider into trouble."

"Oh, Tsu'tey." You sigh in that way you usually do when you think he's being dense. "They're both good kids. Besides, he's not really going to show Lo'ak anyway. He's going to show Kiri."

His brow furrows. "Kiri? She has no interest in fishing."

You sigh again, although this time you seem a little more amused. "I seem to remember you showing off your fishing skills to me when we were younger, hm?"

"That was different," He says dismissively. "I was courting you. That was my way of expressing interest, of showing you that I am strong."

"Mhm." You say, as though you're waiting for something.

Slowly, Tsu'tey raises his head from where it's buried in your shoulder and squints at you. He's not sure if he's following what you're suggesting.

"You do not think this is the same?" He asks, frowning. "Spider is- he is too young. He cannot be thinking of mating yet-"

"Oh, he isn't." You interrupt with a quick shake of your head. "It's a little crush, love. It's sweet."

But Tsu'tey is frowning, his mind overactive. "Does she- how does Kiri feel? If she does not share his feelings, he will be so disappointed-"

"He isn't going to be proposing anytime soon, relax."

"He needs someone who will value him-"

"Tsu'tey."

He falls quiet, looking into your eyes with a thoughtful little frown. You're looking right back at him, mouth quirked.

"He's a teenager with a crush. Let him be." You murmur, stroking a thumb over one of his pointed ears and making him shiver.

Tsu'tey just grumbles. "He has not told me about a crush."

"Well, I'm sure he will," You say simply. "He's a teenage boy. He's going to be shy about it."

Tsu'tey huffs, and looks down at his hands with a scowl. The thought of his small human boy developing feelings for someone who may not return them makes him feel shifty and aggravated – how is he supposed to protect him from such a thing? It will hurt him so much, and there is nothing that Tsu'tey can do to stop it.

"Stop overthinking." You mutter, nudging against his bicep with your shoulder as you finish tying the hair decoration together. "For all you know, Kiri likes him too and is just shy about it."

Tsu'tey grunts. The thought of Spider, such a small and weak little thing, having his feelings at the mercy of Jakesully's daughter makes him feel a little as though he's losing his mind.

"Hey."

When you nudge him again, he turns to you fully. The beaded hair decoration in your hands is finished, all red beads and golden yellow feathers. You hold it up, eyes bright.

"I made this for you." You say, holding it out for him.

Tsu'tey's stern expression softens, and he ducks his head closer to you. "For me? Will you put it on, yawntu?"

Your sweet little face is so bright as you shuffle forward and reach up for his face. Tsu'tey watches you carefully, reaching out to lay his hands against your waist as you wind the beaded decoration around a small section of braids just behind his ear.

"So handsome." You coo at him when it's tucked neatly behind his ear.

Tsu'tey smiles, satisfied. "Thank you."

You sit back and then nestle into him. He opens his arms and accepts you into his side easily, resting his chin over the top of your head contently.

"Our son will be a good hunter." He says, pressing a kiss to the curve of your shoulder. "And a good brother."

His hand lands on the curve of your belly, his thumb smoothing over the swell of it beneath your woven top. You lean into his touch, sighing happily as his other hand massages at the base of your spine.

"I know," You say simply, making a soft noise when he leans down to cup below your belly with his hands, lifting some of the weight up. "You've taught him well."

Pride swells in his chest, and he purrs softly as he presses his face into your neck again. You smell so sweet and comforting, and he inhales contently against your skin.

His small son has grown so strong, and his little mate fits so perfectly into his arms, no matter how large your belly has swollen. His family is so small and weak; he holds you close as his chest rumbles, pleased that he's large and strong enough to protect you all.

#this is so fuckin self-indulgent lmaoooo #tsu'tey x reader #fluff #avatar headcanons #tsu'tey fic #avatar x reader #avatar 2 #avatar wotw #tsu'tey #fics

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da-rulah · 1 year ago

Text

The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 4]

Summary: Mary can't think straight; at least, not about anything but you. He's angry, and he's hurt - rightly so - but he can't help the feeling that he's missing something. His spider senses are tingling, and his saviour complex is nagging in his head...

Meanwhile, you're dragged to a formal dinner at the Town Hall with your father's sleazy political associates. What could possibly go wrong?

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: Angst, childhood memories/trauma, alcoholism, addiction, minor drug use, creepy men being creepy, unwanted physical touch/harassment, abandonment, panic attacks

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles & @angellayercake for workshopping and beta reading this fic with me! I live for their reactions every time I sent them an idea or a draft... 🤭 This chapter got away from me, as so many do, and ending up pretty damn long... Enjoy!

He had to be quick. Any longer, and he might be chased out. But he couldn’t help himself... he wanted to look, to touch...

“HEY!” A gruff male voice shouted from somewhere behind him. Mary startled, stumbling back and shoving his hands in his pockets. “These are for people who know what they’re doing, not little hooligans!”

The store clerk came rushing over, coming in between Mary and the beautiful Gibson Les Paul on display, hung up on the wall amongst the others. The body shone in a stunning hue of deep red wood, orange bursting from the fret board. He’d always dreamt of owning a guitar like this – or any at all. He just wanted to pick one up, to learn, to play.

“S-sorry mister... I didn’t mean to-”

“Go on, out with you! Comin’ in here every damn day, gettin’ in the way of my customers. Go on, get!” The old man shooed a 10-year-old Mary out of the store, shutting the door in his face and folding his arms behind the glass, watching until Mary finally sagged his little shoulders and sighed to himself, trudging down the sidewalk with his head hung low.

Other people were allowed in to look at the guitars, to touch them, test them; why wasn’t he? Sure, he knew he was a kid but he wasn’t a bad kid... He knew he could never afford a guitar like that Les Paul, but oh how he dreamed of owning his own guitar. Just a little acoustic thing to practise on. He'd put in the work, he’d swear it. He just wanted to learn.

Still, Mary headed home with his hands in his pockets and his head hung low, avoiding the eyes of the adults around town who looked down on him with looks of either disgust or pity; he was never sure which was worse.

“Mom?” he called out as he walked into the small and run-down little apartment block on the edge of town. They’d had to move in here almost a six months ago after his father left, unable to afford much else on his mother’s salary; her job at the local diner didn’t pay well.

Music from the radio filtered through the hall, along with the smell of yesterday’s spaghetti being reheated on the stove. “In here, baby,” a weak shout came from the kitchen. She sounded weaker with each week that passed, barely eating and drinking far too much to be considered healthy at all. Mary had spotted that, not totally understanding the ramifications of it at his tender age but he was wiser beyond most 10-year-old’s years. That’s the thing about a shitty childhood; you grow up quick.

Still, he was grateful his father was out of the picture now. Honestly? The lesser of two evils. It was better him gone than be here still, hurting everybody around him.

Mary headed into the kitchen, sitting down at the small table for the two of them and waiting patiently as his mum stirred the pot over the stove, her back to him. He watched as her left hand lifted a glass from beside the stove; a wine glass, half-filled with the cheapest red on the market.

“Good day?” she asked, looking briefly over her shoulder. Mary just shrugged; he hadn’t paid much attention in school, and he didn’t want to tell her about being chased out of the music store. Although he wasn’t sure what he’d done to get kicked out, he still lived under the assumption it was somehow his fault.

His mother hummed along to the radio as she heated their food, taking gulps of the wine to her left and refilling it before plating up two small bowls of food – hers noticeably smaller – and sitting opposite Mary as she placed them down.

“Thank you,” he smiled at her shyly, never forgetting his manners as he tucked into his meal. His mother smiled fondly at her boy, twirling her fork in the pasta noodles as she sipped her wine. The radio played to fill the silence, songs from another decade that had his mother reminiscing over happier years.

As he chewed, he thought back to that guitar, how he’d do anything to have one like that. But he’d settle for a smaller, cheaper, second-hand one. He’d be delighted with one. He just wanted to learn how to play, and then maybe one day, his mom could hum along to his songs on her radio.

“Ma, I think I know what I want for my birthday...”

“Oh? Well good! I was wondering when you’d give me some ideas,” she smiled. Mary hesitated, chewing his lip. Was he asking for too much? Perhaps, but he had to try at least. “Come on, baby, what is it?”

“Well... can I get a guitar? Not like, an expensive one or anything... Just second-hand or something. I wanna learn to play, Ma. I think I’d get real good at it!” he rambled, his excitement barely contained as he thought about how people might change how they saw him if he could prove he was good at something, that he could work hard and prove himself.

His mother’s smile faltered, fading as she dropped her fork against her bowl and grabbed her wine glass, finishing the rest of it off and pouring herself another hefty glass.

“Baby, guitars aren’t cheap, even the second-hand ones...” she began, her voice quiet and full of regret.

“No, I know, but I thought, maybe if I could get a job somewhere, I could mow lawns or something, maybe help Mr Rogers at the carpenters or get a paper route, then maybe I could-”

“Baby you’re ten years old, you should just be a kid as long as you can,” she smiled sadly, her eyes betraying her as they glassed over with tears. It broke her heart to see her little boy so desperate to be a man, to help her, to help pay for his own damn birthday present.

“I... I can still be a kid, I just thought I could help?” he questioned.

“I just don’t think I can afford it baby...” Mary’s shoulders slumped, his own fork dropping into his bowl as he sat back against the chair in defeat.

“Could you stop buying wine for a little, Ma? I just really want a guitar... And then you can get more again. Just for a bit, I promise!”

If her heart wasn’t already breaking for her little boy, it did then. The guilt rose like bile in her throat, her eyes staring at the bottle on the table, her glass emptied again and the taste lingering on her tongue. She’d had her own selfishness reflected back at her, a mirror held up to the truth; the truth being that her lips were stained with the red of her addiction, paired with her sunken eyes, bearing the weight of her sorrow.

She should try, she thought to herself. For him, for her little Mary. He never asked her for anything, and the one thing he wants in the world for his birthday was a crummy little second-hand guitar? She should be able to give him that; as a mother, she wanted to give him the world. He certainly deserved it after all he’d been through.

“I-I’ll... I’ll try, Mary. I’ll really try,” her voice cracked, swallowing the guilt down and forcing the tears to recede. Mary nodded to himself, looking down into his bowl and back to hers that even untouched, still had less in than his half-eaten leftovers.

He stood up, the bowl in his hands and placed it down in front of her. She needed to eat more, he thought.

“Oh, baby no, it’s okay. You should ea-”

“I’m not that hungry, Ma. Please take it.”

She stopped protesting, nodding as she held a shaking hand out to hold his cheek, stroking her thumb over the pudge he was yet to grow out of with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, angel,” she told him, pressing a wine-stained kiss to his forehead. “I promise, I’ll try harder.”

Deft fingers plucked at the strings of a battered old acoustic guitar. The wood was splintering where the neck met the body, the varnish worn down in places that hands would dance over as it had been played to within an inch of its life. Stickers littered the body, hiding nicks and damages from over the years but they too were beginning to wear down to white patches of nothing.

Still, she sang like a dream the way she always had. Mary’s skilled hands worked her strings mindlessly, drifting from riffs he’d learned of his favourite bands over the years to riffs of his own he’d written – the most recent sounding much more melancholy than he’d anticipated.

Sitting in his dimly lit studio apartment, he reclined against the wall at the head of his bed with his first guitar in his lap. His intention had been to drift off into his own world, to write some riffs for songs he could present to the guys and form into tracks for upcoming shows, but he’d been unable to focus, his fingers working on muscle memory alone as his head drifted to the same thing he’d thought of for the last few days.

He’d had time to calm down, for the fog of anger to dissipate and now he’d entered the reflection stage. The anger morphed into hurt, reminded once again that no matter if you wanted him or not, you still were ashamed to be seen with him. He didn’t fit your image, his mere existence in your life was inconvenient and a black stain on your pristine white image.

He wondered if cleaning himself up was an option for a brief moment. What if he didn’t paint his face? What if he wore a shirt instead of his cut off band tees? What if he styled his hair different? All the ‘what if’s swam around his head, but they’d be lies. Mary was many things, but never a phony. He refused to bow down to public opinion and become one of the masses if it meant sacrificing everything that was genuinely him.

He decided he’d rather be hated for who he was, than adored for something he wasn’t. Which is exactly the life you were living.

You’d chosen a world where people loved you, fell at your feet to be known by you and yet somewhere along the way, you’d sacrificed whoever you truly were, covered it up with bows and frills and shiny trinkets. He almost felt sorry for you.

Still, he couldn’t swallow the nagging feeling that he’d done something wrong, that he was letting you slip through his fingers. He wasn’t dumb; Mary knew there was more to you than this image. He’d seen glimpses of it, this vulnerable yet feisty woman clawing at you from inside. Frankly, you drove him crazy. He'd never wanted anything for himself so badly in his life, except maybe the guitar in his hands. He couldn’t lay his eyes on you without wanting you; perhaps up until recently, he thought that was simply physical attraction, a need to take you and have you both coming undone together.

But the way you plagued his mind, how he thought of you during the smallest moments of peace to himself... he was beginning to understand he’d formed a kind of connection with you he couldn’t begin to explain. But he was starting to recognise a feeling within himself that stung like rubbing alcohol on a wound, a feeling that shot him right back to his childhood, to a place so painful he’d shoved it down and ignored it for years.

Before he could go down that route, his shook his head to rid the memories and lay his guitar gently beside him, reaching for his smokes on his nightstand. Lighting one up with his zippo lighter, he rested himself back against the wall, swiping a hand down his face in exasperation. He’d spent too long on this, too many moments infiltrated by thoughts of you.

If Mary was being honest with himself, he only had to ask himself one simple question; were you worth compromising everything he knew about himself? Were you worth him changing himself, becoming something he wasn’t so he could be ‘acceptable’ in your world?

No.

Because that was a world that would only ever see him as a delinquent. They had when he was a child, a teenager and now into adulthood. The second they’d known who his father was, who his mother was, they’d judged him. That would never change, so why should he?

The town hall ballroom was the last fucking place you wanted to be at any given moment, let alone when it was filled with governors, police chiefs, politicians and seedy businessmen. If you’d had your way, you’d have stayed tucked up in bed, like you’d spent most of your spare time in the last week or so since the Bicentennial fair. Facing reality was something you’d tried to avoid, but that wasn’t going to be possible for Daddy’s big dinner party for all the town’s biggest officials.

No, you were to be paraded like a shiny trophy daughter tonight, mingling with the rich and seedy underbelly of your father’s political career. These people made your stomach turn and your skin crawl. You observed them from the corner of the room, a glass of prosecco in a hand covered by white satin gloves to the elbow, in a fancy, floor-length, glittered evening dress of the same pale peach colouring as the bubbly. Your mother had picked the outfit, “elegance with a touch of sparkle” she had said.

Watching them mingle and chatter away, you could barely help the expression on your face turning to one of vague disgust. Your father made his way around the room, shaking hands and rubbing shoulders with the elite while your mother followed in tow, laughing at all the jokes she must have heard a thousand times over the years and nattering with the wives in the room about the latest gossip.

Shallow; all of this was so fucking shallow. But the worst part? This was your future. Your mother... her life was the future your father had paved for you, expected you to walk. You couldn’t think of anything worse.

“Pumpkin! Come and say hello to Mr. Nelson,” you father flagged you down from your inner monologue of disapproval, notably stood with an old man you recognised as the town’s previous Mayor. Mr. Nelson had handed the title over to your dad when you were little, staying a consistent advisor in the governing of the town’s affairs ever since his retirement six years ago.

You’d never liked him. There was something untoward about him, sleazy and manipulative; but that’s politicians for you.

You knocked back the rest of your prosecco glass for a bit of liquid encouragement and walked towards them with your prettiest fake smile on.

“Good evening, Mr. Nelson,” you said, taking his outstretched hand to shake.

“Good evening, my dear!” He didn’t let go of your hand like you’d expected, instead tightening his grip and pulling you to lean forwards so he could press a whiskered kiss to your cheek – or what was actually closer to the corner of your lips. When he leaned back, he winked at you, still keeping hold of your hand to lift it, unashamedly scanning his eyes over your body in your dress and twirling you like a doll on a music box. “My, my... how you’ve grown, hm?”

Your eyes locked onto your father, who was smiling at you fondly as if there wasn’t a problem. You, however, were exceedingly uncomfortable. You looked back to Mr. Nelson, smiling and acting the part. Honestly, you’d always wondered if acting would be a good career for you; you did it often enough.

“Quite the beautiful young lady these days,” Mr. Nelson commented, letting go of your hand and coming to stand beside you, a hand resting on the small of your back as he turned to speak to your father.

“She gets all that from her mother, of course,” he smiled proudly, squeezing the shoulders of your mother beside him, who swatted him with her own gloved hand.

“Oh, stop it, you charmer,” she laughed. You recoiled from the interaction, uncomfortable that there was still a hand on you at all, let alone on the small of your back.

“Your father was telling us about your college days; quite impressive, my dear!” Mr. Nelson said, his hand patting just above the curve of your behind.

“Y-yeah... I mean, thank you, sir,” you smiled graciously. How could you get out of this?

“Now, if only we could find her a nice man to settle down with,” your father joked, your mother smiling along with him as Mr. Nelson chuckled.

“I’m sure that won’t be difficult, hm? Plenty of fine men about town. Any catch your eye?” he asked, looking down at you with a raised white eyebrow.

Instantly, your mind flew to Mary. Certainly, he was not the kind of ‘fine man’ Mr. Nelson or your father would envision for you; in fact, you’re sure they would recoil in horror, but you couldn’t help but think of him. Any opportunity for your brain to remind you of how painfully you’d fucked that up, it would take.

You took too long to answer, head full of Mary as it so often was.

“Pumpkin, Mr. Nelson asked you a question,” he insisted with an expectant nod of his head.

“Oh, not to worry. She clearly has somebody in mind, if the mere mention of a man has her daydreaming about him, hm?” he chortled, his hand now slipping lower to pat at the curve of your backside. Instinctively you jumped forward half a step to get away from the unwanted contact, head whipping to your father in the hope he’d seen that, that he’d step in and defend you. But of course, he didn’t.

“Pumpkin? What’s gotten into you, hm?” His glare was disapproving, his eyebrow quirking as he waited for your answer, but an awkward silence fell on the four of you instead.

“I, um... I’m so sorry, I think I lost my balance. These, uh, damn heels, that’s all,” you laughed nervously, averting the eyes of everyone around you.

“Perhaps a little too much bubbly,” Mr. Nelson accused, tipping his head towards your empty flute in your hand.

“Y-yes, maybe... Perhaps I need some air. Would you excuse me?”

You were turning and leaving before your father could stop you, shoving the glass in your hand onto the tray of a waiter on your way to the door, ignoring the calls of “pumpkin!” behind you, sounding aggravated and embarrassed. Heads turned to watch you leave but you couldn’t look at them, overwhelmed and uncomfortable. You just had to get out.

You headed directly for your father’s office, a small and private space to collect yourself before inevitably having to go back to the ballroom sooner rather than later, lest your father come looking for you.

Finally alone and in a quiet spot, you slumped into your father’s chair behind his desk, spinning absentmindedly from side to side guided by your stiletto on the ground. You focussed on breathing, helping to subside the panic that had risen in you. Bad enough you’d been forced to come to this thing, let alone subjected to the wandering hands of a man who’d known you since you were barely out of diapers. This evening was the nightmare you’d expected it to be.

Looking around your father’s office, it hadn’t changed much. The American flag stuck in his pen cup, the portrait of President George Washington on the wall, the photo frame on his desk that housed a very official looking family portrait taken when you were still in middle school.

This was your life. This façade of pomp and circumstance, governed by sleazy men and dodgy business deals... this was all you could see for yourself. No wonder you were clinging onto Mary by your perfectly manicured fingernails, allowing him back in so easily whenever there was room in your mind. He was the antithesis of that horrendous life already mapped out for you. He was the embodiment of freedom to you, someone that lived their life governed by them and them alone.

He liked dark things, heavy music, grungy clothes. He didn’t restrict himself, lived freely, chasing the dreams he so obviously strived for. He didn’t care what people thought of him, he lived his truth.

You wished you could live like that.

Lost to your musings and memories of brief encounters with Mary, you startled at the sound of the door to your father’s office slamming shut, with him stood before it. He’d come alone, his arms folded over his chest in his crisp tuxedo, and a hardened look of fury in his features.

Your stomach dropped and you sat upright immediately; this wasn’t going to be pretty.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper and yet spat through clenched teeth.

“Daddy, I just... Mr. Nelson, he-”

“Don’t you ‘daddy’ me. Do you realise how embarrassing that was for your mother and I?” he scolded. You swallowed your words, thrown right back to being told off as a child. “Mr. Nelson thinks you were drunk. Are you?”

“No, daddy, I swear!” you protested, having only drank two glasses... on an empty stomach and faster than a shot of your favourite flavour schnapps.

“Then explain why you were so damn rude to him, hm?” he raised his voice, stepping towards you and leaning down on his own desk by his palms.

“He put his hands on me! He’s a creep, dad!” you matched his volume, defending yourself. Your dad just scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“He’s a respected member of this community. One bad word from him, and this could all be over for us. My career, our way of life, everything! Do you understand that?” he shouted. How silly of you to think your own father might take your side when one of his creep associates lay a finger on you.

“It was a knee-jerk reaction, he touched my ass dad, like some fucking pervert!” you yelled back, standing from his chair and finding the guts to finally answer back, to fight for what was right instead of pander to him. Mary would be proud.

“You watch your mouth, young lady. I am your father-”

“YES! YOU ARE! And as my father, I thought you might stand up for me, oh, I don’t know, maybe be disgusted when some old man lays a hand on your daughter’s ass!”

Your father lifted an accusatory finger at you, wagging it in your face as if scolding a bad dog. “He was talking to you about your future. A future that he can take away with a snap of his fingers.” He demonstrated with the hand he waved wildly in front of you. “You’re lucky your mother has such a way with words...”

“You mean she’s a good liar,” you laughed humourlessly. “Suppose you have to be in this kind of life...” His face paled, his eyes darkening and appearing to sink further into his skull as he stood up straight, his brow furrowing.

“I have worked for over two decades to build us ‘this life’,” his voice deepened, darkening considerably as he loomed over you. “Look around you. Do you think this just happens? I have done nothing but provide for you, you ungrateful little girl.”

“This is the problem... I’m not a little girl anymore, and you still treat me like I can’t think for myself. I’ve got my own mind, things that I want to do. Do you give a shit about that at all?” The anger inside you you’d caged up for too long was surfacing, the heat on that simmering pot turning up with every word out of your father’s mouth. Already you were too far gone to reel it back in. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to hear this.

“I give a shit about this family!” he screamed. “I will not allow you to tear it all down in some childish tantrum!”

“Tear what down?!” you protested, “I just want to be able to do something for myself for a change, to start my life! It’s got nothing to do with your prestige as Mayor, I just want to be able to finally crawl out from under your shadow!"

Your father ignored you completely, still only seeing the pigtailed little girl from the portrait on his desk standing in front of him. He had no idea she’d grown up before his very eyes. He’d blinked and missed it, too damn focussed on his own career and image to notice.

“You selfish little brat. You don’t get it, do you?” he sneered, “This is MY TOWN! MY LEGACY! You will live by MY RULES!”

And truthfully, that was all it was ever going to boil down to. His fucking legacy.

You sagged your shoulders in defeat, tears begging to fall out of anger. Everything you thought your dad still believed, he’d proven to you in just a few minutes; you were still a child to him, and his legacy was more important than your own happiness. Nothing you could say would win this fight. Nothing would make him see how badly he was hurting you.

You took a deep breath, composing yourself to speak a little calmer, more collected. With emotions heightened, it was easy to yell and scream back at him, to get carried away but you were determined to show him this was not some ‘tantrum’. You meant this.

“What if I don’t want to do that anymore?” you asked, staring him straight in the eye. The air seemed to thicken around you as you waited for it to soak in, for him to hear you, process, and respond. The silence was suffocating.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, turning his head to present his ear as if he hadn’t heard you, but he most certainly had. He just wanted you to repeat yourself, testing you, warning you; did you have the balls to say it again?

“What if... I don’t want to live by your rules anymore?” You spoke calmly, methodically. You will listen, you thought to yourself.

Your father straightened up again, his head twitching as he tidied up his cuff links, straightened his bow tie and slicked back his hair before he gave you the time of day. This was just a part of his intimidation, his macho technique, reminding you he was a distinguished man, one with power. When he finally looked you in the eye again, his face was set in stone.

“Then you can get the hell out of my office.”

Like a punch to the gut, it knocked the wind right out of you. He wanted you to leave.

“F-fine...” you stuttered, walking around the desk as if to head for the door, pulling your cell phone out of your clutch, “I’ll get one of your lap dogs to take me home, and we’ll talk about this in the morning,” you told him, trying to keep a modicum of dignity, prove to him you were an adult and taking the moral high ground. But your father laughed...

“I don’t think you heard me. Perhaps you didn’t understand...” he turned around to face you, now stood by the door to his office. “This is my town, Pumpkin. This whole town is my office.”

The weight of what he was saying fell like a barrel of hot tar over you, the scorching, searing pain radiating through you. You stared in disbelief, waiting for him to laugh, to tell you he was kidding, just pushing your buttons to see your reaction but nothing... He just stared at you, as you stared at him, like a deer in headlights.

“Y-you’re not serious...?” you dared to whisper, shaking your head in denial.

“Deadly. Get out,” he growled, “or do I have to call security?”

Those angry tears turned into streams now falling down your cheeks silently while you were unable to blink, processing his command until your body moved of its own accord, reaching for the doorknob and opening it behind you.

“I’m sure your precious town will love to hear about this,” you threatened, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. He just smirked and folded his arms over his chest again.

“Careful, Pumpkin. Daddy’s got one hell of a legal team; and they’re all eating out of his palm in that ballroom tonight.”

He had you beat. Checkmate. Every credible lawyer – and the seedy ones – were on his damn payroll. You couldn’t win this no matter what you did. You just had to walk away...

And so, you did. Quietly, you slipped out from the opulent town hall and found yourself stood on a street corner a couple of blocks away, out of the sight of not only your father and his invitees behind the huge windows of the ballroom, but out of sight of his cronies, already given the instruction to make sure you left quietly, and didn’t attempt to come back in.

You were alone, as you had become so accustomed to being.

Every riff felt wrong. For over a week now, Mary tried to write something new, something fresh that he’d never heard before, that excited him and inspired him but... nothing. He was beginning to think he’d lost his touch. He knew he couldn’t force inspiration to come, but this was a longer, drier spell than even he was used to...

He reached for his pack of smokes on the nightstand where they usually sat, only to discover he was fresh out – that last cigarette had truly been his last.

“Shit,” he cursed to himself, crushing the empty box in his palm and throwing it in the general direction of the trash can, hitting the rim and bouncing off to the floor beside two or three other crumpled cigarette boxes from the last few days.

Whew, he thought to himself, smokin’ more now, too. Awesome. Still, ignoring the mess he’d neglected to tidy, he stood up from his bed with a stretch, abandoning his tattered acoustic on his bed. His leather jacket that he’d slung over the back of his couch still held his keys, wallet and cell phone from his last outing to the gas station, and so he slithered his arms into the sleeves and headed for the door.

He knew he didn’t need to take the van to travel the four blocks to the gas station on the edge of town just for cigarettes, but there was something about a late-night drive that calmed Mary. It always felt like one of those rare moments where he got to be himself; a decent band on the stereo and some open road to clear his head.

He also knew he didn’t need to go all the way to the gas station for smokes; the convenience store on the corner would do just fine. Except, Forrest usually worked the late-night shifts at the gas station, and he’d get to take advantage of his staff discount.

“Hey man!” Mary called out as he walked into the store, the bell dinging above his head. Forrest looked up from the magazine he was reading, slumped over the counter.

“Well, look what the dogs dragged in...” Forrest smirked, “where’d you fuck off to the other night?”

Ah. He’d never explained where he’d disappeared to the night of the fair, nor had he seen any of his friends since. He hadn’t realised he’d shut himself off for that long, but seemingly, he had.

“Oh, uh...” he stammered, thinking up an excuse.

“Some chick got your attention, huh?” he stood upright and folded his arms, leaning against the edge of the counter. “I don’t know how you do it, man. You got ‘em lining up out the door. You shoot strawberry milkshake outta that dick, or what?” Mary relaxed instantly, his alibi already created for him.

“Why, you wanna taste?” he mocked, shooting a flying kiss at him as he stepped up to the counter in an overly camp, seductive walk to make the other laugh.

“I’ll stick to the slurpie machine, thanks,” he joked, pretending to gag at the thought of Mary’s strawberry milkshake. “You need somethin’, or you just here to entertain me?”

“Outta smokes,” Mary shrugged. “I’ll grab the usual.”

Forrest nodded, turning his back to fish through the cigarettes that lined the wall behind the counter, coming to the brand Mary would usually purchase. Mary looked to his left, seeing a special offer on party size bags of Takis and an array of candy bars. He chucked a bag up on the counter with some candy and fished inside his jacket for his wallet as Forrest rung him up.

“Big plans tonight, huh?”

“Oh yeah, big night in with my favourite girl, Mary Jane,” Mary waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Explains the snacks, you always did get munchies worse than any of us...” he laughed, punching his employee code into the register to add his discount; something he did without thinking these days. Mary was always grateful. “$15.75”

“Thanks, man,” Mary handed over a twenty, shoving the change back in his wallet just as his phone started to buzz in his other pocket. He whipped it from his jacket, checking the caller ID when his chest tightened.

You.

Mary sneered at the phone in his hand, shoving it back into his pocket with a scowl on his face. If Forrest noticed, he didn’t question it, probably assuming it were a telemarketing scam.

“We should get a practise in before Saturday,” Forrest suggested, “I think Davey’s free on Tuesday? And I'm off too.” Mary hadn’t forgotten; they had a show to play in the city, some new goth club were having a metal night, and word of Mary’s band was starting to spread beyond the scene they’d been playing for the last two years.

“Uh yeah.” His phone stopped buzzing in his pocket. He ignored the feeling of disappointment in him, that gnawing voice in the back of his head that told him he should have answered it. “Yeah, I think I’m free. You wanna see if Jed’s about?”

Forrest made a noise that sounded vaguely like an affirmative as Mary picked up the bag with his purchases inside.

“Alright, uh...” Mary’s phone began vibrating in his pocket again, barely any respite since the last call. He ignored it, trying to claw himself back to reality instead of letting his mind drift to whatever you could possibly be calling him for. He was sure it was only one thing, anyway. “Let me know, man!”

“Yeah, see ya!” Forrest grinned, shutting the register with a ping and picking up his discarded magazine as Mary turned and left, the bell dinging above the door again. He stood outside for a moment, fishing his phone out of his pocket and seeing that it was indeed your name that flashed on his screen.

Once again, he ignored it, shoving it this time into the back pocket of his jeans and skulking back over to his van, parked in a bay near the door. It stopped just as he wrenched the door open with a rusty creak, throwing his bag into the passenger seat. He climbed in behind it, slamming the door shut and settling into the seat as he shoved the keys into the ignition. As he turned them and the engine roared to life with his stereo, he took a deep breath, leaning back against the head rest and desperately willing the thoughts of you to leave him be.

He’d wasted too much time on you already, and he meant what he’d said last time. He was tired of being everybody’s dirty little secret, and he wasn’t about to answer your fucking booty call. Not again.

Reaching into the plastic bag beside him, he pulled out his carton of cigarettes and ravaged the packaging until he could pry one from the box and shove it between his lips, pushing the lighter button in on his dashboard and waiting patiently for it to heat. Closing his eyes, he waited for the telltale click, reclining into his seat, when his phone began to buzz in his back pocket once again.

Mary’s eyes shot open, anger coursing through his veins. Were you that desperate to get laid? It wasn’t fair. He thought he’d made it clear where he stood, that he wasn’t interested in being picked up and dropped whenever someone felt like it anymore. He had to start thinking less with his dick and more with his head – and his heart.

But you were not getting the message – ignoring your calls wasn’t working. Maye he just needed to say it in black and fucking white.

Muttering curses to himself, he fished his phone from his back pocket where he sat, seeing that the caller ID did indeed read “Doll” again. He turned the volume of his stereo way down, took a deep breath, and answered the call.

“Look, I’m really not interested in being your booty call, Barbie,” he spat down the microphone, “so you might wanna just give it up now before you embarrass yourself.”

He was met with silence. He almost wanted to laugh, picturing the look of sheer shock on your face as you sat surrounded by your pink frills and stuffed animals in that ivory tower of yours. But instead, he waited. Would you dare speak? Argue with him? He’d managed to rile himself up enough by this point that maybe a fight was exactly what he needed to expel the rage.

The silence continued for a beat too long, and confusion set in. His brow furrowed, checking his phone screen to see if you’d hung up but no, you were still connected. He lifted the phone to his ear again, waiting... and then he heard it.

A sob.

A sob so small and timid, he thought maybe he wasn’t supposed to have heard it. But instantly, his face paled, and his chest hollowed. Every muscle in his shoulders that had tensed in his anger when he picked up the phone instantly turned to jelly. He’d expected resistance, maybe a “fuck you, Goore” or something to that effect. He’d expected an argument, rage, denial or defence.

He waited again, clicking the side button on his phone to turn the volume up in case he’d missed it. Now, he heard the sniffles too, along with the shuddering breath from an inhale that sounded uncontrollable. And then another small, suppressed sob.

He panicked, sitting bolt upright in his seat and pulling the cigarette from his lips as he looked around his surroundings as if there was something, someone who could help. Of course, there was nothing.

He didn’t expect you to react that way... Perhaps he’d been too harsh, maybe yelling at you wasn’t the right way to go about this, to cut his ties with you before they were truly bonded, but he hadn’t even thought it through. Mary just thought severing it with a quick, clean blow would do the trick...

“I-I... d-didn't... know who... to call,” you wept down the phone, breathing irregular as if you were suffering a panic attack. “I’m s-s... sorry.”

Instantly, Mary knew he’d fucked up. You weren’t calling him for a hook up, this was something different. Something had happened. You had already been in this state. And you’d turned to him for help. Mary swallowed a gulp of nothing, now realising his mouth and throat had gone dry whilst his jaw had hung open in bewilderment and panic.

“What’s going on?” he asked, frenzied. He waited for a response, only hearing more sobs; ones that you clearly were unable to hold back as you tried to speak, to tell him what had happened. Whatever it was, it was bad enough that you couldn’t say it without losing the small semblance of composure you had. You were in no fit state to talk about this on the phone.

The hand holding the phone dropped to his lap for a moment as he muttered a “shit” to himself, slamming his head back against the headrest. He was really going to do this, wasn’t he? He was going to run right to you, to go and fucking save you with some twisted sense of duty towards you. But then, yes, of course he was; Mary’s saviour complex had kicked in the second he heard that first tiny, frail sob.

He held the phone to his ear again.

“Look just... fuck, just breathe alright? Slowly, if you can. I’m coming, just make sure your window’s unlocked,” he instructed you, pressing his foot down on the clutch and shoving the gear stick into reverse.

“’m not... home...” you sobbed. Mary paused, confused.

“Well... where are you?” he asked, now more concerned as to what the hell had happened. If someone had laid a fucking finger on you...

“R-Raynor... street...”

Dead centre of town; anything could have happened, anybody could have been around.

“Alone?” he asked, incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of you being alone at this hour in the middle of town.

“M-mhm...” Mary cursed to himself again, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder while he used both hands to spin the wheel of his van, quickly looking in his mirrors to reverse out of his parking spot before he could speed off into the night to come and find you.

“I’m coming, alright? Stay there. Keep your phone close, stay on the line. You keep off the street ‘til you hear me coming, you understand?” His instructions were clear, almost military-like. He needed you to hear him plainly.

“Oh...kay,” you sobbed, trying to quieten your sobs and regain control.

“Keep breathing, I’m on my way.”

Mary picked the phone from between his ear and shoulder and hit the loud-speaker button, throwing it onto his dash so he could drive easier through the streets as he headed into town. Thankfully the roads had been somewhat empty, most traffic lights turning green on the approach and no one to get in his way or flag him down for speeding at this hour. He just needed to get to you, as fast as possible.

Turning onto Raynor street, he slowed right down and got a good look; you were nowhere to be seen. He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that you’d just followed his advice, hiding down an alleyway off the main street to keep out of sight of any passersby with bad intentions. He turned his stereo back up, a clear indication that it was him who was driving slowly down the street, watching and waiting for you to pop your head out of somewhere.

“C’mon, doll... where are you?” he muttered anxiously to himself, looking down every nook and cranny between buildings.

The music you heard edging closer down the street echoed what you could hear from your phone speaker, telling you that the vehicle approaching was him. A wave of relief washed over you, and you stepped out from between a hair salon and an apartment block near the end of the street. Mary's headlights caught on your dress, the sparkle catching his eye immediately and he sped up until he could break suddenly right next to you, jumping out of his van and running around it to get to you as quickly as he could.

His hands gripped onto your biceps and he held you out at arm's reach to get a good look at you; carefully placed make up had streaked from your tears, black rings forming around your eyes where your mascara had run. Your eyes themselves were bloodshot; how long had you been out here like this before you’d called him? You shivered in his hands, the cold of the night getting to you in this dress that left your arms and shoulders exposed, doing nothing to warm you at this late hour. He didn’t even think, shucking himself out of his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders where his body heat had already warmed it.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, cupping your face in his hands and swiping the tear tracks away with his thumbs. You shook your head no, another sob rising in your throat now that he was here. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, his initial reaction to your phone call clearly indicating he was still very much mad at you; not that you could blame him. But it didn’t escape your notice that he had come anyway, and the expression on his face was almost one of terror before his eyes had fallen on you, and softened considerably.

Something in him cared.

“Alright, come on... get in,” he settled a hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you gently and quickly to the passenger side of his van where he opened the door for you, helping you up. You settled into the seat, curling in on yourself and hugging Mary’s jacket closer to you for the warmth the night had stripped from you as he climbed in the driver’s side. He turned the stereo right down, the music now only to fill a silence rather than to alert you to his arrival.

“Is there... somewhere you want me to take you?” he asked, an awkwardness coming over him. He had no idea how to react in this situation, no clue what had happened or why you’d called him of all people when you had an entire security team on your side.

You seemed to think about it for a moment, a fresh wave of tears trickling from your eyes and dripping to your lap when you looked down in an attempt to hide your face.

“I... don’t have anywhere...” you sobbed, your fists tightening around the edges of Mary’s jacket to have something to ground you while your shoulders shook.

Mary watched on helplessly, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to reach over, to pull you into him and hold you so you could let out the much more violent sobs you were so obviously holding back. He was so used to the feistier side of you; your smart mouth, your confidence... It’s what drew him in, what attracted him to you like a moth to a flame. This wasn’t you.

It stirred up a need in him to help, to sacrifice his own discomfort in favour of your comfort. Instantly, he put you first, forgetting any resignations he had about ever seeing you again. That anger he harboured at how out-of-touch he thought you were? It dissipated the second he’d heard the first sob. He’d been triggered like a sleeper cell, instantly needing to patch up whatever wound you’d suffered.

“You don’t wanna go home?” he asked, figuring he already knew the answer. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. When you shook your head violently, he got the confirmation he needed. “Alright, well...” He was going to regret this, wasn’t he? But he’d said it before he could stop himself. “You could stop at my place for a bit.” Yep, he regretted it. “If it’s not too weird, or anything... I mean, I live alone, if you’re worried about my friends being ther-”

“Okay...” you sniffled.

Mary stopped rambling, instead reaching for the cigarette he’d never lit and thrown on his dash with his phone. Once again, he pushed the cigarette lighter in to heat up, adjusting the heating in the van to a warmer temperature too to warm you up.

“Alright um, sure...” He held the cigarette between his lips, shoving the van into gear and continuing down the street. “There’s a carton of cigs in the bag by your feet, if you want one,” he offered – more to fill the silence between you than anything. The quiet stereo could only do so much.

You sniffled and reached down to the bag, fishing through the plastic until you found the carton he’d mentioned and pulling one out for yourself hoping it might help to calm you. With a pop, the lighter signalled it was ready, and Mary held it out to you first as he focussed on the road. You lit it carefully with a small ‘thank you’ and settled back into your seat. The first drag helped settle your nerves, the heating in the van calming the shakes you’d had too, although you weren’t sure if that had been the panic or the cold of the night.

A few streets into the journey back to his place, you couldn’t take the quiet any longer. The awkward air between you felt so stale, icy in comparison to the warmth the van generated. As much as you wanted to relax in his presence – as he up until now had always been able to make you do – you just couldn’t. Not with the elephant in the back of the van, so to speak...

“I’m sorry... for calling,” you mumbled, still too full of shame to be able to look at him directly, only stealing a glance from the corner of your eye. Mary took a long drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash out of the crack he’d opened in his window. He looked between you and the road, as if thinking through his response a few times.

“You don’t have to apologise for that. I’m not one to leave a lady out in the cold...” he shrugged. He certainly wasn’t; literally or metaphorically.

“Thank you for coming, Mary. I didn’t know where to go...” Every time you thought back to the fight with your father, fresh and hot tears would well up in your eyes. It didn’t escape Mary’s notice, and he wanted nothing more than to reach over and squeeze your hand with reassurance. Instead, he settled on trying to lighten the mood a little. Comedy always had been his defence mechanism, after all...

“Dressed like that? I’d have said... Cinderella’s ball?”

You scoffed, the first genuine smile he’d seen from you as you shook your head. “Shut up,” you told him.

“You couldn’t call on the creatures of the forest to come help?” he continued, smirking when he saw your shoulders shaking in silent laughter, elbow propped up on the edge of your window. “Tinkerbell not got any pixie dust left for ya?”

You reached over and playfully slapped his chest, earning you an ‘ouch’ and an act of feigned pain as he recoiled. But you giggled to yourself, the absurdity of it all finally hitting you. Here you were sat in your sparkly peach gown with your satin elbow gloves, high heels and fancy hairdo, cradled by Mary’s leather jacket in a beat-up van that was old enough to still have a damn cigarette lighter in the dash. Perhaps you were Cinderella... Did that make Mary your Prince Charming, or your fairy God mother?

Now he’d heard you giggle – something he always loved hearing out of you – Mary could relax a little. There was still an awkwardness between you both, neither one of you could deny that, but the first layer of ice had been broken. For now, that would be enough. If you wanted to talk to him about what had happened when you got to his, then fine. If not, he figured that was okay too. At least he’d know you were safe and had someone by your side who cared about you; and yes, Mary could admit to himself now that he did care about you...

Just, maybe not to you – not yet. But it wasn’t something he could exactly deny either, when he’d dropped his ‘big plans’ of getting high and demolishing a bag of snacks alone with his guitar the second he’d heard your despair. And all of that in spite of his lingering anger towards you. How quickly he’d flipped that, from wanting nothing to do with you to racing to your rescue.

Mary’s apartment was small, as you’d expected. As you followed him inside, you looked around. The kitchen sat directly to your left cut off by a half wall to corner it in, a couch that looked like it had seen better days backed up against that half wall and pointed at an old television. Mary’s bed was unmade and pushed up against the far-right corner, facing the bathroom that took up as much space as his kitchen did but was the only room closed off. In the way of bedroom furniture, all he had was a small nightstand and a chest of drawers that had been knocked about some...

It seemed cosy, lived in. It wasn’t particularly tidy; a blanket strewn over the tatty couch, vinyls laying on top of his little coffee table and around his record player in the corner of his living space, guitars laying up against the wall here and there, an acoustic on his bed, pots and pans stacked up on the draining board in his kitchen – clean, but not yet put away.

Had Mary known he was having royalty stop by, he might have tidied up a little, but this was how it looked most of the time. He didn’t spend much time at home, especially now that his band were starting to take off a little. But truthfully, he avoided being alone at all costs. He got too much thinking done alone, hence why he had his distraction methods of weed and song-writing.

Mary scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and went to flick on a lamp by the couch. He quickly whipped around the space, picking up the strewn vinyls, straightening up the blankets. “Sorry about the mess,” he set as he jetted past you towards his bed to pick up his guitar and straighten out the blankets and pillows. You stood awkwardly in the entryway, his jacket still hanging off your shoulders as you picked at your gloves.

“No, it’s fine, it’s not that bad,” you told him, noting the few personal belongings Mary had too; most notably the little picture frame on a windowsill by the couch. A strikingly beautiful woman, and a goofy little boy snuggled tightly in her lap. Both were grinning into the camera, the boy’s front teeth missing. You guessed that was Mary, and the woman, his mother.

“Can I get you anything? I don’t know, a drink maybe? Or, uh...” He stood awkwardly, nervously wringing his hands and fiddling with his rings. It was so out of character for him, usually cocky and confident in everything he said or did. In a way, it was quite endearing...

“Maybe some water, if you don’t mind...” You winced at your own request, feeling like you’d already asked for too much tonight.

“Yeah... yeah, sure!” He jumped into action, rushing into the kitchen to fetch a clean glass from the cabinet. “Make yourself at home,” he told you, nodding towards the couch he’d just tidied. You walked towards it, draping his jacket over the arm and sitting on the edge of it, playing with your gloves until he came and sat opposite you, handing you a cold glass of water.

You took it with a thank you, downing a third of the glass once the water hit your tongue – you hadn’t realised just how thirsty the tears and panic had made you.

“So, um... you wanna tell me why you’re dressed like that?” Mary nodded at your dress, getting himself comfortable and ready to listen. You looked down at yourself, feeling utterly ridiculous now. This was your world... glitter, glam, sparkles; and you despised it.

“Fancy dinner at the town hall – pompous twats and vile politicians. Mom picked this out,” you scoffed.

“Huh,” he mused, “I mean, if it helps, you do look pretty...” he shrugged. A warmth rose to your cheeks at his compliment. “The mascara smudges are a nice touch, I think.” You laughed at that, wiping your fingertips along the underneath of your eyes and seeing the black collecting on the white satin. “So... what happened?”

He asked you so gently, and instantly you felt safe. His gaze wasn’t judgemental, just soft. In fact, it had taken you this long to mentally note that Mary wasn’t made up with his usual faded skull paint and fake blood. His face was clean, you could see every detail. You could see every emotive line, every twitch of his expressions and a vulnerability in him that the face paint usually masked. He had a kinder face than people gave him credit for. Suddenly, you got it. He was putting on a mask every day, just like you.

And so, you told him. You told him how you’d felt in that ballroom, looking around and seeing the real scumbags of this town. You told him about Mr. Nelson; what he’d said, what he’d done. Mary’s face hardened at that, an anger and protectiveness washing over him that had his fists balling up tightly. You told him how you’d excused yourself, and how your father had followed you to his office. Throughout, he stayed quiet, letting you speak and listening to everything you said. He’d react every so often, fetched you some tissues when the tears had started again. You told him everything, including how your father had screamed at you to follow his rules to not damage his “legacy”.

“And I told him I didn’t want to do that anymore... I wanted to do my own thing and live for me.”

Mary’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“Shit... What did he say?” he asked, obviously knowing it hadn’t ended well.

“Told me to get out of his office,” the tears came again, your voice raising in pitch as you tried to hold back the sobs, “that this whole town was his office. Threatened me with lawyers if I tried anything. So... I just left.”

“He kicked you out into the street, alone, dressed like that, in the middle of the fucking night?” Mary’s anger was clear, spitting venom between clenched teeth. He couldn’t understand the nerve of your father, how he could be so damn stupid putting you in danger like that. “Fucking arrogant asshole...”

It was clearer to him more now than ever that he’d been so wrong about you...

He shuffled closer to you on the couch, cautiously wrapping an arm around your shoulders to comfort you in some way. Truthfully, he wanted to completely envelope you, to hold you and rock you and let you cry and sob and scream if you needed it. But it wasn’t until you lay your head on his shoulder that he felt okay to do so, finally pulling you into him to wrap his arms around you and let you cry into his chest.

He felt so warm beneath you, his heart rate a little elevated but the thumping kept you grounded as you held onto his shirt, curling into a sparkly little ball in his side. Mary cradled your head to him, stroking your hair and whispering to you about letting go, that you were safe here.

If he was being honest with himself, he knew how shitty he’d been to you. He’d become far too defensive too quickly, unable to see past his own injustices in his world to understand that your world came with them too. There had been signs of your confinement, of the tight leash you were kept on, but he’d wilfully ignored them, striking them off as privilege. Your bedroom alone should have been a giant red flag; how was a grown woman still sleeping in a child’s bedroom?

“I’m sorry, doll...” he told you, muttering into your hair as his lips gently pressed to the top of your head.

“Not on you, Mare. This has been coming for a while...” you sniffled, wiping your tears with your gloves as you snuggled into him a little further, utterly comfortable in his hold.

“No, I mean...” Mary sighed to himself, “I’ve been an asshole. I got too defensive, thought you were just being a brat or something, y’know? I judged you and I shouldn’t have.”

Slowly, you sat upright, turning to look at him as his arms fell to his sides.

“You don’t have to apologise, I get it... I wasn’t exactly good to you either,” you admitted, looking down at his shirt now stained with tears to avoid his eyes. “You were right, I was treating you like I was ashamed of you.”

Mary sat up straight, clasping his hands together as he nodded in understanding. “We’ve all got our shit, doll.” His eyes drifted to the picture on his windowsill, and you couldn’t help but follow his gaze. You saw how he clenched his jaw, fiddling with the rings on his fingers as sadness crept into his eyes.

“Who was she?” The question slipped out before you got the chance to stop yourself. From the way Mary tensed up beside you, you could tell it was a sore spot.

“That’s my mom,” he looked back to you, a sad smile on his face.

“Is she...?”

“Dead? No...” he laughed awkwardly. “But she is in a care facility. That’s just the only photo of us I’ve got.”

You nodded in understanding, not wanting to push the matter. But Mary felt like sharing... You’d been vulnerable with him, shared your shit. Maybe he should share his too, or at least some of it. Maybe you were the only person he could be honest with. You were certainly the only person he’d wanted to get to know him in a long time.

“She was a drinker. It got worse when my dad left, but he was a waste of fucking space anyway. We, uh, didn’t have a lot...” his eyes flickered to the battered old guitar that now leaned against the wall by his bed, “but eventually her liver kind of gave up, so she’s on dialysis for the rest of her life. She needs constant care, but she’s still with us.”

“I’m so sorry... no wonder you thought I was just being a brat,” you laughed awkwardly, feeling a little pathetic now.

“Like I said, we all got our shit. It's not a contest, I just... realised I wanted you to know something real about me.”

Silence descended over you along with the weight of what he’d just admitted. Mary wanted you to know him. He wasn’t running or hiding himself from you. He’d shared something so personal to him, and you felt that it was something not a lot of people might know about him, if any. Something about you made him feel just as safe as a part of him did for you.

You looked at him; really looked at him. There was a sadness in his eyes, something you could notice now that you were sat merely inches apart from him with his mask firmly ripped away and laying in pieces on the floor. Whatever wall he usually put up, he’d let down just for you. You felt close to him, unbelievably so. You felt an urge to protect him, defend him. You felt a pull towards him, undistinguished in its meaning but so strong you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

And as Mary stared back at you, his wounds exposed, he too felt that same pull. Who was he kidding? He’d felt it for a while. How else would he explain being unable to go barely minutes without thinking of you over the last few weeks?

His eyes flicked down to your lips, heart racing and mind spinning out of control. He’d never felt so exposed. He wanted to kiss you, to show you what he felt in that moment, but it scared him. He already had shared so much, feeling just as vulnerable as he had as a child.

In your corner, the silence got heavier with every second that passed. If he was going to kiss you, you would let him. You couldn't think of a better way to show him just how much you cared, how close you felt to him; that you truly wanted him.

Just as you thought he might lean in, he snapped out of his trance, sucking in a breath between his teeth.

“Well, hey... you can stop here tonight. I can find you something to wear, I’m pretty sure I got something in the back,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows, “I can take you from riches to rags!”

He slapped his thighs and stood up from the couch, marching over to the dresser by his bed and rifling through his drawers. You stayed put, thrown off by his sudden escape. From such an emotional, tender moment to him throwing that wall back up, closing up shop... You almost got whiplash from the speed at which he put the brakes on. Disappointment lay heavy in your chest.

He came back over with a folded t-shirt and some plaid pyjama pants you could tie up to keep them on. “There’s clean cloths in the bathroom under the sink if you wanna wash up, towels if you wanna shower,” he handed you the clothes where you sat. “I’ll take the couch, you got the bed and we’ll figure out a plan in the morning.”

“O-okay...” you stammered, standing up with the folded clothes. Frankly, you felt a little dazed from his shift in demeanour, but you could hardly blame him either. Sharing that had to have been harder than you first thought.

You walked past him into the bathroom, locking the door and pulling on the string light to awaken the fluorescent bulb above you. Now catching a glimpse of yourself in his mirrored medicine cabinet, you saw the state of yourself. Make up smeared all over your face, streaks of black running from your eyes to halfway down your neck. They looked bloodshot and tired, staring lifelessly back at you. Your hair had fallen out of place from its fancy updo, and you looked as if you’d been dragged through a cornfield by your ankles.

Deciding against a shower, you settled for wiping the make-up from your face and taking your hair down, attempting to detangle it with the comb you found in the medicine cabinet. You’d found a bottle of cologne in there too, which when you sniffed, smelled exactly like Mary had smelled the night he’d climbed through your bedroom window. You smiled fondly at the memory, noting how the bottle was largely untouched, still having the price tag on it which only confirmed that he’d bought it and worn it just for you.

By the time you were done and changed into the clothes Mary had found you, Mary had made himself a makeshift bed from the blanket he’d previously folded on the couch and one of the pillows from his bed. He was already laying under it, having changed into some old shorts and removed his shirt.

“You can put your dress on the dresser, and I can run out and grab you something to wear tomorrow so you’ve got something other than this to wear,” he called from the couch, sitting up so he could speak directly to you.

“Thank you. I’ll get out of your hair tomorrow, I’m sure my dad just needs to calm down...” you told him. Mary couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, but also, protective. He wasn’t about to send you home to that, and he didn’t want you to feel like a burden on him either.

“Sure, if that’s what you wanna do...” he muttered, his lips straightening into a line as he nodded. “Well... get some rest.”

“Yeah, I will... thank you, Mary,” you told him.

“Don’t sweat it,” he smiled, laying down on the couch and pulling the blanket over his bare shoulders. Without another word, you placed your clothes on the dresser and crawled into his bed, notably cold without him in it. Mary flicked off the lamp by the couch, plunging the apartment into mostly darkness save for the moonlight and the nearest streetlamp shining through his window.

The same window where the picture of him and his mother sat.

He could see it where he lay. In fact, he couldn’t look away. That smile on both of their faces reminded him of a time that was so rare. He could still hear her laughter mixing with his giggles as she’d hugged and tickled him, his grandmother who was long since gone snapping the picture on a whim.

That little boy didn’t have many memories like that to come. He’d grown up far too soon, knowing how desperately his mother needed the help. His childhood was the two of them stuck out at sea, a hole in their boat – and Mary was the only one fishing the water out with a bucket. Eventually, it was bound to go under, so he worked harder, did everything he could to keep them afloat and yet... it wasn’t enough.

The world had got him all wrong. When they thought he was bunking off school, he was working for a dollar an hour. When he’d been caught shoplifting, it was for a gift for his mother’s birthday. When he’d dropped out of school, it was to work every hour God sent to keep them from going hungry. When he finally did go off the rails in his late teens, it was after his mother’s liver failed. This poor, grown-up little boy had no one to look after anymore, and he’d spiralled. He was his only responsibility, but he’d never learned to care for himself – just the people around him. He always had to save them.

Mary wiped the stray tear from his cheek, rolling over to face the back of the couch and will himself to sleep. He couldn’t tell if it was an hour or mere minutes that passed as he lay there, huddled under his old blanket on a couch that poked at his ribs under the cushions.

“Mary...?” you whispered into the night, testing and hoping that he’d still been awake enough to hear. When he looked up, he saw you sat up in his bed, surrounded by emptiness, hugging your knees to your chest. In the dim streetlight, tear tracks sparkled on your face just like your dress.

Before he knew what he was doing, his feet had carried him across the room. Tentatively, he sat at the edge of his bed, close enough that he could reach out and tuck your fallen hair behind your ear. Neither of you spoke; there was no need. It was obvious you needed the proximity, both vulnerable and in need of comfort.

Mary’s eyes flicked between yours and your lips again, hesitating as his mind raced with conflicting arguments for and against giving in. He still wasn’t sure you truly wanted him. Maybe all you wanted in him was a friend, the sex having been a distraction or way to rebel. All Mary knew for sure was that you’d trusted him enough to be the one you called when you were in trouble. He didn’t want to break that trust now...

But it was like you could see the cogs turning in his brain, the inner argument going on inside him. The battle wouldn’t be won by him alone; you were going to have to prove to him that you wanted him, that he wasn’t just your dirty little secret or some booty call.

Slowly, you shuffled yourself closer to him, unwrapping your arms from around yourself and instead, pushing his floppy hair from in front of his face, getting a good look at him. That gorgeous face of his sat bathed in the dim light, caught between distant sadness and childlike wonder. With one last flicker down to your lips and back up to your eyes, he caught you smiling softly at him, your fingertips dancing across his jawline.

And then finally, you leaned into him and pressed your lips gently to his. His eyes fluttered shut just as yours did, and he relaxed under your touch as if his limbs had melted. Mary, now feeling marginally more confident in where he stood, tilted his head to better sculpt his lips against yours. He was so gentle with you, his hands lifting to hold yours against his cheeks by the wrists. As the seconds passed, your lips moved together in tandem, both of you leaning into each other until he was able to wrap a hand around your waist and hold you against him, cradling each other in such a tender moment.

This was undeniably different to any other kiss you’d shared. There was no move to advance, no desperation, no frantic arousal or rushed passion. This time, you simply held each other, seeking comfort in the affection you had for each other.

As you parted, you rested your forehead against his, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he held you still so close to him, not yet willing to let go.

“Stay with me tonight...?” you requested, hoping he’d have no problem with the idea. Mary just nodded dumbly, overcome with a warm desire to never let you sleep alone again. You reached around you, pulling the blankets off of your lap to welcome him into them. He climbed in beside you, resting his head on the pillows as you, without a second thought, curled into his chest and let his arms envelope you. Neither one of you wanted to be alone tonight after sharing pieces of your soul with one another.

Exhausted from the outpouring of emotion, you were soon lulled into a deep sleep by his rhythmic heartbeat and natural warmth. Mary, although exhausted himself, was still barely awake when he felt your body go limp against him. He smiled to himself, satisfied in the knowledge that he’d given up a part of himself he was sure he’d never trust anybody with.

And yet, the wound was still open; spinning with memories, his mind lingered on one in particular, triggered when his tired eyes had fallen on that battered and beat up old guitar against the wall. That thing served as a reminder that Mary had only ever had Mary looking out for him, and that given a choice between himself and somebody else, he would always save anybody but himself...

Mary waited patiently on the couch, his attention span null and void as the after-school cartoons blared on the TV set in front of him. He sat on the edge of his seat, quite literally, his feet kicking back and forth as he watched the clock.

With the big hand on the 2, and the little hand on the 6, she’d be home any minute now. So, Mary waited as patiently as he could.

Except, it wasn’t until the big hand had done a full circle, and the little hand was on the 7, that he heard the keys fumbling in the lock of the front door, followed by a telltale creak, and the slam of it behind footsteps.

Mary jumped up, already on edge and over-excited. He ran into the hallway, to find his mother leaning against the wall with her eyes shut, head back against the plaster. She looked sick, her skin paled more than usual and her lips tainted with a familiar red stain.

“Ma?” he asked, placing his little hand on her arm. Her eyes shot open, and she looked down at Mary next to her.

“There’s my boy!” she slurred, leaning down to smother a sloppy kiss to his cheek. He wiped his cheek in childlike disgust, giggling to himself. “Happy birthday, baby!”

She stood as upright as she could manage, bringing her purse with her while she stumbled into the living room, into the armchair Mary’s dad used to occupy that faced the TV set. Mary followed, bouncing on his feet with excitement. He’d waited all day for his mom to come home, hadn’t been able to focus in school for even a second. He stood and waited in front of her as she settled into the chair, dropping her purse in her lap.

“Would you like your present baby?” she asked, smiling through hooded eyes that could barely focus. Mary nodded frantically, his heart pounding in his chest.

It had been weeks since he’d spoken to his mother about the guitar he so desperately wanted. He’d spent most of his weekends at Mr. Rogers’ workshop, sweeping up wood shavings and running errands for a little bit of pocket money to help his mother save for this exact moment. He couldn’t wait any longer...

His mother giggled, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small, square-shaped gift wrapped in balloon wrapping paper.

For a moment, Mary was confused... But this had to be just a decoy. He remembered seeing these CDs in the music store; ‘Guitar Basics for Beginners’, audio instructive lessons that would be far cheaper than real in-person lessons.

He tore into the paper, throwing the trash to the side and flipped the CD around to look at the front. It was an album; State of Euphoria by Anthrax. Mary’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, surprised to find it wasn’t what he’d thought.

“That’s the band you like, right? Or... One of them,” his mother hiccupped, leaning on her elbows with a grin.

“Y-yeah... thanks, ma.” His tone was unmistakably disappointed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, swiping her thumb across his cheek and pinching it lightly. Mary chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should say anything. He wasn’t one to be ungrateful, this was still a pretty great gift. Anthrax were one of the bands he had found he really loved recently.

“No it’s great, ma, really. Thank you... It’s just,” he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “could I get my guitar now? I read this book that teaches you about the frets and the notes of the strings, and stuff!” His words were rushed in that way over-excited children speed up the longer their sentence becomes.

If his mother’s skin could pale any more, it did then.

“Well, I... I couldn’t get the guitar, baby,” she told him, trying to let him down gently.

“But... I helped Mr. Rogers? I thought we had enough?” he asked, his cheeks heating as if he were about to cry, but he didn’t want to make his mother feel bad by letting them spill.

“I-I’m sorry, Mary... I needed to use that money...” she shrank back within herself, shame and guilt weighing on her shoulders.

“For what?” he asked, genuinely confused, his tears building in his eyes. He was devastated... He worked so hard to get the guitar, to prove his mind was made up and he wouldn’t give up on learning it. But his mother just stared at him, her lip trembling as she saw her little boy so heartbroken.

She knew exactly what she had spent it on; the very thing she promised she’d try and give up.

“I... I’m s-sorry, b-baby,” she sobbed, tears spilling down her pale cheeks and her chest tightening around her breaths. She broke down, sobbing into her hands and hiding her face from the son she’d just disappointed so tragically.

Mary wanted to be angry. It wasn’t fair... It was him who worked for that money, him who had tried so hard to help her. She was supposed to be the one adult he could count on, they were a team, weren’t they? He never asked for anything, ever. But just once, he wanted this. But she’d put her wine and God only knows what other alcohol before him again.

He wanted to be angry. He tried to be. But his mother was hurting, she was crying, sobbing in front of him. She needed help. She was broken. She hadn’t meant to do this... right?

Of course not. Her alcoholism had just gotten out of control, and unfortunately, addiction is a lonely and selfish ailment. Sober, her mind wouldn’t even think of doing something so selfish. But these days, she was rarely sober.

Mary looked at his mother, crumpled up and sickly looking, weeping into her palms, and he just wanted to save her. He always wanted to save her.

“Ma, it’s okay...” he told her, trying too hard for an 11-year-old not to cry. “Ma, don’t cry... I can keep working for one, it’s okay. I like the CD, I really do.” he squished himself between her and the arm of the chair, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling into her. She was inconsolable, sobbing so loudly she drowned out the cartoons on the TV set. She’d lost control of herself, and Mary was the only one around to pick up the pieces.

“Shh, ma, it’s okay. It’ll be okay!” he told her, squeezing her as tightly as he could. “I’m here, don’t cry.”

She’d screwed up big time, and whether Mary had chosen to forgive her or not, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for this. If she wasn’t already buried up to the neck in a pit of self-loathing, this was the last shovel full of cement to trap her in.

But Mary had already decided that he’d do what he could to dig her out. She was his mother, she did everything for him that she could... why wouldn’t he help her too?

A guitar could wait a little while longer. For now, his mother needed him – and he’d work as hard as he needed to save her.

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roses-r-rosie3 · 2 years ago

Text

Dancing With Your Ghost: Unexpected Reunion

Miguel O’Hara x M!Reader

[Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

(Btw credits to whoever drew that spider-man character)

Warnings: angst, spoilers for SpiderMan: Across the Spider-verse, and memory loss-ish

Summary: Miguel was in love with his version of y/n from his universe but that y/n dies bc that’s his cannon, and he meets an alternate version of y/n who is the Spider-Man of his universe, but isn’t in love with Miguel

Quote: “I'm sorry, but you're not ringing any bells"

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Miguel is what some people what call “cold hearted” but he wasn’t always like this. He was happy once. He was in love with y/n l/n. He loved y/n so much. But because he was a Spider-Man, y/n died. He died when that universes’s goblin blew up a building, while y/n was inside of it. It hurts Miguel to think about it. The way he held y/n in his arms while he begged for y/n to stay with him. But Miguel couldn’t undo the inevitable, and y/n died in his arms while he cried for hours.

"Miguel" Jess said, snapping Miguel out of his thoughts.

"Are you okay?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah, just a little tired, what did you want to talk to me about?" Miguel said.

"I found a case where an alternate version of the goblin from another universe got transported to another universe, and is now having a tantrum"

Miguel's blood ran cold at the mention of 'The goblin', the bastard took one of the only people making him happy away from him.

"I know you have some issues with the goblin, but you need to remember that he isn't our goblin-"

"Yeah, whatever let's go" Miguel said, completely ignoring what Jess had to say.

skip to when Miguel is fighting the goblin b/c i'm lazy af

Miguel spent what felt like hours trying to land a single punch on the goblin, each attempt getting him more riled up. All of a sudden another spider-man swooped in and kicked the goblin in the face dead-on.

"I'll take it from here" The masked hero said cockily.

That voice... it sounded familiar, but Miguel couldn't quite put his finger on it. But Miguel had no time to play the guessing game, so he immediately swung over to help fight the goblin.

When Miguel finally caught up to the other spider-man, the goblin had already been defeated.

"How-"

"it's easy when you're as good as me" said the cocky super-hero, as he cut off Miguel.

"Oh great another narcissistic one" Miguel said as he rolled his eye under his mask.

"I wouldn't call it narcissistic, more like- wait- what do you mean another- oh whatever, who are you and what are you doing here" said that universe's spider-man.

skip to Miguel explaining the whole spider organization

"Does you telling me this mean that I'm apart of this organization now, or are you gonna pull a 'men in black' and erase this from my memory?"

"Yes, you can join" Miguel said in annoyance as he opened the portal.

"Holy shit, very cool.." The masked hero said before walking inside of it.

"Hey, scary boss guy, can i take off my mask, that portal thing is making me feel sick" said the hero.

"Yes" Miguel said as he turned to see what the cocky hero looked like under his mask.

When the spider-man unmasked himself, he was revealed to be y/n.

Miguel couldn't speak, his once dead lover was in front of him.

"Oh I didn't tell you my name did I? My name's-"

"Y/n" Miguel cut him off.

"How did you-"

Y/n was cut off by Miguel hugging the life out of him.

"I missed you so much" Miguel croaked.

"Woah, woah dude I don't even know you" y/n said pulling Miguel away.

Miguel took off his mask, hoping that universe's y/n would notice him.

"I'm sorry, but you're not ringing any bells" y/n said.

"Y/n please, we have to at least been acquainted in your universe" Miguel said with tears in his eyes.

"Uh- you're starting to creep me out" y/n said

"Oh, uh, sorry about him, you just look like someone he used to know" Jess interrupted

"Okay then..." y/n said as he walked past them to explore the place.

"Listen Miguel, I know you loved y/n and he loved you, but that's a different y/n, I don't want to sound harsh, but he probably didn't know you until now, okay? Just know that our y/n loved you." Jess said as the other y/n was out of eye-sight.

Miguel just broke down. The fact that, that y/n will probably never love him like his y/n, He felt like he was re-living the grief he felt when y/n died in his arms.

#male x male #mlm #malexmale #male reader #mxm #gay #spider man across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x male reader #swearing #angst #Spotify

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urrockstar-xe · 11 months ago

Text

forgotten valentines - p.parker x gn!reader

posted feb 1st, 2024 8:14 am.

heres the first day of my countdown to valentines day! whether ur single or just love these silly characters, i hope u enjoy :)

summary: upon the couple stumbling home from working late, reader and peter both realize they've forgotten all about the heart shaped holiday. Not proofread, may have use of Y/n.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.5k

It was nearing 10 pm when you finally made it home, wanting nothing more than to sit down and use your boyfriend as a human-weighted blanket, but just as you opened the front door you heard shuffling down the hall of your apartment complex, turning to look who was coming and seeing the boyfriend in question, Peter sighed heavily once you both made eye contact, earning a chuckle from you as you entered your apartment, Peter following not too far behind.

“That wasn’t planned?” you joked quietly, turning on a few lights so it didn’t feel so late that you’d have to whisper. Peter’s quiet laugh filled your ears as he headed for the fridge, opening it up with a sluggish movement. “No, fate just keeps on tugging us towards each other” He teased back, pulling out two sodas before shutting the door with his elbow.

You pulled off your coat, abandoning it by the door and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Peter soon joined you after taking off his own coat and shoes, he handed you one of the cans, already opened. You leaned into Peter’s side, causing him to throw his arm around your shoulders happily. The clock read 10:12 PM as you flipped through the channels trying to find something to watch.

“There is a lot of 50 Shades of Grey going on,” Peter said upon realizing how many channels had the 50 Shades movies playing along with every other channel playing romcoms and old romantic dramas. “Yeah, what’s this all about?” you wondered out loud, then the realization hit.

“Oh my god, Peter it’s Valentine's Day!” You sat up, looking at Peter with wide eyes as he checked his phone and his jaw fell, matching your expression now as the date confirmed it.

“I didn’t even realize it was February” Peter whispered, thinking out loud as you stood up, his eyes following your movements. “Okay, well, we’ve got 2 hours left,” You said, watching him nod in response.

“It’s too late to grab flowers and chocolate” Peter’s voice was laced with a guilty tone as he spoke, remorse-filled puppy eyes staring up at you. You smiled down at him, hands coming to rest on either side of his face, “That’s okay, it’ll all be on sale by tomorrow morning” Your reassurance and soft touch brought a smile to Peter’s face, “besides, you’re here and not out there” you motioned towards the window, exposing the city of queens who didn’t get the privilege of Spider-man tonight.

Because you did.

“Will you be my valentine?” Peter asked with a goofy grin on his face, that only grew when you laughed, giving him the exact reaction he had wanted. You nodded, “I’d be happy to be your Valentine, Peter” He smiled at you in return, standing up and causing you both to be nearly chest to chest with the action.

“C’mon, then, we’ve got a date to prepare for” Peter whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead before leaving the soft moment, walking back to the kitchen. You smiled, abandoning the two barely touched soda cans as you switched off the TV and went to look for a Vinyl to play on your old record player.

Neither of you had the sharpest memory but that never stopped you from being a damn good team, and times like these always did so well at reminding you both of this sweet fact.

The soft and not-too-loud music filled your small apartment once you finally made your decision. You made your way into the small kitchen as Peter rustled around the pantry looking for something to cook, “we could do pasta!” he exclaimed, too excited about finding something to make, before closing the pantry door and setting the bowtie noodles on the counter, turning to look for ingredients for the sauce. “What kind are we making?” you asked with an amused look on your face, hopping up onto the counter as you watched Peter move around the room.

“Whichever kind we have the ingredients for,” Peter said, laughing with you as you slid off the counter despite having just barely sat down. “I’ll boil the noodles” Peter hummed in acknowledgment of your announcement, the sound of him clumsily moving behind you filled your ears and blended perfectly with the music, this was perfect.

“Spaghetti it is!” Peter mumbled to himself before turning around, standing directly behind you as he went to turn on the burner beside the one you were using to boil water. You couldn’t have missed his hand resting on your side if you tried, even if he didn’t squeeze lightly every few seconds. Peter stood there longer than he needed, watching the flame on the left burner while you poured noodles into the pot on the right burner.

“Just makin’ sure you’re doin’ it right, doll,” Peter explained with a small smirk on his face as if he was reading your thoughts. You scoffed, smiling, “Why don’t you start the sauce so we can have dinner before midnight, yeah?” You asked in a similar teasing tone, not even attempting to hide your heart eyes as you glanced at him. Peter laughed in response, nodding and turning to continue his job for dinner, leaving the spot where his hand sat on your side feeling cold and empty despite your hoodie covering it.

You both stood wordlessly as you worked, eventually stopping the right burner and allowing Peter to help you drain the water with a strainer before mixing the noodles in with the sauce, “10:57, I think we’re doin’ pretty good on time, what do you think?” Peter smiled at you as you pulled out two bowls, “I think you’re gonna burn our only food option if you don’t turn off the stove” you teased, before smiling back. “We just make a good team” Your second response was more genuine, earning a nod as Peter looked away to turn off the left burner, his smile softening. “Yeah, a great team.”

Together you both set up the table, giggling when Peter ran off to get the candle before setting it down in the middle. “There’s just something missing,” Peter mumbled, watching you sit down at the small table just enough for two people, which is all you needed.

“I’ll be right back” Before you could argue Peter had run off again, this time to your shared bedroom before stumbling out a few moments later tugging on his suit. “Peter, what are you-” “Don’t start eating yet!” he pointed at you, pulling on his mask with one hand, ignoring the sound of your laughter as he struggled. You watched with an amused expression as he left out the window, the clock now reading 11:09, it’s still early enough to wait so you took it upon yourself to get up and light the candle, along with getting out anything you had to make the rocky road ice cream in the freezer more fun and setting it on the counter.

The sound of the window closing caught your attention, “Look! Ice cream bar!” You said, smiling proudly at your presentation before turning back to your boyfriend just as he pulled off the mask, out of breath and a proud smile settled on his lips too.

“Look!” he imitated your tone, pulling flowers from behind his back, a little droopy and absolutely taken from your upstairs neighbor, Mrs. Baker’s windowsill, but still perfect. “Flowers!” he finished, both of you laughing before you pulled out a mason jar, filling it with water, and setting it beside the candle. Peter put the 4 dainty white daisies in, smiling at you as he pulled your chair out for you.

“I love the ice cream bar,” He praised your work, sitting across from you while immediately reaching for your hand, and you happily gave it to him. “I love the flowers,” You responded, honey dripping off the words with how sweet you spoke, blissfully happy in this moment.

“This is perfect! Who needs plans for Valentine’s Day when we’re as great as we are!” Peter said, almost moaning as he finally took a bite of his food. You laughed at his reaction before trying your own. “Last minute dates are our thing, so.” You teased, earning an unserious glare from your guilty boyfriend.

“I love them though” You reassured, squeezing his hand.

Peter squeezed back and leaned forward as if to tell you a secret as he softly spoke, “I love you” His gaze was as loving as ever and it was all yours, it was as if he was telling you with his eyes that it always would be.

“I love you more”

“Impossible”

His immediate response was too cute to argue no matter how badly you wanted to, but instead, you leaned forward just enough to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Peter sighed at the sweetness of it all, closing his eyes and shaking his head as you sat back down.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart”

#tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #the amazing spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #tasm x reader #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #Spotify

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spider-man-199999 · 2 years ago

Text

Pacifier

pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader;

word count: 5K

warnings: drinking; mentions of sex ; Peter is younger than the reader, but still 18. Reader is around 20. Peter is trying to pin reader even though he is younger.

summary: In this one you’re hired as Morgan’s babysitter (and low-key underpaid Stark!assistant). Looking after a little girl isn’t too hard, but looking after her “big bother” as well, definitely is.

an: I might make a part 2; I had so much fun writing this!

part2!

A loud crash from outside the room interrupted the story you were reading to Morgan. She didn't seem bothered, probably used to this type of sounds around the Stark tower, but you definitely weren't. Afternoon naps weren't her favourite and she was almost asleep when someone decided to be so loud outside and interrupt. You sighed and got up.

"I'll be back in a second." you told the little girl as you paced towards the door.

The crashing sounds were becoming more frequent, like someone was hitting walls, falling over on the floor, knocking things out. You didn't really know what to expect on the other side.

"Hey, asshole, I'm trying to put Morgan to sleep here." you said as you opened.

You saw a figure fall over on the floor and start rolling immediately after that. A red and blue suit. There was something on his face, it looked like an octopus but not quite and it seemed like it was trying to eat his head. You were relatively new to all of this Avengers thing, you were hired a while ago but Tony kept you at a distance, however, you definitely knew an alien when you saw one.

"Actually, nevermind." you corrected yourself and walked back in Morgan's room, closing the door shut.

That's how you met Spider-man.

"I could really use a hand here!" he said between pants and grunts, fighting the thing.

You pressed your forehead against the door, thinking about it for a second. Morgan was fast asleep the second you walked away from her, which made the situation a little easier.

"I don't get paid enough for this shit." you whispered to yourself and opened the door again, walking out into the hallway.

You looked around, trying to find something that would be useful. Spider-man was still rolling around on the floor, pulling at that thing that was making weird squeaky sounds and spreading something like saliva everywhere. The closest thing to a weapon there was a vase with the length of your forearm that got knocked over in the process. You grabbed it and walked over to the rolling man on the floor.

"Stay still." you told him.

He lay on his back, still pulling the thing away from his head as you slammed the vase into it, breaking it. The alien squealed in pain and for a second stopped trying to bite off Spider-man's head. He took advantage of that and threw it to the foor, shooting a web over it after that. He finally relaxed as the fight for his life was over, looking over at you.

"Thanks." he muttered

"Yeah um, no problem I guess?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, can you run to the lab, I forgot a black file folder there and I need it for my meeting that's in like 5 minutes." Tony said while checking his watch.

You were playing with Morgan and her dolls in the living room when he walked in. He seemed in a hurry, fixing his tie. You looked around the room after he spoke, it was just the three of you.

"Me?"

"No, Morgan. Of course it's you, I'll play with her while you're gone. And skim over the papers, there should be 10 pages inside. You have 3 minutes."

You got up and moved as quickly as you could. On most days you were losing the idea of the whole babysitting thing. Often Tony would make you do things like you were his assistant, schedule meetings, arrange travels, send you off buying things. You didn't mind doing that, especially since he was paying you and you got to live rent free in the Stark tower with his family. You were free to attend your university classes, that was part of your contract, but besides that you didn't get any other off hours. A contract that Tony made you rewrite yourself after you got accepted into ESU to fit both of your needs legally. You couldn't really complain though. The job came with more perks than anyone could ever want. Plus, you got to know all of the Avengers and people that talked to you in class were always excited to talk to you because of that.

You read through the pages in the folder on your way back to the living room. All 10 of them were there and they were about some new materials and research for the Spider-man suit Tony had been making.

Oh, Spider-man.

After your first encounter with him, things got kind of awkward whenever he came by. He was a nice kid, a little nerdy, but would never pass up an opportunity to flirt with you. It's not like you hated the attention but your life was already too busy to think about boys.

"Heyyyyyy" you heard when you walked into the living room, looking up to see Peter smile. He was blushing while he looked at you.

You closed the folder and handed it to Tony while you held the awkwards eye contact with the younger boy.

"You should review the third page, it's not clarified where the electrum that you're using came from. If it's a naturally occurring alloy or a man-made one. The origin may not be important when you're actually using it, but for the lawyers it is."

"Oh, right, thanks kid." Tony said, taking out a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket so he could write down the missing information.

You walked over to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a bottle of water. Peter tailed after you like a puppy.

"Can you pass me a bottle as well?"

You grabbed one and tossed it in his direction. The two of you took a sip at the same time.

"So how was school?" you asked him

"Fine, the usual. We had a quiz in physics, I think I did well. How was uni?"

You shrugged at his question, looking over at Morgan. You could see her sitting on the floor and watching something on the TV through the door. Pepper was about to be home any minute now, which meant you were off duty for the night.

"Shouldn't you be joining the meeting?"

"No, mr Stark thinks the only thing I'll be good at is distract people there."

"He has a point."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I had to skip this week. Tony flew over to Germany with Pepper, I had to run things around here."

"There goes being a responsible student."

You rolled your eyes at him. University classes were nothing like school, you could afford missing them as long as you could catch up on the material on your own after that. Peter was so actively trying to close the gap between the two of you that it was getting annoying.

"It's fine, next week The Vacation starts. I'll be free for 14 whole days to knock myself out with classes."

"The vacation?" Peter asked, following your steps when you went down the hall, headed to your room.

The Vacation was a tradition that you imposed on the Stark family as "a good habit to establish closeness between them and trust in you". It was an event that occurred for an entirety of two weeks every year since you started working for them. It was the second time they were going to do it and you were more than thrilled that your plan worked. The whole point of it was to bring the family closer together. You would pick the destination, make reservations in a very expensive hotel on a far off island and send all of the Starks there to bond. There were few rules, mostly ideas that you collectively brainstormed. They were not allowed to use phones, the only exceptions that could be made were if 1) the world was ending; 2) aliens were invading earth; 3) someone died. And in those cases, you had to call the hotel and make the staff inform Tony. The only downside was that you didn't get to go. But that wasn't all bad, you had 2 weeks to go to all the college parties your heart desired and do all the things you usually didn't have time to.

"Yeah, we get two weeks off."

"We?"

"The Starks, I meant. They are the ones who get to go on a trip and relax for 14 days while we keep things running around here."

"Does not sound like something Mr. Stark would do."

"You're right, he hated it at first but after he came back it was... He was very different."

The two of you had reached your bedroom at that point, standing in front of the door.

"So you'll be gone for two weeks?"

"Unfortunately, no, but I already have plans."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Wait what do you mean he's staying here?" you asked, looking around the table.

Tony said he wanted a big dinner before they left for Santorini, and that somehow translated to your regular once a month "family" dinners with Peter. You looked over at the flustered boy, throwing mental daggers at him while Tony spoke.

"I took a chance last year, but no I don't really like the idea of you being alone here for an entire two weeks."

"Is this because I did something to lose your trust or do you just think I'm defenseless?"

"I don't think you're ENTIRELY defenseless. But it does feel more comfortable to have someone with, say, super strength around, just in case."

"In case of what? Me wanting to rearrange the entire house? Just a reminder that if I didn't help him three months ago, his head would be in some octopus' belly right now."

"You're exaggerating that!" Peter whined, embarrassed by the reference.

"Look, kid, I know you well enough to understand how irritating this must be for you, and a year ago I probably didn't care enough if you died while we were gone-"

"TONY!" Pepper tried to cut him off.

"-but as I was about to say, now I do. That's my decision and it's final."

You really wanted to continue the argument, to try and persuade him into changing his mind. But you didn't. His words touched you and you could really see where he was coming from. But Peter... out of all the Avengers out there, all of the 8 thousand mutants in New York, he had to choose Spider-man.

"I promise you won't even know I'm here!" Peter said, in a desperate attempt to appease you.

"Peter, it's alright."

Your reaction had taken everyone a back, they expected you to fight back more fiercely than this.

"What?" you asked when you noticed everyone's stare. "Did you really expect me to throw a tantrum over this? Wow, maybe I should come with you after all, apparently you people don't know me at all."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The first couple of days were actually going according to your plans. You wanted to go to some parties and you were doing just that. You stumbled out of the elevator, giggling to yourself. A spider web shot your hand to the wall. Normal you would immediately start asking what the fuck was happening, but drunk you just looked at the web and started laughing her ass off.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry!" Peter ran towards you, pulling at the web on your hand. You kept on laughing. He actually thought you were someone who was trying to break in.

"I'm lucky you shoot webs and not bullets!"

"Well, webs aren't the only thing I can shoot." he muttered under his breath.

"Ew, Pete, nasty." you giggled, placing your hands on his shoulders. "I'm so glad you have super-strength. I can't walk."

"What?"

"Take me to my bedroom, please." you laughed, your knees feeling wobbly because of the alcohol. He felt you start to relax and wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you tightly.

"Damn, so Mr. Stark was right, you needed someone around to take care of you." He said, a blushing mess while he picked you up like a bride and started walking towards your room. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your head rested on his shoulder.

"Pffff, no, I'm the caretaker!! I'm taking care of you too right now!" you protested.

"Sure you are." he laughed, loving that side of you. He wished your normal conversations could be this effortless and fun. Peter hated the front you were always putting on in front of everybody, especially him. He opened the door to your room, walking in and placing you down on the bed. He looked at you laying on the bed, wondering if he should take advantage of your bubbliness or not.

Your hands moved down to your jeans, you were drunk, but there was no way in hell you were going to sleep in your clothes. You undid them and started pulling them down your legs.

"Wow, wow, wow, though we were at least going on a date before this." you heard Peter say, noticing him in the room just now.

You gasped in shock, starting to laugh after that. He turned his back not to look while you undressed, wondering if he should just leave or not.

"Hey, I was meaning to ask..."

"Shhhhh, you talk way more than you usually do in my dreams, I'm trying to sleep."

"In your dreams?" he asked, turning his head so fast he almost snapped his neck. You were laying down in your underwear, back turned to him.

"Yeah, like now, you're almost always in my dreams, but we never talk."

"What do we do then?"

You rolled over on your back, head turning towards him to look in his eyes. Even in the pitch darkness he could feel your eyes burning the skin on his face and it made him blush even more.

"You know what we do, you're always there!" you said, annoyance in your tone.

That's when he knew he had to draw the line and walk out of the room, it felt wrong to take advantage of your state and he knew you would kill him the next day if you remembered anything.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter Parker was a lucky bastard. Not only did he get to be alone in the same house as his crush for two whole weeks, but somehow he even managed to convince her to go to Flash's party with him. Yes, you were very displeased with that fact, tried everything in your power to convince him it was a bad idea but he didn't listen.

"How is this not embarrassing for the both of us?" you asked on the way there.

"Why would it be embarrassing?"

"For starters, you're going to a party with your babysitter. And I'm a college student attending a highschool party... What's next? You blackmail me into being your date to prom?"

"You're not my babysitter, I'm yours."

"No you're not."

"How am I not? Mr. Stark made me stay over in his house so you wouldn't be alone! I'm the babysitter!"

"Peter you're like 15, you can't be the babysitter when you're the actual baby!"

"I'm 18."

"Wait you are? Why am I driving then?"

Despite the hard time you were giving him almost the entire time, he convinced you. And now he got to watch you while you chatted with his best friend, holding a cup of punch.

"How do you even know a girl like that, Penis Parker?" Flash asked him, both of them standing side by side while observing you.

"Well, you know, the Stark internship and all."

"Honestly, I thought she was imaginary. She's not a paid actress, right?"

"Yeah, well no, if I paid her she'd have to be nice to me."

You glanced over to the two of them, smiling lightly when you caught them staring. You've been getting stares the whole night, and it really did feel like you were back in high school. The two boys got flustered when you caught them, turning their heads in opposite directions. You shook your head.

"It was lovely talking to you, Ned. But I have a fanclub to tend to, see you around." you said, placing your hand on Ned's shoulder as a goodbye gesture and walked off to Peter and Flash.

"Ah, if it isn't my favourite senior!" you said with a giggle, standing next to Peter. The alcohol seemed to be kicking in because you were unexpectedly nice to him.

"I'm Flash, the host." Flash said and reached out a hand to you.

You looked at him. You didn't know too much about Flash, only that he didn't like Peter and was giving him a hard time. That was one of the reasons why you agreed to this, to help the poor boy out, stop the bullying for a little while. You blinked a few times, not taking his hand.

"Y\n." you said simply, turning to Peter again. You placed your free hand on his shoulder, scooting over to him so you could get on your tip-toes and whisper into his ear. "So that's the mighty Flash guy? Looks like a loser to me."

Peter laughed softly at your words, placing a hand on your waist to help you keep your balance.

"So, how do you like the party guys?" Flash tried to bounce back.

The two of you looked at him. He stared back at you, noticing Peter's hand on your waist that you didn't seem to mind at all. Flash was really feeling like the loser tonight. The guy he constantly bullied came to his party with a college girl. And not just any college girl, one that worked for Stark Industries, and was drop-dead gorgeous on top of it all. And she had Peter Parker's arm wrapped around her.

"For a high school party... it's okay." you said, resting your head on Peter's shoulder.

"Well I throw the best parties! Peter wouldn't know, he's rarely invited."

"Peter's seen way better parties than this one, I take him to the ones we throw on campus all the time, right Pete?" You lied. You were lying to defend Peter and make him look cooler.

He nodded to your words. You could practically see Flash's face turn red as he was showed up, once again.

"Whatever." He muttered and walked away.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The more time you spent with Peter, the harder it got to dislike him. It's not like you really disliked him to begin with, but it annoyed you how absurdly confident he was in the Spider-man suit. He tried flirting as Peter Parker as well, sure, but nothing could compare to Spider-man. And for some reason you hated the fact that he was younger than you. There was nothing morally wrong with liking him, he was 18 and you were just two years older, in perspective this would not matter at all once he got in college, which was about to happen in a few months anyway. Something about the thought of having a high school boyfriend while you were halfway done with your degree really made you cringe.

But you had to give him credit for trying so hard. The boy just wouldn't give up, no matter how brutal you were every time he tried something. This whole internal conflict of yours was tearing you apart, and it got worse since he moved in for the two weeks.

"Okay listen." you started as you parked your car in the campus parking lot. "Do not go disappearing on me. And don't drink, not even a sip, you're too young for that. If the police come, run."

"And I thought you were going to have a positive influence on me."

"We're doing this because of you, remember? You were the one who wanted to make Flash shut up by posting a picture from an actual frat party."

"You were the one who lied about that."

"Well, I'm sorry that I was trying to help."

You got out of the car and locked it after Peter followed. You knew in your heart that this was a very, very bad idea. You were just praying that you wouldn't get drunk enough to do something you'd regret and that he wouldn't get drunk at all. Someone had to drive the two of you back home and it definitely wasn't going to be you. You handed him the car keys before you started walking to the frat house. He put them in his jean pocket, following you like he usually did. Frat parties were nothing like the one Flash threw a few days ago, things here always got out of control. People were taking body shots, smoking, using drugs, making out. The whole "please don't break anything, it's my parents' house" vibe was not there. You knew it, Peter definitely knew it as well.

"Let's get the pictures and be done with this." you told him over the loud music.

He nodded, unsure if he actually wanted to stay or leave. He was not a party guy, but he didn't completely hate the experience. You grabbed yourself a drink, greeting a few people you knew from classes.

"I cannot believe this!" Someone shouted behind you, making you and Peter both turn in sync. It was Lidia, a girl you had a group project with a few weeks back. You texted here and there but you could never make it to places she invited you.

"Oh hey" you said, hugging the strawberry blonde and smiling.

"How did you manage to get out of that corporate job you have? And who is this eye candy?" you smiled at Peter, offering her hand to introduce herself.

"That's Peter Parker, he's my...." you stopped, looking over at him. You started the sentence with the wrong words but it was too late to switch it up.

"Boyfriend." He just had to jump at the opportunity, didn't he?

"He definitely wishes he was." you snapped back at him, looking over at Lidia again. "He's an intern."

"Come on babe, you don't have to be shy about it."

He was pushing his limits here and enjoying it, smiling at how embarrassed and flustered you'd get trying to deny it. It really made it seem like you were just uncomfortable labeling something you really did have with him and he was taking initiative.

"Such a shame, if I had locked up a snack like that I would be bragging to the whole world!" Linda said, laughing at your reaction together with Peter. She pulled him closer, whispering in his ear. "I'm not surprised by her act, she doesn't like sharing anything about herself, you have a tough nut to crack."

Lidia left the two of you with an encouraging smile, like you really had something to do with him.

"Traitor." you told him, drinking the entire content of your cup in one breath.

"Wow, take it easy, I'm not carrying you around like last time."

"I'm so mad at you! Why did you say that?"

"Why not? It's not like she'll see me ever again, tell her we broke up next time she asks."

"It was straight up unnecessary!"

He put his hands on your shoulders, lowering himself down on your eye level.

"You're making a scene right now. Relax, I did it so girls wouldn't flirt with me."

You gave him the death glare that he was so used to seeing.

"Like anyone would flirt with you!"

"Yes, your friend did, the second she saw me."

He was right, she did start her introduction with a flirt, which annoyed you slightly, but it wasn't something you wouldn't get over.

"Don't try anything with me." you told him. You knew how you got when you were drunk and you'd feel bad if he took advantage of that.

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"Pete?" you knocked on a bedroom door upstairs. No answer.

You got absolutely hammered after your argument with Peter. He spent the night running after you like a bodyguard because you would wander off somewhere without even saying a word. You did it again, after he told you to stay put so he could go to the bathroom. He said he'd be back in 5 minutes. He was back in 3, but you were gone. Since you had no perception of time while you were drunk, you thought he was gone for more than half an hour and started looking for him. So, the two of you were basically looking for each other at a frat party. You went upstairs, walking in on two or three couples making out or even having sex while looking for him. He, on the other hand, was searching downstairs. He found Lidia and asked her for help, to which she agreed.

After not having any luck upstairs, you headed straight out of the house before any of them could catch a glimpse of you. Peter tried calling but your phone, along with the car keys, were in his pocket.

"I'm really starting to get freaked out here." He told Linda as they walked up the stairs together.

"Look, if we find her here, I'm sorry. If we don't, I'll start to worry as well."

They didn't find you in any of the frat bedrooms which was both good and bad news at the same time.

"Is there any chance she could have gone home?"

"No, I'm the one driving back. Unless she took a cab, but I doubt that, her phone is here as well."

They walked out of the house, Peter sat on the stairs and pulled at his hair nervously. How did you manage to disappear into thin air in 3 minutes? He was the one supposed to look after you. Lidia sat down next to him, placing her hand on his back and running it up and down for comfort. She leaned closer to him, her body pressing to the side of his. Peter turned his head to look at her but they were interrupted by a familiar fit of laughter. Peter stood up, looking in the direction of the sound when he saw you down the street. One of your arms was holding onto a lampost while you were swinging around it in circles and laughing.

"Thank god." he said in relief, offering a hand to Lidia. "I present to you, drunk Y\N. One of the funniest people you'll ever meet."

The two of them paced towards you.

"PETEY!" you said, letting go of the lamp. You were dizzy from the spinning and the alcohol but made a few wobbly steps in his direction, so he could catch you just before you fell. You looked up to him and cupped his cheeks with your palms, squishing his face.

''Here's my little, almost minor wanna-be-boyfriend!" you giggled.

He turned you around, pressing your back against his chest and wrapped his arms around you so you could face Lidia. She was staring at you in disbelief.

"My friend! The only one I have. Pete, look, my friend!" you turned your head to Peter and pointed at Lidia. He laughed at you, kissing the top of your head. Peter couldn't help but fall in love with you even harder when you were acting like a toddler that needed attention.

"You weren't wrong, this is funny." Lidia said after the initial shock was over.

"Okay, missy, we should probably go home now."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because you'll want to kiss!"

"I mean, I always want to kiss you, I don't see your point."

"But there are no people at home!"

"And?"

"There won't be a reason not to kiss!"

"So you're saying what's stopping you from kissing me here are the people?"

"Yes."

"And if there weren't any people around, you would kiss me?"

"No! You would kiss me!"

"I want to kiss you now as well?" Peter and Lidia laughed, making you puzzled.

"No, you got it wrong!"

"How did I get it wrong?"

"We can't go home because we will kiss."

"Now you're making me want to go home even more."

You thought about it for a second, confused. You looked up at Peter and then at Lidia who were dying from laughter at that point. It got you even more confused than before.

"Okay, Lidia, it was lovely meeting you, but I need to get her to bed." Peter said after they calmed down.

"We can't go home!"

"If I promise not to kiss you, can we go home?"

"I guess."

Peter was holding you the whole time but let you go so you could hug your friend goodbye. He didn't want to let go, it was the only time you would ever let him touch you without getting angry at him and he wanted it to last longer, so when you turned to him again, his arm was wrapped around your shoulders as he escorted you to the car.

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You were awfully silent the whole ride back.

"Are you still worried about me kissing you?" He asked after the two of you got inside.

"No."

"Then why are you so quiet?" he asked, sitting down on the couch. You sat down next to him, staring at him. He turned his head to look at you, a bit weirded out from your act.

"You're starting to freak me out here."

"Sorry." you mumbled, looking down at your lap now.

You turned your head to look back at him, then down your lap again, and repeated the whole process a few times like a robot that was experiencing a glitch. Peter looked at you with the side of his eyes because he was checking the replies to his instagram stories from the frat party. He turned his head fully towards you, his eyebrows furrowed. Before he could say anything, you leaned in and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. Your lips crashed together and you gave him the softest, sweetest kiss in his life. He dropped his phone on the floor but he couldn't care less about that right now, his crush was kissing him. His hands grabbed your waist while yours were on his cheeks, your lips dancing together. He tried to pull away because he was uncertain of how much you really wanted this but your teeth dug into his bottom lip and pulled him back in again.

"Pete" you said softly after the kiss, both of your foreheads pressed against each other's as your hot heavy breaths mixed together.

"Yeah?"

"I wanna do the thing we do in my dreams."

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