#and your flowers are so sweet and perfect 😭♥️!! I love you I love you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheolkanojo · 1 year ago

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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKSJDKSJDKSDIKSDJSK (yes hello i am back with my keyboard smash and crying emojis u cant stop me)

oh god bambi i love love love this series so much. like i said this series gave me sth to look forward to every weekend. every chapter keeps giving me more and more surprises and excitement. oh god i love pretty please so so much 🥹💞💞

I AM STILL IN DENIAL THAT THIS SERIES HAS COME TO AN END… BUT AAAAHHH YOU WROTE THIS LAST CHAPTER SO BEAUTIFULLY LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO 😭😭😭♥️♥️♥️♥️

now, as usual, lemme scream abt this chapter!!!!

oh god seeing cherry so nervous is cute. IM SORRY but she’s just usually so cool and confident it’s sweet to see another side of her 😭😭 mingyu is such a sweetheart with her too aaaaaaa!!!! it’s sweet knowing her friends and family are there for her. especially seoah and her dad, I CRY EVERY TIME I REMEMBER WHAT THEY WENT THROUGH UNTIL THEY REACH THIS POINT 😭😭😭

WHEN CHEOL BRINGS HER FLOWERS… i kinda sobbed,,, their interaction here is so sweet even tho it kinda hurts bcs they haven’t completely talked it out hajdhsjdhd IT’S THE FRUSTRATION THAT I JUST WANT THEM TO BE TOGETHER???? YKNOW?????

(not to mention cherry almost called him “cheol” again… and “will you text me when you get home too?” AAAAAAKDHSKD 😭😭😭)

oh man WHEN THEY TALK ABT THE DRESS CHEOL WAS SUPPOSED TO GIVE HER AAAAAAAA i cried (99) idk i cry a lot reading this chapter im so weak 😭😭

their talk is so ,,, (BIG SIGH) ALL I CAN SAY IS YOU WROTE IT SO WELL?!?! like i said their conflict is so REAL (and i can somewhat understand cheol’s point of view hahah esp when ppl keep saying bros before hoes am i rite) im really glad they resolved it 🥺🥺

oh!!! i loved it when cheol sternly said he’s not talking to hajun anymore!!! (bitch deserved it LMAO) AND OH MY GODDDD THE PART WHERE CHEOL LOOKS AT HER WITH ADORATION IN HIS EYES (“it’s the same look he had when he was watching both of your friends at the restaurant.”) SKFHSKFJS I REMEMBER CHERRY WANTING SO BAD TO SEE THAT LOOK DIRECTED AT HER AND YOU REFERENCED THAT CHAPTER IM RLY CRYING 😭😭😭

THEIR CONFESSION AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i swear this part got me screaming so MUCH into my pillow!!!!1!1!1 😭😭😭😭😭 IM JUST SO?? HAPPY??? TO SEE CHERRY TALKING ABT HER FEELINGS AND FEELING THEM SO FREELY?!?!? seeing her always seeming like she’s restricting her own feelings makes this part so so heartwarming AAAAAAAAAAA

lmao when they banter about “i can like you but not kiss u” is so so cute THEYRE SO CUTE seungcheol is sulking!!!! YOU KNOW EVERYTHING IS OKAY WHEN CHEOL SULKS LMAO aaaaaaaaa theyre so in love your honor im so HAPPYYY 😭😭😭😭😭 (these are tears of joy)

ALSO AAAAAAAA THE SMUT WAS SO SWEET AND SOFT (but you just had to keep messy cheol didnt you 😁 I SAW IT ALL) it’s so hot yet so full of love 😭😭♥️♥️♥️

(ah yes i forgot to comment abt this bcs i was too absorbed w/ their “talk” BUT THE WAY CHERRY IS SCARED OF DOGS LMAO WKSHDKSHDSK THAT WAS SO FUNNY 😭😭😭 wow… another side of her that i didn’t expect to see at all… 🥹 she’s so cute HAHAH and the way cheol adores her sm yet also teases her a lot abt her fear of dogs is sooooo adorable!!!)

also gurl became clingy after they’re official AWWW she’s so cute. THEY’RE SO CUTE. 😭😭😭😭😭🫵🏻🫵🏻🫵🏻🫵🏻

I LOVEEEEE the ending. it’s so sweet, so warm, so lovely, and just perfect 😭😭 IM SO HAPPY TO SEE THEM HAPPY AND IN LOVEEEE OH MY GOD AKDHSMDDHSK 🥹🥹🥹🥹 it’s truly a sweet closure ♥️♥️

…welp? another longass comment, pls do forgive me 😅😅 (I HOPE YOU’RE NOT BOTHERED BY IT THO AKDHSKDH)

anw, i’ve said this before, but thank you (again!!!) so so much for writing this fic. lemme appreciate your hard work along with ur beta readers 🫶🏻✨ it’s truly a journey, watching cherry’s development as a character as well as seeing her relationship with cheol grow. it’s a wonderful experience. im glad i found this fic 🥹🥹💕💕

i can’t wait to see more of them if you decide to write cheolcherry again one day!! ♥️ they truly have a special place in my heart (and so does this fic)

have a great weekend, bambi! take care, and as usual, cheol loves you so so much 🫶🏻🫶🏻

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 6 (m)

“After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol’s obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?”

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (afab)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst, smut; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: General tws + the big talk 🫣, mentions of slut-shaming and degradation (not in bed) -> plz lmk if im missing any! | [Smut warnings] protected sex, oral (f.), multiple orgasms, fingering, cum play, cum swallowing

🍒 WC: 12.6k

🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 😻

🍒 Author’s Note: It's always so exciting and saddening when a series ends! It's been over a month since this series started! Special appreciation and thanks to those who have given me feedback and/or were here from the beginning! I really enjoy reading your reactions and analysis!

As I said before, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so this fic holds a special place in my heart for that reason alone. Anyway, thank you again (no this won't be the last time I say it!). Please enjoy the last chapter of "pretty please (stay with me)" 🥹❣️

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ pretty please masterpost // the end

You haven’t stood still in the past hour—buzzing around to everyone in the dressing room to make sure everything is being executed correctly. From last-minute wardrobe alterations to doing makeup and hair touches, you’ve been moving non-stop. Overseeing a fashion show is not easy, or maybe you’re just overthinking the tiniest details.

You aren’t getting a second chance at this, so you want to reduce the possibility of mistakes.

“Everything looks great; take a rest,” Mingyu tells you gently.

You glance up from your clipboard, having printed your to-do list and notes prior. Mingyu stands next to you with a kind smile. Your eyes scan him briefly. You reach forward to fix his outfit for the nth time, but he carefully grabs your wrists.

“It looks fine,” he chuckles.

“Exactly. It looks fine. I need it to be perfect,” you huff.

“You have twenty minutes before the show starts. Let’s go get some fresh air,” he says.

Despite your several headshakes, Mingyu pulls you out of the dressing room and toward the lobby.

“…doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my text or calls. I’d figure you’d be here.”

“We should talk another time.”

You strain your hearing when the voices register in your head. Mingyu glances at you and slows in his steps. From how clear their voices are, you figure Hajun and Seungcheol are around the corner.

“Let’s go out the other way,” Mingyu says, stepping in the other direction. You put a hand on his arm to stop him. You’re too curious to not eavesdrop.

“I’ll be quick,” you hear Hajun say.

Seungcheol sighs. “I already told you over the phone that I didn’t want to be around you when you’re being disrespectful.”

“I know, I know,” she says. “I’m sorry I said all those things to her. I just…I just wanted to look out for you.”

You have no doubt who she’s talking about. If she wants to apologize, she should apologize to you.

“I appreciate the thought, but I’m fine. She’s fine. She’s not as bad as you think,” Seungcheol replies.

“I think you’re just too kind, Cheollie,” she says. “She’s not very nice. She’s not been a good influence on you.”

“That grade wasn’t because of her,” he reasons as if he knows what she’s referring to.

Your eyebrows scrunch at that. What is he talking about? What grade?

“No? Then why have you been so distracted in class? Or why do you show up exhausted?”

“Those have all been my choices, though,” Seungcheol argues.

“Perhaps, but does she know the world doesn’t revolve around her? She should be considerate and stop being so clingy,” Hajun explains.

Maybe if you viewed her neutrally, you would think she genuinely has his best interest at heart. But with how she’s treated you, it’s difficult to believe that.

Mingyu tugs on your arm gently.

“You have ten minutes until showtime,” he whispers in your ear.

You close your eyes, listening to Hajun give more reasons for why you aren’t fit for Seungcheol. You want to stay and hear it all. You want to know if he will keep defending you. However, you’re not about to let all your hard work go to waste.

You nod, tearing yourself away and striding back to the room. You roll your shoulders back, head held high as you channel your attention on doing another round of adjustments.

When it’s three minutes until the show, you discreetly peep your head around the curtains. The theatre is packed, mostly with faces you don’t know. Though on one side, you can see your dad and sister. On the other side, are your new friends. Though the one person you are hoping to see isn’t there.

Seungcheol’s seat is empty.

You know he’s here. You hate how your mind starts forming negative thoughts. Perhaps Hajun has succeeded in making him hate you. Maybe he left with her.

You move away from the curtains and stare at the floor. There’s a tightening in your chest that’s a painful discomfort. After the argument, you were prepared not to see him here. Yet after the brief conversation and learning he had still gotten tickets, hope had risen. Even if it was just a sliver, you wanted to believe you could go back to where you were. Part of you even wished you were blissfully ignorant of his assumptions of you—even though they’re wrong and a “joke” to him.

You have the sudden urge to stand him up tomorrow. You don’t want to see him knowing he was here for you but left with her. However, you need to stop running away. You know you will be happier in the future if you have closure.

Before you can take another glance at the audience, Dr. Lim’s voice sounds.

“Alright, everyone, you’ve all been working hard this semester, and I’m very proud of you all,” he starts, “Remember, you’ll all give a quick introduction of your collection, and then once all your models have walked, you’ll give a final statement.”

You feel a hand on your arm. You turn to see Dae beside you. She’s smiling at you, wiggling your arm as if to say, “We did it!”

You offer a small one, trying to focus on the show again. Too much is going through your mind, and you need to narrow it down.

“You look nervous,” Dae whispers in your ear while Dr. Lim keeps speaking.

“I am, a little,” you answer.

“Don’t worry, I am too. At least we’re done, though. Well, we will be in a few hours,” she giggles.

“Okay, everyone is free to watch from anywhere backstage except for the person on deck. If you’re next, you must be here and ready to go. Everyone ready?”

You nod along with the rest of your class.

“Great, George, you’re first. Siwon, you’re on deck. Don’t forget your order, everyone!”

With that, people start moving. Dae guides you to a corner backstage that has a decent view. It’s angled so you can see your family more than your friends. You crane your neck to check the seats again. This time, two seats are missing. Jeonghan isn’t there anymore. Odd.

“Good evening, all,” Dr. Lim greets as he walks onto the stage. There’s faint music playing in the background, and your heart starts to race knowing there’s no going back now.

“Thank you for coming to support our designers. I am eager to show you the student’s work. Please keep in mind that each student was in charge of their theme, hair, makeup, music, lighting, promotion, and of course, their clothes,” he explains.

“There won’t be an intermission as the show is rather short, so if you need to go, please exit quietly. With that, also please turn off your cellular devices. Now that I’ve rambled long enough, let’s get started!”

The audience claps as the lights dim. You and Dae watch your peers conduct their shows, both commenting on them quietly every so often. The themes range from specific colors, to movies, to holidays. Although you don’t like most of your classmates, it’s nice to see the variety of art being presented. Soon, it’s yours and Dae’s turn. You wish each other good luck before tending to your models.

You’re on deck, going down the line of your models as you listen to Dae’s introduction.

“Hello everyone, I’m Dae, and my collection is titled, ‘Limitless’.”

You smile when you hear a few familiar hollers. You’re glad she befriended all your new friends too.

“My theme is space as I want to learn and grow endlessly. Although our space is dark, I want to be one of the stars that shine.”

Dae’s voice fades out as you continue your inspection.

“Take deep breaths,” Mingyu says when you approach him. You reach up and shift a few pieces of his outfit. He stands still as you do so.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “No funny business out there, okay?”

Mingyu smiles. “Of course. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Good, because I know where you live,” you threaten. It’s meant to be told jokingly, but you both know you’re serious.

“Always so charming,” he laughs.

“So I’ve been told,” you smile and pat his chest. “Thanks for agreeing to do this, Mingyu.”

“I could never say no to showing off my handsome features,” he replies, tilting his chin up with confidence.

“Maybe I should have asked Jeonghan instead,” you tease.

Mingyu scoffs playfully, opening his mouth to reply but stops when Dr. Lim appears.

“Yn, ready?”

You face him and nod. “I’m good to go.”

“Excellent,” he pauses, “It was nice having you in class again. I’m wishing you a bright future. You have talent, and I’m excited to see what you do with it.”

“Thank you, Dr. Lim,” you reply. He gives you a grin before leaving again.

Mingyu’s thumbs raise in encouragement when you glance at him. The small smile you offer fails to hide your nervousness.

“People are going to love your designs,” Mingyu reassures. “Now, go get yourself ready.”

“R-right,” you say.

You make your way to the front of your model’s line as you hear Dae give her ending speech. You want to listen to what she’s saying, but you’re too anxious. You glance at yourself in the mirror that is situated backstage, quickly adjusting the outfit you made yourself.

It’s all red—not because of Seungcheol, you tell yourself, but because you needed to match the fabric Jeonghan had bought you—with the top being covered in rhinestones and fading out. The dress hugs your torso and then flares into a flowy bottom with a slit. Over your neck and shoulder blades is red lace that is attached to the fabric Jeonghan got you, giving you a cape that pools on the floor a little. The space between your dress and the cape shows enough skin to be sexy but not overly so to be inappropriate for a school event.

Although the fabric was meant to be used for one of your model’s outfits, it wasn’t the blue you wanted, and you had already switched your design after Tori took the original from you. You had already planned to make your own dress for the event but hadn’t decided on the design. Since you didn’t want Jeonghan’s fabric to go to waste, you created a design based on it—using your original idea meant for the blue fabric but tweaking it.

Applause erupts, cueing you that you are next. Although you aren’t able to watch Dae’s show, you know Seoah is recording, upon your request, so you can watch it later.

Dae walks backstage as Dr. Lim goes to introduce you.

Dae is beaming, eyes crinkling and mouth open in utter happiness. She goes to you and wraps her arms around you.

“What a rush! That was so fun,” she gushes. “You’re going to do great.”

You return the hug quickly. Her energy bleeds into yours, and your heart races with nervousness. After years of being a spectator of the show, it’s finally your turn to be a participant. You feel all your years at the university have led to this moment.

“Please welcome Yn,” Dr. Lim says.

Dae gives you an encouraging pat on the back before she steps away. You take a moment to inhale a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and stepping out onto the stage.

The stage lights are blinding, making it difficult to see out into the entire crowd. You take the mic from your professor and curl your fingers around the object a little tighter than you should. Your eyes dart across unfamiliar faces as your eyes try to adjust to the lights.

“Good evening. My name is Yn, and my collection is titled, ‘Pinwheel’,” you start, voice wavering to show how anxious you are. As you take a quick second to recollect yourself, your eyes snag on a face you’re keen to see.

Seungcheol.

He didn’t leave.

Normally, you would question why he took so long to be seated, but you’re too jittery with the show. You don’t have the energy. Rather you focus on his eyes. They watch you fondly. His hair is pushed from his face like he put some product in it. You feel honored he dressed up for you.

He tilts his head and stretches his lips into a reassuring smile. Although it makes your heart pump quicker, it also gives you the push you need to continue.

“You’ll see an array of colors and designs that represent the four elements—air, water, earth, and fire. I wanted to try different styles that still coordinated together in some way. I hope you all enjoy,” you continue.

The crowd applauds, and amongst the noise, you can make out a few hollers from your friends. It eases your nervousness as you walk off stage. The lights adjust, and the track Jihoon created begins to play.

You motion for the first model to begin walking. You stay in the same spot as your volunteers ascend the runway. You fall into a rhythm as you time your models. When it comes to Mingyu, you expect him to sneak in a joke. However, his face is set in stone and is serious. You smile softly and lightly touch his arm to signal him.

You glance beyond the curtain to watch him for a second. As Mingyu promised, he doesn’t do anything to ruin your show. If you didn’t know he was a photography major, you would suspect he was an actual model. A goofy part of your brain wonders if he practiced his walk in his apartment.

Two models left and then everyone will do one more walk. That’s all you have left. Despite the already short time of your portion of the show, it feels a lot shorter. Everything has been going well so far. No models slip, your outfits stay intact, and there aren't any technical difficulties.

You appear in front of the audience again as your models finish their last trip around the stage. Your models stay on the stage, allowing the audience to associate the designs with the designer.

“As you’ve heard many times tonight, thank you for coming. This project was challenging, but the reward was worth it. If you have any questions about my collection, please don’t hesitate to ask me after the show. Thank you,” you conclude, giving a bow.

Each clap from the audience chips away at the weight on your shoulders. You can breathe easier knowing that that is it. The project you’ve been waiting to do since before your freshman year has finally come and gone. And gone well nonetheless.

You watch as your friends and family stand, big smiles on all their faces. Although they all mean a lot to you, you can’t help but look for Seungcheol out of all of them.

He stands tall, hands clapping together, with a huge grin on his handsome face. His eyes shine with pride, and you can feel that familiar warmth spreading across your chest again. It feels like you’ve just given your first fashion show as a big-name designer, but in reality, it’s simply a senior project. Seungcheol makes it feel more than it is. And that makes you feel all the more confident.

There are only three more students after you. You and Dae go back to you where you were originally seated, this time accompanied by Mingyu—now dressed in his own clothes. As the show ends, all the students file onto the stage.

“It was a joy to witness the progression of the student’s works. Thank you for another successful show. Seniors, you should all be proud of your work,” Dr. Lim pauses to glance at you all. “Please enjoy the refreshments in the lobby. You’re welcome to mingle and network for at least another hour. Now, please give another round of applause for our talented students.”

The sound fills your chest with a bittersweet feeling as you take your final bow.

“Your designs were gorgeous!” Seoah exclaims when she finds you in the lobby. She runs into you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. Your father comes next, joining in a three-way embrace.

“You did amazing, sweetheart,” he compliments. Your heart is swelling from their kind words. They have seen some of your past designs, but this is different. Even though it’s a school production, it’s still the biggest fashion show you’ve ever been a part of.

“I need you to make me that green one! The one that looked like it was made of leaves and vines. That was my favorite. You get to keep your clothes, right?” Seoah speaks quickly in excitement.

You laugh softly, nodding. “I’m afraid family relations only grant you a five-percent discount.”

“What?” she huffs. “I should get it for free for being the best sister.”

“You’re my only sister,” you argue.

“Which makes me more special!”

“Alright, girls. We can arrange a business deal at home. I’m going to take Seoah to get some ice cream. We’ll see you later,” your father says. You give them each a last hug before waving them goodbye.

You don’t even get a minute break before you feel arms wrap around you.

“I told you you would do great!”

Soonyoung’s loud voice rings in your ear, causing you to flinch. He tears himself from you with a big smile. Your friends gather around in a semicircle, all showering you with praises and words of encouragement. However, like before, one face is missing from the crowd.

“Even though I just met you this semester, I’m proud of you,” Yejun says. You thank him before watching as he leaves to go to Dae. He’s more her friend than yours, but you’re still grateful for his words.

“Does Mingyu get to keep his outfit?” Vernon questions.

You shake your head.

“Good,” Seungkwan chimes in. “He doesn’t deserve such nice clothes.”

“Hey!” Mingyu gasps, offended.

“Excuse me?” an unfamiliar voice interrupts your crowd. All heads turn to see an older woman, dressed professionally. “Yn, right?”

You turn away from your friends to greet the stranger. “Yes, hello.”

“My name’s Park Quinn. I work for a local agency and wanted to give you my contact information. I loved your collection,” she says.

Your eyes widen. “Oh, that’d be great.”

You take the card she gives you.

“I don’t want to take time away from your friends, so please contact me whenever you can. We can try to arrange something if you’re interested.”

You nod, trying not to seem too enthusiastic and eager at the proposal.

“Of course. Thank you, Ms. Park.”

She smiles and then turns away. Before you can dive back into your friend’s bickering, which you can hear faintly in the background, more people come up to greet you. Many of whom you don’t know. Some are prospective students; others are more recruiters.

You’re talking to different people for what feels like ages before the crowd finally slows down. Your friends left a few minutes ago, telling you they’ll arrange a time you can all hang out.

You’re backstage to gather your belongings and clothes when there’s a soft knock on the open door.

“I’m almost done,” you announce, figuring it’s Dr. Lim coming to tell you to hurry so he can lock the theatre.

“Take your time, Cherry.”

Your hands pause in reaching for a garment bag, gaze whizzing to see the person.

Seungcheol stands in the doorway with a small bouquet of flowers. They’re a mix of reds, pinks, and greens. It’s beautiful.

Too nervous about the show earlier, you finally take in his attire. He’s wearing an all-black suit, the undershirt being a turtleneck. You saw his new hairstyle while on stage, but it still surprises you to see it up close.

He looks stunning.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, a little shocked to see him.

He smiles, walking farther into the room. “I wanted to give you these.”

He holds out the bouquet. You stare at it a little too long because Seungcheol starts to chuckle.

“Not the ones you like?” he teases. He begins to set them down on a nearby table, but you stop him. You take it in your free hand, the other occupied with other items.

“They’re pretty,” you reassure. “Thank you.”

He grins when you finally accept them. In exchange, he grabs your belongings from you. You tilt the flowers to your face, breathing in their fresh smell and grinning slightly.

“Your collection was incredible,” he says.

“You think so?” you hum, eyes glancing at the clothes which are hanging in bags.

“The best out there.”

You smile. “You sound a little biased, Seungcheol.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “but I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Silence fills the room as you both stare at each other. His eyes drift to your body. You feel a little shy, and the need to fill the silence grows. You want to ask what took him so long to come into the theatre, but that would mean you were actively looking for him. It would also mean Hajun would most likely be mentioned if he decided to go into detail. That topic could wait until tomorrow. You’re enjoying being able to talk to him like you used to, albeit a little more consciously.

“D-do you like it?” you ask in lieu.

Seungcheol’s eyes move back to yours.

“You made this?” he asks, gesturing to your dress.

You nod.

“You’re very talented,” he praises. “Though that was evident earlier… You look beautiful, Yn.”

Something about hearing your real name from his mouth has the compliment’s meaning more impactful.

“I do?” you ask, shifting your weight.

“I’ve never heard you so doubtful before,” he observes with a gentle grin. “First about your designs, and now about your looks.”

He reaches out to you, and for a split second, you think he’s going to caress your face. Instead, he grazes his fingers over the cape’s fabric.

“You do look pretty,” he hums. His eyes scan the material, gaze softening as if recalling something bittersweet.

“Jeonghan bought it for me,” you state. You’re not sure why you disclose that information. Why does it matter to Seungcheol if Jeonghan gifted the fabric to you? He probably doesn’t care. The air just felt too suffocating to stay silent.

“That’s nice of him,” he mutters before pulling away. Maybe you’re imagining it, but he sounds more monotone than before.

“Y-yeah.”

Another pause.

“Actually, I should probably change out of it. Do you mind?” you ask. You expect him to make a joke of “having seen it all already,” but he doesn’t.

“Oh, yeah. Of c-course,” he answers, turning around.

You wait a few seconds to ensure he isn’t going to peek before finding your bag with your spare clothes. The dress you don is too long to wear outside. You don’t want it to get snagged on anything; plus, you’ll probably get your foot tangled in the fabric in the car later.

You quickly change into a simple dress and sneakers, stuffing your red dress in another garment bag.

“Okay, I’m done,” you announce.

Seungcheol turns slowly. He takes in your new outfit, and if you didn’t squirm and look away, you would’ve spotted the little smile on his lips.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” he asks, glancing around the room. It’s mostly empty. You just need to carry the clothes back to your car.

“You don’t have to stay. Thank you for the flowers,” you say.

“Well, I’m not letting you walk to your car alone,” he replies.

“I’ll be fine. The campus is well-lit.”

Seungcheol eyes you, mouth pursing to tell you he doesn’t care.

You sigh and hold out the bouquet, knowing he isn’t going to leave. “Hold these.”

He does so and watches as you drape the garment bags over a table. You start to dissemble the clothing rack.

“I could’ve done that,” Seungcheol says.

“I’m sure you’re capable, but it’s quicker if I do it. I know how to take it apart,” you reason. You place the pieces in the bag they came in, zipping it and placing the strap on your shoulder.

“Let me,” Seungcheol offers.

“I don’t know,” you say slowly, stepping away. “You look awfully pretty holding those flowers.”

And he does.

His dark clothes and hair contrasting with the bright colors of the flowers, create a pleasing sight.

Upon hearing your teasing tone, he grins. “You look prettier with them, so take them.”

He holds out the object, but you shake your head. You hang the clothes over your arms despite his second protest.

“I need a good view on our walk to my car,” you explain and start to move to the door. He follows reluctantly.

Somehow along the journey, you end up swapping items anyway. You now hold the bouquet, unable to stop taking several whiffs. You can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten flowers before. Maybe one or two, but never a whole bouquet.

Seungcheol packs your car carefully, ensuring he doesn’t accidentally destroy any of your outfits. They’re all protected in bags, but that doesn’t make them invincible.

“Are we still meeting tomorrow?” he asks when you’re seated in your car; your window is rolled down to talk to him. He has one hand resting on the roof of your car as he peers in.

“If you’re still willing to,” you reply.

“I am,” he answers.

“Okay.”

A pause.

“Will you text me when you get home?” he asks.

“You don’t need—”

“Or I can tail you. It’s your choice, Cherry.”

You exhale audibly.

“I’ll text you,” you decide.

He smiles. “I thought so.”

He stands up to leave, telling you a goodbye you barely register as you debate something in your head.

“Wait, Ch-Seungcheol,” you call and peek your head out.

He pauses in his steps to look back.

“Will you… text me when you get home, too?” you ask hesitantly. The question shouldn’t make you nervous, but it does. Maybe because it’s a hint that you still care about him.

The corner of Seungcheol’s mouth rises, a gentle chuckle escaping into the night.

“Yes.”

The simple word has you reflecting your own grin, giving him a final wave as he walks to his car, which is easily visible due to the nearly-empty lot. You wait for him to get into his vehicle before you leave.

You [10:48 PM]: Home.

Choi Seungcheol [10:56 PM]: good

You [10:57 PM]: Are you texting and driving, or are you home as well?

Choi Seungcheol [10:57 PM]: home (:

You [10:58 PM]: Did you forget to tell me?

Choi Seungcheol [10:59 PM]: no i just got home

You [10:59 PM]: Okay.

You [10: 59 PM]: Thank you for coming and for the flowers.

Choi Seungcheol [11:00 PM]: u dont need to thank me. i enjoyed it

You [11:01 PM]: Still… Goodnight, Seungcheol.

Choi Seungcheol [11:01 PM]: sweet dreams cherry

The trek to Seungcheol’s apartment door is grave.

As much as you try to push away the last memories you had here, they’re difficult to ignore. Each step makes the feelings resurface. You just wish this visit won’t end in the same way. His words from that day still sting, but you’re tired of staying in the past. The short interaction with him last night reminds you of how nice it is to be around him when you aren’t fending off his business friends. It spurs the hope you once felt that you could somehow make it work with him.

Seungcheol had messaged you earlier that something had come up and asked to meet at his apartment instead of the café. You were hesitant at first, but he reassured you he wasn’t going to offer a ride. It’s a bit silly that the decision is based on whether he is driving you, but you feel more comfortable knowing you don’t have to rely on him if things go awry.

Seungcheol opens the door with a kind smile.

“Come in,” he greets, stepping to the side.

You move past him and take off your shoes while he shuts and locks the door.

“I’m sorry about the change in plans, I—”

Your scream has him halting.

You hastily push yourself behind Seungcheol, shoving your back against the wall and clutching his shirt roughly.

The abrupt yank on his clothes has Seungcheol stumbling backward. His hands come up to steady himself on the wall, trying not to crush you.

You hold him close to your body as a shield.

“Get it away! Please, Cheol! Make it leave!” you yelp frantically.

“W-what? What’s wrong?!” Seungcheol asks, completely startled by your sudden outburst. He tries to turn to face you, but your strong grip on his shirt limits his range of motion. “It’s only… Oh.”

Seungcheol laughs.

A chorus of “ha’s” that has you hitting his back in frustration.

“Cheol!” you whine when a loud woof sounds in the room.

“I didn’t know you were scared of dogs,” he muses.

In front of Seungcheol is a big, furry dog. The breed is unknown to you, but that’s the least of your worries. You truly don’t give a fuck. You just need it gone.

“Well, I am, so make it go away!” you cry and give his muscular back another thud.

“Okay, okay. Let go, Cherry,” he chuckles. You slowly release him, keeping your body one with the wall.

“Come on, Cho, let’s give Cherry some space,” he says cheerfully to the dog; the pitch is higher than before. Why does the beast get to hear that tone from him?

“It’s staring at me,” you huff, eyes on the animal carefully.

“He’s just interested in you,” Seungcheol chuckles, hand rubbing the dog’s head. He moves away and tries to call the dog to him, but it doesn't listen.

Another yelp comes from your lips when it starts to walk toward you again. Seungcheol kneels down and holds onto its chest instead, almost as if he’s hugging it.

“Go to my bedroom; I’ll be there in a second,” he instructs kindly.

“It’s going to chase me,” you say.

He laughs softly. “I’m holding onto him. You’re safe.”

“Are you sure?” you ask cautiously.

“Yes. Go on,” he smiles encouragingly, nodding in the direction of his room.

Slowly, you push away from the wall. You stay a good distance from the beast in Seungcheol’s arms. As if it wants to tease you, it barks at you. That lights a fire under your ass that makes you break out into a sprint.

You shut his door in a hurry.

You step away from the entry in case the dog decides to knock it down. As you unwind, your eyes scan his room. Nothing has really changed—not that it should’ve. While his bathroom door is ajar, his closet is on full display. You don’t think anything of it, but then your eyes catch on to something red. He has red in his closet, so the color isn’t what intrigues you. What catches your attention is that it’s a dress.

A red dress in Seungcheol’s closet.

You shouldn’t be touching his stuff without his permission, but your hand reaches out on its own. You carefully graze your fingers over the material. The silk is smooth under your touch. It feels good against your skin.

There’s a bag hanging off the hanger. You should stop while you can—snooping never ends well for anyone. Yet, that doesn’t halt your hands from removing the bag and peering inside. It’s empty except for a receipt.

You figure it’s for the dress; however, the name of the place at the top isn’t a clothing store.

It’s a fabric store.

Seungcheol’s door suddenly opens, jolting you from your spot, paper still in hand.

“Are you okay? I would’ve put him in another room if I had known you were scar—”

His eyes fall onto your hand. They grow slightly, and he stands still.

You take the moment to look back at it, scanning the item to try to figure out what it’s for. Before you can examine it for long, it’s pulled from your grasp.

“What’s that for?” you ask as he stuffs it in the pocket of his jeans.

“Nothing. Why are you looking through my stuff?” he questions back. His tone isn’t unkind, but it’s not as cordial as it was before.

You can lie about it, but it was in a bag you deliberately opened. Unless he forgot where he put it, he would know the truth.

“I was curious,” you answer truthfully.

“It’s not polite to look through people’s things,” he scolds and walks to his closet door. He starts to shut it, but you can’t move past the mysterious dress.

“Are you seeing someone?” you wonder. There’s something sharp prodding your heart at the possibility. Perhaps it shouldn’t matter. Maybe you’re just here to mend a broken platonic friendship rather than a romantic one. You were never his to begin with, but something breaks in your chest at the idea of the opportunity being taken from you.

Suddenly, “Are you dating Hajun?”

All those times you pushed him away… Were you pushing him into her arms instead? Is that why he never let go of her? But he didn’t sound like her boyfriend in the theatre’s lobby.

Seungcheol finishes shutting his closet door before he focuses on you. His eyes dance across your face for a moment. You can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“What makes you think that?” he asks. He moves to sit on the bed, patting the space beside him, but you shake your head. You don’t want to be close to him right now.

“The dress,” you trail off, “in your closet.”

He releases a dispirited exhale.

“It’s not hers,” he says.

The grip around your heart loosens an inch but still holds on tightly.

“Hana’s?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“Let’s resolve our other issues before we get into another, okay?” he suggests.

Your eyebrows furrow. “So, the dress would cause another issue?”

“Hasn’t it already?” he sighs. “You weren’t meant to see that.”

You scoff, arms crossing. “I would’ve never guessed.”

Seungcheol frowns at your sarcasm.

“We can talk about it later.”

“Why dance around the topic? Just tell me if you’re seeing someone,” you argue.

“Why?” he replies, eyebrow quirking.

“Because—” I want to know if there’s a chance for us. “—that would explain the dress.”

“Just dro—”

“What’s the big deal?”

“It’s—”

“Just tell me.”

“Cherry,” Seungcheol groans.

“Yes or no. It’s simple.”

“No.”

“No, you’re not dating, or no, you don’t want to answer me?”

“No, I’m not dating anyone.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Some relief floods in your chest, but there’s still something odd about the wardrobe addition.

“Then—”

“It’s yours,” he finally huffs out, irritation laced in his tone.

That shuts you up successfully.

“It’s for you,” he sighs, voice softer, and stands up. “Or, it was for you.”

He pulls open his closet and takes the garment off its hanger. He grabs one of your hands and places the item in it. Before you can get a proper grip on it, Seungcheol lets go which forces you to clutch it quickly.

“Wha-What do you mean? I-I didn’t leave this here. I’ve never worn this. I—”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “It’s new. I got it before… before our fight. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

Your eyes drift to the dress in your hands, lifting it up to see it better. It’s nothing too flashy, but it’s still beautiful with its simplicity.

That pang in your heart comes back but for a different reason.

“You’re not just saying this as an excuse, right?” you ask, the thought bubbling in your mind.

He gently takes the dress from you, laying it out on one side of the bed while guiding you to the other. He sits you down.

“No,” he answers. “I’m telling you the truth. It’s yours if you want it—no strings attached. If not, I can donate it.”

Your eyes move back to the clothing item.

“Why did you get it for me?” you ask and look at him.

Seungcheol rakes a hand through his hair, ears turning a light pink. “I was going to ask you on a date.”

“Y-you were?” you stammer, eyes wide. You’ve always wondered if what he told you while you were crying in his arms was true or if it was all just said in the heat of the moment. Your heart races knowing he meant them. He really did like you then.

“And I was going to ask you to wear this,” he explains, eyes moving from yours.

You continue to stare at him, flabbergasted. His plan was sweet, and part of you feels bad for having ruined it. Though, that wasn’t entirely your fault.

You’re not sure how to respond. You feel utterly honored that he got you a dress for your potential first date with him. However, you don’t know where you stand right now. Unresolved issues still hang in the air.

“Let’s talk about something else, then get back to this, alright?” he tries again.

This time, you nod.

“I know I already apologized, but I truly am sorry for what I said here last time,” he begins.

“Were you really just joking?” you wonder.

“It was a mix, honestly. I was a little shocked at the thought of you never having sex before.”

You frown but try to keep your emotions in control. “Why?”

“Because I’ve heard you’ve gotten around.” He winces as the words come out. You glance in your lap for a second, grabbing the hem of your skirt to play with it.

“From who?”

You aren’t too surprised to hear this information. You have plenty of “enemies” on campus. One of them was bound to start rumors. Hell, you have a few exes that go to the university, so they could’ve spread false information too.

“Several people,” he speaks softly so he doesn’t hurt your feelings. “I actually knew about you before we met at Jeonghan’s.”

“Really?” you question and look at him again.

“Yeah, but I heard about you a lot more when Hajun and Hana realized who you were,” he explains. “I guess their words stuck without me knowing.”

Your lips dip down. “Did you believe them?”

You hold your breath as you wait for his reply. You already have a feeling Hajun and Hana have talked enough shit about you to fill two whole toilets, but their opinion of you isn’t the one that matters.

Seungcheol sighs, gaze drifting from you and then away.

“I’ve never seen you act the way they described, so not completely,” he answers.

“Not completely?” you repeat.

“There was always that thought in the back of my head… Wondering if you just wanted to sleep with me.”

A scoff. “You thought that even when I kept pushing you away at the start?”

“Maybe you were playing hard to get,” he attempts to reason.

“No, I was genuinely annoyed,” you say.

“Ouch,” he frowns.

“Also, need I remind you that you were the one that kept approaching me?” you add.

Seungcheol leans back on one hand, the other running through his hair again.

“I know,” he says. “I think I just heard Hajun and Hana talk so much that the thought was just always there because of them. I never saw the person I heard about… Well, you weren’t always nice, which I also heard.”

You roll your eyes, not truly irritated at his last comment since it isn’t entirely false. “I’m not one to play along if I don’t like you.”

“I’m aware,” he answers, a small smile on his lips.

“Why did you stay friends with them when they said bad things about me?” you question next.

“Like I said that day, I had known them a long time, and we were in a project together.”

You recall his reasoning, but you still want to ask. “That’s it?”

“Why do you think I did it?”

“Because you agreed with their views on me,” then you mutter, “or maybe because you liked Hajun.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows angle downward. “I’ve never felt anything romantic toward Hajun, and I didn’t believe them.”

“Did it not bother you when they said that stuff?” you ask.

“It did. I really did tell them to stop when you weren’t around,” he answers. “It’s not easy to let go of people you’ve known for years.”

“I beg to differ,” you huff.

“Would you ditch Dae if she spoke badly about me constantly?” he questions.

You tilt your head. “That would mean I have to care about you a lot.”

“Don’t you?” he teases lightly, leaning toward you.

You smile small. “More than her? No.”

“Breaking my heart, Cherry,” he chuckles and pulls away. He inhales deeply and then continues. “I was hoping something would change, and you would all get along.”

“I told you it would never have worked out,” you reply.

“Wishful thinking,” he shrugs.

You nod, moving your gaze again. An important question lingers in your mind. You want to ask, but you’re truly nervous about his answer. At one point, you would’ve found a way for it to work, but now, you don’t know if you can.

“Ask me,” Seungcheol coaxes softly. You glance at him, wondering how he knows you have a question for him.

He chuckles. “I know there’s more running in that pretty head of yours.”

Taking a deep breath, you nod.

“Are you still talking to them?”

He was just talking to Hajun yesterday, so you aren’t going to be surprised if he says yes.

“No, I’m not,” he answers sternly.

That shocks you more.

“Y-you’re not?”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“I realized I care about you more than I do them,” he says, echoing your earlier words. “I choose you. I’ve always chosen you in the end—even if it didn’t feel like it.“

You’re on the edge of inwardly celebrating. It’s relieving to finally hear he has cut ties with the people who made your life miserable.

“I-I saw you… I mean, I heard you yesterday with Hajun at the theatre,” you confess.

It’s his turn for his eyes to open bigger. “Nothing happened between us.”

“What was she talking about with your grades?” you ask, recalling how she used that against you.

Seungcheol rubs his temples. “I just got a low test score. It really isn’t a big deal.”

“Because of me?” You frown.

“No,” he’s quick to reassure, “it had nothing to do with you.”

“But Hajun said—”

“She was just finding excuses for me not to be there,” he explains. “Her words didn’t mean anything. I’ve gotten low grades before.”

“She seemed serious,” you argue.

“Because she was,” he sighs.

“Do you really think she was looking out for you?”

Seungcheol rubs at the back of his neck. “Sort of, but I also think she was exaggerating things to make you seem worse.”

“I’m sorry if I distracted you from your studies. I should’ve left you alone,” you apologize, averting your gaze.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab one of your hands. You look at him when you feel his touch.

“Even if you tried, I would’ve kept bugging you,” he replies. His words make you feel a little better, but you still feel guilty despite him saying it isn’t your fault.

“Why would you have?” you ask.

He smiles kindly, eyes softening at the thought of his reply.

“Because I liked you and wanted to get to know you more.”

Your face heats at his words, or maybe it’s because your body is tingling with his skin against yours. Regardless, you feel the butterflies awaken in your stomach.

“Do you—do you still,” you trail off, feeling anxious at the question.

“Do I what?” he presses gently. His thumb glides against the top of your hand.

You stare at his floor when you continue slowly, “Do you still like me?”

There’s a moment of silence before you feel his fingers against your chin. He guides you to look at him; he’s staring at you as if he cherishes and adores you.

It’s the same look he had when he was watching both of your friends at the restaurant. It’s difficult to believe he’s giving that gaze to you now.

You can’t tear your eyes from him.

“I like you very much,” he declares confidently.

Your mouth twitches as you try to suppress your smile, but it’s pointless. Your lips stretch until they hurt.

Seungcheol mimics your grin. “Do you like me?”

At one point, you would’ve profusely denied it. You’ve been pushing away those tempting thoughts for so long that you can’t do it anymore. There is something about Seungcheol that you can’t shake off.

It could be the way he always holds the door open for you. It could be that he always takes care of you—carrying you so you won’t hurt your feet, offering his home when you need it, holding your belongings so you have to lift as few fingers as possible. Or perhaps it could be the way he makes you feel like your head is in the clouds.

You always thought you’d want a partner who you didn’t constantly argue with, but you found the light bantering between you two entertaining. Sure, it does get under your skin at times, but you never stay truly mad at him.

Seungcheol makes you feel special. He makes you feel wanted.

He makes you feel loved.

So, with the smile still etched on your face, you answer, “Yes. I like you.”

Seungcheol’s eyes go from quarter moons to waxing crescents. Small wrinkles form as his mouth widens to a gummy smile. The happiness on his face has your heart skipping.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, eyes hopeful.

You nod without hesitation. “Please.”

Seungcheol’s lips still have the same effect as before. It takes your breath away and makes you giddy.

He moves a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until you are nearly on his lap. The position doesn’t offer you much balance since you’re trying not to knee him in the jewels.

You start to pull away when you feel your body slipping off the edge of the mattress.

“Wait, Cheol—” you try to warn, but it’s too late.

You tumble to the floor, dragging him with you.

You both land with a thump as you’re pulled from each other.

Seungcheol’s booming laugh echoes in his room, causing your own stomach to hurt from giggling.

“Are you okay?” he asks between breaths while sitting up. You stand from the floor, straightening out your clothes. He follows you up.

“Yeah,” you reply. “You?”

“I’m fine,” he reassures.

You jump when the dog outside barks at the noise. Seungcheol smiles at you and reaches out to give you a comforting pat.

“Relax, Cherry. Cho isn’t going to hurt you. He’s a big baby,” Seungcheol soothes.

“It didn’t look like one,” you huff, recalling the size of the animal.

Seungcheol guides you back to the bed.

“Do you have any more questions for me?” he asks, easing back into the somber conversation.

You pause as you think. When nothing comes up, you shake your head.

“Do you?” you offer.

“Three,” he answers.

You breathe slowly, preparing yourself for them. “Okay, what’s your first?”

“What else did Hajun tell you by the restroom?” he wonders.

“Oh,” you mumble, not expecting that. You go back to that memory in your head. “A-are you sure you want to know?”

Seungcheol's face grows serious, head nodding curtly.

“She said you left me because I was a slut. She told me you said I was the ‘worst fuck you’ve ever had,’ and she called me worthless,” you pause as Seungcheol’s jaw clenches and eyes narrow. If you weren’t talking about someone else, you would be worried to see such an intense stare.

“She said you were trying to get rid of me, and the only way you could do that was to sleep with me… Since you know, I just need ‘something between my legs to be satisfied’.”

He’s quiet for a moment. Usually, it doesn’t bother you, but combined with his stare makes you shift uncomfortably.

“I didn’t say any of that. I hope you know that. She made that up,” he says, expression easing when he speaks to you. “I wasn’t even going to say anything, but she kept wondering why you weren’t around. I just told her we had a falling out, and that’s it.”

From the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, you believe him.

“I believe you,” you voice aloud.

His once-tensed shoulders relax at your words. “I never wanted you to leave. I never wanted to hurt you. You’re not any of the names she called you.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. Although you’ve been trying to ignore Hajun’s words the past few days, you feel better knowing Seungcheol’s true feelings.

“I’m still sorry,” he says.

“I know. I forgive you,” you respond, hand resting on his thigh.

“You don’t have to. I know what I said was disgusting and rude.”

“It was,” you concur, “but I’m willing to forgive you because I don’t think you mean what you said.”

And now he won’t have those toxic people whispering lies in his ears.

“I don’t,” he repeats. “I think people are intimidated by your confidence. You know what you want, and you know your identity, while some people don’t. It scares them, so they take it out on you. They’re jealous of you.”

“It sounds like you're buttering my biscuits, Mr. Choi,” you hum as you listen to him analyze the people who dislike you.

“I’m just being honest,” he says, a slight frown on his lips.

“I appreciate it,” you reply more earnestly. You’re grateful he confirmed he didn’t think those negative thoughts about you. You feel you can circle around the topic for hours, so you ask for the second question.

“Do you like Jeonghan?” Seungcheol asks.

That takes you by surprise. “No, why do you ask?”

You almost laugh at the idea of dating Jeonghan, but you refrain from it. You don’t want Seungcheol to think his question is stupid even if it is.

“You two just seem close,” he says.

“I tolerate him more,” you explain. “I only like you. Now, next question.”

“Wait, I want to make sure you don’t like hi—Hmph!”

Your lips meet his to stop his sentence. He melts quickly against your mouth, a hand reaching out to your waist. You pull away before it can go any further.

“I would never kiss Jeonghan like that,” you smile.

Seungcheol grimaces at the image you put in his head. “That doesn’t mean you don’t like him.”

“So, I would like that fool, but not kiss him?” you wonder. “Okay. Then I like you, but we can’t kiss anymore.”

“What?” he asks, startled.

“If I can like Jeonghan and not kiss him, then I can like you and not kiss you.”

The corner of Seungcheol’s mouth pushes down. His lips purse slightly when he speaks, “Alright, I get it. I believe you. Kiss me.”

“No,” you say defiantly.

“If you like me, then you’ll kiss me,” he explains.

“But you just said—”

“I lied. You have to kiss the people you like,” he corrects quickly, leaning toward you.

“Is that so?” you ask, a mischievous smirk forming on your lips.

Not having a good feeling with the look on your face, Seungcheol sulks, “You only like me, so that means you can only kiss me.”

You smile at hearing his dragged-out words.

“Is that the rule?” you tease.

“Yes,” he huffs.

“Then I guess I can kiss you,” you say. However, you don’t move from your spot.

Seungcheol fusses, “Now, baby.”

“Oh,” you giggle. “Fine.”

You move in closer, smiling when he meets you halfway. The kiss doesn’t last long as you pull away to ask for his third question.

His tongue darts across his bottom lip as he stares at you. His gaze is solemn, and you mentally prepare yourself for what he has to ask.

“It hurt me to know I caused you pain,” he starts slowly. “I never wanted you to think I believed the rumors about you, but I guess they had an effect on me that I wasn’t conscious of. I regretted everything I told you that day the second it came from my mouth. I was so desperate to fix my mistakes that I didn’t take the moment to think.”

You watch him intently. Each word is taken in with great care, trying to push aside the initial feelings of anger and hurt to hear him objectively.

“I know I made a mistake by keeping them my friends for so long. I just wanted things to work out, and I wanted you all to see the good in each other. I know that sounds a little cliché, but it’s true… Maybe I just didn’t want to choose between you all,” he pauses to take a breath.

“Though, most of all, I wanted to know you more. Despite not having the best first impression, I realized quickly you weren’t what people made you out to be. Along the way, I started to see you as more than a friend, but I had trouble finding the right moment to see things through. Then I fucked it up, and I didn’t think I could fix it… but you’re here now. And we’ve talked things through.”

You nod to show you understand what he’s saying.

“So, where do we stand?” he finally asks.

“I’m sure we could go around each other for days, but I’m ready to move on. I was fully prepared to never talk to you again, but I couldn’t,” you stop gradually, not sure if you want to disclose your next thoughts.

“You couldn’t talk to me?” he asks, confused.

Sighing, “No. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Oh,” he replies, a small smile on his lips.

“Don’t get too happy now. They weren’t all good thoughts.”

“I know,” his smile faltering, “but there were some good ones?”

“Yeah… There were good ones too,” you reply softly.

Seungcheol takes your hands in his, shuffling closer.

“What were they about?” he ponders.

You squeeze his hands. “Your smile.”

At your answer, his lips begin to lift again.

“How you held me,” you continue.

Seungcheol takes that as an invitation to push you back against his pillows. You smile, raising your arms to wrap around his neck as he presses his body against yours. One of his hands snakes under your back while the other rests on the mattress so he doesn’t squish you completely.

“How you kissed me,” you whisper.

The man above you grins wider, pecking your lips tenderly. You chase his lips, and he grants you a lingering kiss before pulling away.

“And most importantly, how you made me feel.”

Seungcheol rubs your back gently. “And how did I make you feel?”

“Like I was yours,” you murmur as your face warms at the confession.

“Will you be mine? Officially?” he asks, gaze darting back and forth between your eyes.

You wonder if he can feel your racing heart against his chest.

“Yes,” you say. “Officially.”

He chuckles, pressing his mouth on yours as if to really make it official.

Your mouths move languidly. You can feel his hair fall around your face, tickling your cheeks. Smiling, you tuck the strands behind his ears and then keep your palms cupping his cheeks.

When you adjust a leg to wrap around his lower back, he moves the hand under you to rub your bare thigh—exposed by your skirt. His hand trails up and down your skin for a moment until it goes lower. He grabs your ass, massaging it over your panties. His lips slip from yours to kiss along your jawline until he finds your neck. You have no doubt that you’ll end up having to hide a purple mark later.

Both your clothes are off in a matter of seconds. Seungcheol’s hands move across your body, exploring each bump and crevice as if it’s his first time. However, you’re no different. You feel like you’ve touched every part of him, yet you still want more.

Your soft moans fill the room when he scatters kisses down your body before latching his mouth on your clit. His hair quickly becomes tangled as you grab it. Your hips roll against his face, chest rising and falling as you get closer to your high.

His fingers accompany his mouth, pumping and scissoring in your wet hole. His raspy voice sounds sexy as he praises you when you come, but his moans are sexier. His eyes are hooded, drinking up everything you give him until you lax on his mattress.

You don’t even realize he put away your new red dress and slipped on a condom until a dip in the bed catches your attention. Your vision is coming back to you gradually. Seeing Seungcheol with messy hair and his lower face covered in your juices has you pouncing on him.

His laughter rings out, grabbing your face and slotting his mouth against yours while you straddle him. You don’t care that you can taste yourself on his tongue. You just need him to fill you.

You slide your dripping folds along his thick length, making sure it’s coated so he can sink into you easily. And easy it is.

Both your sighs and strangled moans permeate his room. You stare down at him, mouth open as you move your hips. His brows meet; he’s trying to control his breathing. Each drag of his cock against your walls feels heavenly. Although the pace is similar to the first time, it feels different. There’s more meaning with every circle and rock of your hips. Maybe you’re making it up all in your head, but when Seungcheol pulls you down on top of him to hold you as he begins to thrust his hips up, you know you aren’t.

The way he kisses you tells you he feels the same.

There’s less desperation in his movements now. You don’t have to worry about this being the last time. You don’t have to worry about him hooking up with another person. He isn’t available to anyone anymore. He’s loyal. He’s kind.

He’s yours.

Your legs press against his sides, a loud cry tearing from your throat as he pushes you over the edge. Your walls flutter around his cock that’s still gliding inside you.

“Just for me,” he pants. “You’re just for me.”

You nod, spewing a variation of agreements as you cling to him. Your body rubs against his while he keeps thrusting up. Mewls fall from your mouth as you start to become overstimulated.

Seungcheol coos in your ear, telling you he’s close and that you’re a good girl for letting him use you for his pleasure. His hips stutter each time you clench your walls around him.

By the time Seungcheol pulls out, you are a moaning mess. He flips you over, pulls off the condom, then comes onto your stomach and breasts. You’re sure the sight arouses Seungcheol as he fixates on your body.

His fingers run through his seed, spreading it more across your skin. His tongue darts out against your breast. You watch as he trails the wet muscle along your skin, his cum gathering on it until it’s full. Before you understand what he’s doing, he brings his mouth to yours. You open your mouth, greedily drinking what he’s giving to you. You don’t even stop to think how filthy the act is.

Even though you can tell Seungcheol is spent, he still cleans you with a damp towel before snuggling back in bed. You both fall into slumber a few minutes after.

You wake to a sudden cold breeze.

Whining in your sleep, you roll over to snuggle closer to Seungcheol; however, you’re met with empty space. You peel your eyes open reluctantly, leaning up on an elbow to see where he is.

Seungcheol sits on the edge of the bed with a sweatshirt and sweatpants over his body.

You crawl closer until he’s in arm's reach.

“Where are you going?” you murmur as you snake your arms around his wide frame.

He jolts at your abrupt touch but quickly relaxes once he realizes it’s you. He places his arms over yours, craning his neck to see you.

He pecks your lips. “I have to go walk Cho.”

“Can’t it wait?” you ask.

“He,” Seungcheol corrects, to which you roll your eyes. “And unless you want to clean his pee or poop, then no.”

He carefully pulls your arms from around him and stands, leaving you shivering as the cold air hits your bare body.

Seungcheol pauses by the bed when his eyes see your naked torso.

“You do make it hard to leave, though,” he sighs.

You smile and put a hand out for him to grab. He does, and you instantly tug him back onto the bed.

You kiss him quickly, bringing his hands to your chest, covering them so he can’t move away.

“Stay,” you say between kisses.

“Baby,” he protests while squeezing your breasts. His lips purse every time you lean in for another kiss. You grin in hopes you’re convincing him.

“I have,” a kiss, “to go,” a second kiss, “walk the dog.”

You finally stop your torrent of smooches to pout at him.

He chuckles at your expression. “You’re welcome to join.”

“I rather not get mauled,” you scoff and try to pull him closer, but he resists you this time.

“Why are you scared of them?” he wonders.

“I got attacked by one as a kid, and they never are friendly to me.”

“My poor baby,” he coos as he brushes your cheek. “Don’t worry, Cho is really sweet. Why don’t you meet him? Let him sniff you and then I’ll go walk him quickly.”

You shake your head frantically. “I don’t want it—him anywhere near me.”

“I promise you’ll be fine, but I understand. Maybe another time, okay?” he replies.

You nod and let your arms fall when he pushes off the bed.

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” he informs while walking to the door.

“Okay,” you mutter and pull the covers over your body. He smiles at you before pushing open the door. Your body freezes when you see black fur at the entrance.

“Hey, sweet boy,” Seungcheol greets the animal happily. He stops the dog from coming inside the room, giving him a few pats and ruffles of the fur before easing him backward. “No, she’s not ready to say hi yet. Come on, let’s go out. You wanna go for a walk?”

Your body relaxes at hearing Seungcheol’s light voice. You’ve never heard it before, and you realize there’s still more to learn about the man.

The door shuts softly. The last thing you see is the dog jumping excitedly as he runs out of view. You hear Seungcheol laugh.

It dawns on you that you don’t know when he got the animal. He definitely wasn’t here the last time you were here. Does this mean you’ll have to stop coming to his apartment now? He spoke highly of the dog, and you trusted Seungcheol to keep you safe, but animals can be unpredictable. Still, you can tell how much Seungcheol likes him.

As instructed, Seungcheol comes back ten minutes later.

“So, how much did you miss me?” he teases while raking a hand through his hair. He takes off his sweatshirt, giving your eyes something to stare at as he walks toward you.

You stop him when he begins to climb into the bed. “Wait.”

“Did something happen while I was gone?” he questions, playfulness replaced with concern.

“No, I just,” you breathe in slowly, “I’d like to meet your dog.”

His eyes grow. “There’s no pressure to do so.”

“I don’t want to be run off by your dog anytime I come here,” you grumble. “Just a quick sniff; that’s all he gets.”

Seungcheol laughs and raises a hand to rub circles against your back. “I forgot to tell you that Cho isn’t mine. My brother had an emergency and needed me to look after him for a few days.”

“Oh,” you hum.

“So, you want to come back here?” he asks, recalling that part of your sentence.

“If you want me here,” you bashfully answer.

He leans down to kiss your forehead, easing your nerves.

“You can come over whenever you want,” he offers. “I would prefer it actually.”

“Why?”

You expect a sweet response, but instead, he just smirks and says, “Because I need someone to clean the place.”

You scoff, smacking at his chest and rolling your eyes.

“Kidding, kidding,” he laughs. He grabs your hand when you go to hit him again. He tugs you closer for a playful kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. “Do you still want to meet Cho?”

“Are you sure he won’t bite off my hand?” you ask.

“I’m sure,” he replies confidently.

Hesitantly, you nod. “Okay then.”

Seungcheol smiles and leaves you with a kiss on the cheek. Like before, the dog greets Seungcheol as soon as the door opens. His tail is wagging, and his mouth is open as he breathes.

“Cherry wants to say hello,” he tells the dog, slowly guiding the animal closer to the bed. Your body is rigid, and you clutch the sheets to your chest. You just hope this isn’t going to be your end.

“Sit,” Seungcheol commands. You watch as Cho does so.

“Okay, hold out your hand, palm down. Yes, just like that. Breathe, baby, it’s okay,” Seungcheol instructs you softly. You glance away but quickly look back. Maybe you can pull your hand away quickly enough before he chomps.

The dog leans his head close, nose wiggling as he sniffs your hand. The few seconds it takes feels like half an hour. Suddenly, the dog’s tongue sticks out. The act coats your hand in slobber, and you screech as you tug your hand to your chest hastily, thinking he bit you.

“It’s okay, Cherry. You’re okay,” Seungcheol soothes you, sitting on the bed. He puts the dog between his legs as he rubs your arm softly. You pull your hand back, sighing with relief when you see it still intact.

“Cho just licked you,” Seungcheol explains.

“S-sorry,” you say, eyes searching for the dog. He sits staring up at Seungcheol with his tail wagging. The pet isn’t lunging at Seungcheol or nibbling off his flesh.

“It’s okay. You did good, baby,” Seungcheol praises, giving you a kiss on the cheek as a reward. “I’m going to take him out, okay?”

You place a hand on his arm. “Has he ever bit you?”

Seungcheol glances at Cho and shakes his head. He gives the pup a loving head rub. “He’s just a big baby. He’s well-behaved. He’s even good with kids.”

“Has he ever bit your brother?”

“I don’t believe so,” he replies.

You peer down at Cho once more. You’re still scared of him, but seeing how much he likes being around Seungcheol, you feel a little bad kicking him out again; especially, since he doesn’t have anybody out there to keep him company.

“H-he can stay if he doesn’t come close to me,” you say cautiously.

“He’ll be fine out, it’s okay,” Seungcheol reassures.

“I trust what you say about him. He seems… okay.”

Seungcheol grins, slowly letting the dog go before climbing into bed. “He is.”

The dog stands, shakes out his fur, and then does something that has you clutching onto Seungcheol. Cho jumps on the bed.

“Oh god, he’s going to eat me,” you cry. Seungcheol wraps an arm around your body, pulling you close. He rubs your arm tenderly.

“No, he’s not,” he laughs. You watch as the dog walks around himself once before plopping down. Luckily, he’s on Seungcheol’s side. Cho rests his head on the bed, watching you both. His tail wags a little, but not as much as before.

“He just wanted to sleep up here. Is that okay?” Seungcheol asks you.

“You let him up here?” you question, knowing some people don’t like their pets on their beds.

Seungcheol shrugs. “The covers are dirty anyway. Might as well let him have a comfy place to nap. Speaking of, do you want to stay the night?”

“That’d be nice,” you smile at him.

You reach for the purse you brought when you first ran from Cho. You tap on your phone to see it’s nearly four in the evening. You didn’t realize how long it’s been since you arrived at eleven.

“Unfortunately, I’m not the best cook, so we may have to do takeout,” Seungcheol says shyly.

You giggle, sending a quick message to your sister that you won’t be home tonight.

“I can cook,” you offer.

Seungcheol looks at you sadly, hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Actually, I only have ramen. I haven’t gotten groceries yet.”

“Oh. I like ramen,” you reply and put your phone down once Seoah replies. Your phone keeps buzzing as she tries to get more information from you, but you simply put the device on Do Not Disturb and place it back in your bag.

“I wanted to treat you to something better than ramen,” Seungcheol says. There’s a faint frown on his lips.

“I don’t mind,” you reassure. “Now, can we sleep a little longer?”

You carefully guide Seungcheol down until his back hits the mattress. After pulling the covers over the both of you, you snuggle against his body.

“I guess I don’t have a choice,” he chuckles as he lets you lay him down. He holds you close, eyes staring at the ceiling as he rubs your back.

“Hm.” You close your eyes, letting the gentle rise and fall of his chest hypnotize you.

“Baby?” Seungcheol asks. You’re on the verge of sleep, but you hum again to let him know you heard him.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You smile, forcing your eyes open to peer at him. “Can I still wear the dress you got me?”

“You can wear whatever you want, Cherry.”

“Can I pick out an outfit for you, too?” you ask.

“While you have great fashion sense, I’m not sure—” he stops when you begin to plead with your eyes.

“Fuck,” he curses more to himself.

“Please, Cheol?” you ask, voice soft and lips pouting.

“You know I’ll eventually become immune to this, right?” he grumbles.

The way he words it makes it seem like you’ll be around long enough for that possibility to occur. You nuzzle closer at the thought.

“Maybe, but right now you’re not,” you smile wickedly. “What do you say?”

“Fine, alright,” he caves.

You lean up, giving him a big kiss as a thank you. He hums against your mouth. You feel his hands go south, but you quickly stop him.

“It’s sleepy time, not sexy time,” you scold light-heartedly when you pull away.

Seungcheol sighs dramatically but yields. “Hurry and sleep then.”

“You’re not going to run away, are you?” You narrow your eyes.

“Never,” Seungcheol smiles down at you.

Your gaze lingers on his eyes, quickly scanning his face. Finally, you let your mind wander freely. You let yourself indulge in how comfortable you feel around him. You don’t have to ignore those illusions you had produced, nor do you have to convince yourself that you only see him as a friend. You can fulfill those fantasies little by little. You don’t have to hide from your emotions. You already feel lighter at letting go of those conflicting thoughts.

Although Seungcheol jokes about keeping you around to clean, you wind up doing it without being asked. You suppose he knows you won’t be able to handle the clutter.

You’re picking up his discarded jeans when something flutters to the floor when you do so. You bend down to grab it.

It’s the receipt from earlier.

While Seungcheol is in the bathroom, you finally have the chance to examine it.

You notice the fabric store name, having only been there a few times since it isn’t local. Your eyes trail down to the item's name. Although it’s a shortened version of the name, you know what it is.

That brat.

The sound of the bathroom door opening has your eyes snapping up and hand lowering to your side.

“Why did Jeonghan lie to me?” you ask him before he can take two full steps.

Seungcheol looks at you, head tilting and eyebrows knitting.

“What did he lie about?” he questions.

“He didn’t buy that fabric for me,” you scoff and hold out the receipt. “You did.”

Seungcheol’s gaze drops to the paper in your hand. He releases a small exhale.

“It’s not a big deal,” he replies.

“You always say that,” you huff. Your eyes fall back to the receipt, glancing at the price. That makes more sense as to how Jeonghan got it.

“Because it’s true,” he says. He moves to stand in front of you. He carefully takes the receipt from your hand. “I just wanted to give you something you wanted.”

“Why? How’d you even know?”

He folds the paper as he answers, “Dae mentioned it at dinner that one time and Jeonghan told me about it.”

“You didn’t answer the first part,” you call out.

He chuckles softly. “That’s because it should be obvious. It’s because I liked you… I still do.”

“You can like me without buying me expensive things,” you reason.

“I know,” he says. His eyes fall down to the sweater that you wear—it’s his. Your legs are bare and have ankle socks on. “But I still wanted to. So, deal with it, Cherry.”

He gives you a smile before walking away and into the living room. You follow, still weary of Cho and huddling against Seungcheol if he gets too close.

“Hey, wait, you didn’t tell me why Jeonghan lied to me.”

Seungcheol takes two glasses from a cabinet and then shuffles to the fridge. “I asked him to.”

“You? He didn’t steal it or something?” Although you know Jeonghan likes to con others, he isn’t one to steal. Yet, you still want to ask since the whole situation puzzles you.

He laughs, filling the cups with ice as he replies, “No, he’s not like that. I wanted you to have it before the show, but I knew you wouldn’t take it after our fight.”

“You let me think he got it for me,” you state; your lips begin to dip down as you ponder on the thought.

You remember feeling so thankful to Jeonghan for getting it for you. There’s a pang of guilt knowing you were thanking the wrong person. You finally understand the look on Jeonghan’s face when he gifted it to you.

Seungcheol sets the glasses on the counter, grabbing your chin gently to make you look at him. His fingers are chilly, but they feel good against your warm skin.

“I’m just glad you used it, baby,” he says kindly. He lets go of your chin with a smile.

“Cheol,” you call, a hand reaching out for his bicep. He pauses in turning back to the fridge.

Once he is staring at you, you speak, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry it wasn’t the blue you wanted. It was out of stock, and it would’ve taken too long to ship,” he explains.

You shake your head. “It was perfect. I liked the red more.”

Seungcheol smiles, though one side is lifted as if it’s a borderline smirk.

“I did too. Red looks good on you,” he compliments. One that takes you back to that cursed poetry lounge night. It was the first time he called you Cherry, and you called him Cheol. The first time you were alone with him for longer than fifteen minutes. The first time your body reacted in ways that went beyond the line of friendship.

“So I’ve been told,” you murmur.

“Have you?” he teases. “Whoever said that must be really smart.”

“Yeah, sure—” you begin, only to jump and knock into Seungcheol when Cho unexpectedly rubs his nose against your leg.

Seungcheol’s laugh doesn’t drown out the sound of your thudding heart in your ears, but at least it offers some (annoying) comfort. Cho is going to take some getting used to.

previous chapter \\ pretty please masterpost // the end

A/N: Although the series is over, I would love to continue writing this couple in the future! Please look forward to some bonus scenes... Perhaps from Cheol's POV? My ask box is open for any questions or comments about this series! Thank you for reading!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭 omg *trying not to freak out that it's over* (also wattpad says this fic's read time is 6 hours and 11 minutes LOLOLOLOL... nice 😅 but if you're a slow reader like me, that time is prob way more haha. this being said, ty for ur time while reading!)

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (cant tag :c), @cheolcherries, @mingyublues, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @comounlunar(cant tag :c), @minhui896, @doom-fics

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withahappyrefrain · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet fairy queen Rae, I....

You need both sunshine and rain to help flowers grow, that's why they're perfect together!

That was probably my favorite line I wrote out of this. It just encapsulates how Peter has begun to heal and can move on, as well as that he's come to terms with his feelings for Sunshine and had accepted them!

Sunshine does not have time to play therapist. And Peter has already almost lost her once, he is not going to mess around anymore.

I love writing these two. I could write them bantering for so long (and I just might!)

Thank you again for your kind words!!!! ♥️😭♥️♥️

Here Comes the Sun 3/3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 Playlist

Summary: An unexpected journey causes Peter to learn new things and make revelations.

Warnings: AFAB!reader, language, talk and description of depression and anxiety. Reader is given a name but it's very brief (and you can ignore it if you want)

Up until recently, Peter never understood why people focused on yesterday. He was always glad to go on with the next day. It meant he survived whatever plagued him the night before, whether it be a weekly villain or his own personal demons.

It meant he had another chance to try to make up for his past mistakes. He never wanted to harp on the day before, it wouldn't change anything. He learned that a long time ago.

But now?

He believed in yesterday.

He’d give anything to go back to his own world. It was so off-putting. Everything looked so familiar and yet was completely different. This world had Spider-Man and Peter Parker in it, but it wasn’t the same.

Why was he here? How did he get here? To this new universe? Did time work differently here? How long had he been gone from his own world? It could have been a difference of just a few hours or days. Did May notice he was gone?

His mind immediately went to the little ball of sunshine that he had run away from

Guilt rang through his body whenever he thought of her. Spending time with her was more enjoyable than he had expected. But he never meant to get so caught up, to kiss her. It was a mistake. A huge, cosmic mistake.

Because as baffling and as confusing and as charming and as adorable as she was, he never meant to hurt her. Despite his best efforts to avoid eye contact as he left, he couldn’t help it. He looked at her. He saw the pain in her now dull eyes, the anger.

This was for the best, right? Now she could move on. Find someone who could actually laugh and smile and relax. Someone who shined as bright as her. Someone who didn’t suffocate her light, like he did.

Peter turned his attention back to his current predicament. He had always wondered about multiple universes and their existence. He even researched it during college. When questioned about it, Peter responded that it was simply “a cool theory”.

The truth was that Peter theorized that if multiple universes were real, multiple versions of a person could also be real.

And the teenager who shared the same name only strengthened that theory.

Which was why, selfishly, the first thing Peter did was to test out a theory he had since he was nineteen.

He had to see if she was out there.

—---------

She died in 2012. One of the many casualties in the Battle of New York. Peter had searched all over the city for her (it was easy to go unnoticed when folks believed you were just dressing up for money and pictures). His search led him to a cemetery. The sight was familiar but also sickeningly.

She had died while helping a young boy. Protected him, sacrificed herself.

Was that Gwen's fate, no matter the universe?

Was the universe that cruel? How could someone so bright be tied to such a fate?

Peter stared hard at the tombstone. The sight never became easier to stomach.

"I don't…..I don't know if you're the same as my Gwen. You share the same name. So hopefully it's not weird that I'm talking to you," Peter then muttered, "he says to a tombstone."

This wasn't his first time. Her tombstone was all he had left of Gwen. While he didn't visit every day of the week like he once did, it was still a sacred site for him. In a twisted way, it was comforting. It felt like she was somehow still there.

"I….I met this girl. And you…you would have really liked her. She's funny and doesn’t hesitate to give it right back to me. She's pretty bright too. Different from you. Not saying she isn't smart, but she's….she just has this weird tendency to light up a room when she walks in. Her name is Eppie, and she sometimes goes by MJ, but I call her Sunshine because she's…..she's always smiling and just feels warm."

Peter rocked himself back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"I….we went on two dates and at the end of the last one….I kissed her. And what I hated about it was that…I didn't feel guilty for kissing her. I felt more guilt over not feeling guilty," His voice became soft, "Why…why didn't I feel guilty?"

He knew one potential answer. But that couldn't be it.

"I know if you could speak to me, you'd tell me to move on. But every time I try to move on, someone gets hurt. I tried to move on from my parents, and I lost Ben. I tried to move on from Ben, and I lost you. If I try to move on from you….I don't want her to get hurt."

Even if she somehow was able to talk to him, Peter doubted she could give him a comforting answer.

Folks on the outside would say he had a choice. But he didn't. Peter could never be that selfish again. He could never let someone in, immediately putting them at risk. The value of the potential loss was too high.

He was supposed to be alone.

__________________

After learning the fate of this universe's Gwen Stacy, Peter decided to focus on another name. His own.

Thanks to the numerous TVs plastered in Times Square, he was able to pick up the key details. This young boy was also named Peter Parker, he also had very similar abilities and his secret identity was also Spiderman. At least, it was a secret until recently.

Though Peter didn't have all the details, it was safe to say he was on Team Spidey. Mysterio was a grown man outing a kid. Anyone who does that could not have good intentions.

It was safe to assume this version or variation of himself was going through a lot. He was still a kid, still in high school.

It was also safe to assume that perhaps, this universe's Peter could help him get back home. Surely, if something had to be amiss if he was able to travel into a different world.

Peter couldn’t tell if it was his Spider-like sense, or the fact that they shared the same name and abilities. But something was troubling the boy. He needed help.

Perhaps Peter could help him.

He just had to find him first.

—----------------------

“Prove it. That you’re Peter Parker.”

Peter never thought he would have to prove who he was. Usually the suit was enough evidence.

Though, he did respect that this universe’s Peter’s girlfriend was not as easily trusting as her friend. He would have done the exact same thing, if the roles were reversed.

“Crawl around,” She demanded, bread in hand. Perhaps not teaching high school wasn’t a mistake. But he didn’t blame the young girl. She was being protective, which given all that had been released from his own universe (and potentially others), made total sense.

It was a lot all at once. Peter hadn’t expected to get berated by two teenagers. Nor did he expect them to confirm that magic existed within their universe.

Nor did he expect a third Peter Parker.

Peter foolishly thought he would have the upper-hand due to age. How quickly his hand was webbed proved him wrong. Peter didn’t feel bad for being suspicious-the man reciprocated the same feeling. They both were expecting a much younger Peter Parker.

It was an odd sight. The idea of being Spider-Man as he got older wasn’t foreign to Peter, it just wasn’t something he thought about.

More so, he actively chose not to think about it. For so long, he had associated the thought of being older to having settled down. To having a family of his own.

That was no longer possible.

So, he didn’t think about it.

“This might seem kinda weird, but I’ve been trying to find your friend since I got here,” The older Peter explained to the two teenagers. Peter kept his mouth shut, as he knew he couldn’t say the exact same.

“I just have this sense, that….he needs my help.”

“Our help,” Peter corrected. While looking for this universe’s Peter wasn’t the first thing on his list, it was his priority now.

“Well, is there some place that he might go, that has meaning to him? Like a place he would just go to-”

“Get away from everything?” Peter finished. Turns out, having a specific spot to clear your head was a universal Peter Parker move.

Though Peter would still argue he had the spot with the best view.

_______

Peter watched as MJ and Ned comforted their Peter. He stayed in the background with the oldest Peter, not wanting to be seen just yet.

“I got some understanding-”

“Please don’t tell me you know what I’m going through. She’s gone. And it’s all my fault” The younger Peter told him.

He saw himself in the young man. Specifically after Gwen died. The grief was overpowering, radiating off of him. As was the anger.

The boy was at a crossroads.

The exact crossroads he was in, nearly ten years ago.

If this had happened a few years ago, Peter would have told him to bury it. That the best way to honor the lost lives was to completely devote himself to being Spider-Man, to keeping everyone else safe.

But was that really a life?

The last few weeks of Peter’s life had brought him a haunting realization.

He was lonely. He was bitter. He had given up everything he as Peter Parker wanted. And all for what?

Sure, he could say it was to honor Uncle Ben and Gwen. But he knew deep down, they would be saddened if they saw what he had become. They wouldn’t feel honor at all.

It may be too late for him to turn it around. But this boy still had that chance. He just didn’t know it. Didn’t know that the path he was looking to take was not the right one. Not the one his Aunt May would have wanted for him. And perhaps, that was why the universe sent him here. To prevent the same thing from occurring again.

“I lost….I lost Gwen. My……she was my MJ.” Peter never talked about this with others. For one, he couldn’t. It was also too painful. But right now, his younger variant’s pain was more important than his own, “I couldn’t save her and I’m never going to be able to forgive myself for that.”

Peter sniffed, trying to hold back the tears, “But I carried on, tried to, um... try to keep going, try to keep being the uh... that “Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man,” ‘cause I knew that’s what she would have wanted. But at some point, I just-- I stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. I got bitter.”

These thoughts weren’t new. They had always been looming at the back of Peter’s mind. Always tried to sneak out, tried to make him aware whenever May would suggest setting him up with someone. The thoughts had been on the forefront of his mind ever since meeting….his MJ? It felt weird to call her that, given how the younger Peter also had someone who went by MJ (which was a very weird coincidence). Sunshine. That felt right. Though she wasn’t his Sunshine.

She would never be.

Peter tried to shove the thoughts of her away. That’s not what mattered now. Even though his brain kept going back to her. Whether it was memories of their past interactions or wonderings of what she was doing right now, if she had noticed he was gone.

“I just don’t want you to end up like….like me.” In a way, it was therapeutic. Not that he should be focusing on himself-the younger variant was more important right now. But to actually say it out loud….brought something to Peter. He couldn’t identify whether it was comfort or alleviation. Whatever it was, he hoped it had gotten through to the younger Peter.

“...Even after she was hurt, she said to me that we did the right thing. She told me that, “With great power--”

“”Comes great responsibility.” The oldest Peter finished.

“Wait, what? How do you know that?”

Maybe they had more in common than they thought. More than just their name and the origin of their powers.

—------

Another thing all three Peter Parkers had in common was science. They were all really good at it.

Peter didn’t mind the distraction. He had already figured out a cure for Connors, so making a second one wouldn’t be too difficult.

But as he looked at the younger Peter and his MJ comfort each other, Peter began to wish he had chosen something more challenging. Where he could focus on the task at hand and not be caught up in the young lovers.

He saw himself and Gwen. The innocence. The overwhelming yet naive belief that somehow, their love could conquer any obstacle that came their way.

Peter knew the truth now. And yet, he still found himself longing for it. Which was ridiculous, he knew better. He had known and accepted his reality for years. What was he longing for? To rest his forehead against someone else’s and breathe in their scent of lavender?

Wait, why lavender?

Fuck. Sunshine. She always smelled like lavender. Peter recalled how nauseating it was whenever she leaned into him, the scent filling his nostrils and how he would get distracted by her bright, beautiful eyes and-

“You have someone?” Peter was thankful the oldest Parker variant had snapped him out of his thoughts. Though he wished the question hadn’t been related to what he was thinking.

“No. I got no time for uh,” He sighed, “Peter Parker stuff, you know?”

The oldest Peter Parker was hard to read. Was he giving a look of understanding? Disappointment? Concern?

“Do you?” Peter asked, hoping for clarification.

He hesitated, “Uh, that’s a little complicated.” Peter felt relief. It wasn’t just him. Clearly the youngest Parker was just an outlier.

“No, I understand. It’s just not in the cards for guys like us.” He had hoped, upon seeing the two other variations of himself, that it would validate him. That what he had decided to do, and had intended to do for the rest of his life, was the right choice.

That when he said it, Peter could actually believe his own words.

He was wrong.

“Well, I wouldn’t give up. It took a while, but…we made it work.” He looked more hopeful

“Yeah?” How? How could he make it work? How was that possible, when it seemed like the universe(s) were giving signs that it wasn’t.

“Yeah, me and MJ.”

MJ?

“My MJ. It gets confusing here." Peter laughed with the oldest variant before going back to work. It was funny that all three Peter's knew an MJ.

Wait.

MJ.

Holy shit.

One MJ was nothing. Two was just a coincidence. But three?

That had to mean something. But what?

The younger Peter's MJ was definitely his girlfriend.

While he didn't specify, it was clear the older Peter was romantically involved with his MJ.

And as for Peter's own MJ….

Oh God, he went on two dates with her. He kissed her.

And he liked it. A lot.

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to do it again. Kiss her and spend more time with her. It was the most alive he had felt in years.

But that couldn't mean…..

Granted, it was hard to argue with the math. All three Peter Parker's knew someone named MJ. Two out of the three were in a romantic relationship with them. Peter himself was on that path before he ran away from it.

Fuck.

Granted, was it really that bad? He did admit to enjoying the time he spent with her. As well as kissing her.

It was never a heatstroke. Or fever. Or some weird gas the latest villain of the week created.

He liked her. He felt alive around her. The time he spent with her was the happiest he had felt in years.

But her being around him was a great risk. She cared, which meant she could get hurt.

That couldn't happen again.

—---

He noticed her immediately. How did she end up here? She wasn't supposed to be here.

This was why Peter was thankful there was no magic in his universe. He couldn't imagine all the shit people would try to pull, that he would have to clean up, as the NYPD would be even more useless.

The feeling of Deja Vu was strong. It was unsettling. She shouldn't be here. She could get hurt.

Really hurt.

As he continued to complete his tasks, Peter kept an eye on this universe’s MJ. Scaffolds were breaking, pumpkin bombs, wizards abound.

The circumstances may have been different, but the risk was still there.

Peter could feel it in the pit of his stomach. He had to watch her. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. Her Peter had already lost so much. If something happened to her….

Peter-one wouldn’t end up like Peter. He’d be much worse.

That couldn’t happen. Peter refused. Her life would not be cut short and her Peter would not be broken.

He ran closer to the ledge as he saw her fall backwards. It felt like that dreadful night at the Tower. The night that no matter how much time had passed, still felt like it had just happened yesterday.

He saw MJ. He also saw Gwen. He saw his own MJ. All falling down towards the ground.

For a brief moment, it looked like the younger Peter would be able to reach her in time. He would rescue her, preventing any harm from coming her way.

Fate had different plans, as that Goblin slammed into him, carrying him away.

No. Not today. This was not going to happen.

Peter swung down towards her. Webbing her was too risky, she was falling too fast. Webs wouldn’t be able to save her in time.

Peter knew this because for the last ten years, he’d laid in bed late at night, replaying this scenario. Analyzing every detail, every action. What he had done and what he should have done differently.

He knew what to do. What he always wished he could have done.

He wrapped his arms around her, securing her. He quickly shot a web up towards one of the scaffolds, allowing him to land on his feet with her in his arms.

She was gasping for air, most likely adrenaline coursing through her veins.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked her. He needed her to respond. He had to hear her talk because otherwise, how would he truly know it had worked? That she was indeed safe?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” She whispered.

It worked. He did it.

What he failed to do ten years ago, he did it just now. Instead of a dead, limp body in his arms, he was holding a living and breathing one.

He saved her.

At first it felt bittersweet. It had been so easy, why couldn’t he had done that ten years ago? But if he had…..if webbing had somehow worked ten years ago, who was to say it would have worked now? Would he have even known?

He was already broken and damaged. But the younger Peter wouldn’t be.

"Are you okay?" She asked. He shouldn’t be surprised. Usually when you rescue someone, you’re not holding back tears.

He could only nod his head in response. Neither she or her Peter needed to know what he just saved them from. All the pain, grief, and anguish.

They never would know, thanks to him.

He saved them. He saved another person from having to experience what he went through. If he hadn't been here, this universe's Peter would have gone down the same path. But he wouldn't now.

It was comforting in a way. For the first time in years, Peter felt proud of himself.

He felt closure. Like this was what he had been working towards all these years. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Despite all the chaos surrounding them, he felt at peace.

Perhaps he wasn’t a failure. Perhaps he could still be a hero. Perhaps, not everything he touched was ruined or lost.

Perhaps he could let a little sunshine in.

—----------------

The rest of the night was a whirlwind.

Peter peered out of the alleyway, taking in the sights and sounds. In theory, he should be back in his universe.

But considering everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, he was cautious.

Everything looked normal. But he had to be sure.

"Hey yo!" Peter called to a nearby walker, "Are you Team Spidey or Team Mysterio?"

"Who the fuck is Mysterio?!"

"I still don't really know either!" Peter exclaimed, swinging away. Whatever had happened to the city while he was gone could wait until tomorrow. He had more important things to do.

He called her first. He considered going straight to her apartment, but what if she wasn't there? What if she was and just slammed the door in his face? Peter didn't blame her if she did that.

Calling first would be best. He could ask if they could just talk. He could explain himself (maybe minus the whole Spiderman and traveling to different universes bit).

Peter had a plan.

Well, he did. But he failed to account for the possibility that she may not pick up.

A voicemail wouldn't do. He couldn't spout his feelings over a voicemail. First, who in the world listened to a voicemail that was longer than thirty seconds? Second, what if she misconstrued what he was trying to say?

Alright, time for plan B. Swing to her apartment. He would check if she was there and if she was, he could swing back to his place, change clothes (maybe shower) and ask for forgiveness.

She lived in apartment 1062, which was on the left side of the tenth floor. Meaning her balcony would be-

Peter instantly recognized the array of plants (seriously how many did she need?) And patio furniture. Lights were strung up around but they were off.

Fuck, her whole apartment was dark.

She wasn't there.

He couldn't text her. Texting was super impersonal. Peter refused to be that guy.

Waiting until she came back was also borderline stalker behavior. But she wasn't answering her phone so how else was he supposed to figure out where she was?

Wait.

May.

She knew everything. She knew Peter was Spider-Man for five years before he told her. May would know where she was.

"Oh my god, Peter!" May immediately went off on a tangent as soon as she picked up, "You've been gone for a week! Where on Earth were you?!"

"Uh…it's kinda a long story. We should definitely be drinking wine when I tell you all about it. But I'm okay! I promise! I would have called you but the reception was really bad."

"I've been worried sick. I asked Eppie if she had seen you-"

"Eppie?"

"Oh, does she go by MJ with you?"

"You mean Sunshine!" Why did she have to have so many names?! Granted, Peter had bestowed the last one himself.

"Speaking of which, do you know where she is? I uh….we didn't end our last date on the best of terms and it's completely my fault so I need to find her and she's not answering her phone, do you think she's okay?"

Peter could hear May sighing on the other end, "Uh…Peter, she's….she's on a date."

Peter's heart didn't just sink. It dropped from twelve floors above.

It had been a whole week. They weren't official. Hell, they never talked about it, probably because if she brought it up, Peter would have run the other way.

She moved on. And why not? If he was in her shoes, he'd too jump at the chance to go on a date with someone who wasn't the human embodiment of a rain cloud.

Was this the end of their story?

No. Not if Peter could help it.

"Where's her date?" He asked. This could go either really well or absolutely horrible. And the easiest option would be just to assume she had moved on and accepted it.

Perhaps it was the fact that for the first time in ten years, Peter Parker felt hopeful.

Whether his hope was making him overly confident, he didn't know. Only one way to find out.

"I believe her Aunt said they were going to get coffee and a bite to eat. It would have started thirty minutes ago, wait, Peter what are-"

"I'll see you tomorrow and I promise I'll bring ya some hamantaschen from the deli on twelfth street!" Peter hung up and tucked his phone in his pocket.

Despite what had happened over the last forty-eight hours, this was probably the bravest thing he was about to do.

—----

He stopped by the café on Fifth Street first. The one she wanted to visit on their first date.

To Peter's dismay, she wasn't there. Crap, did she already leave? Peter's stomach twisted in knots at the thought of her date going so well, they were already on their way home.

He had come so far, this couldn't be the end.

Wait.

There was one other coffee place she could have gone to.

Was it presumptuous of Peter to assume she went to the one they visited on their first date? Maybe.

It was also his only lead. And it was better than swinging by all the coffee shops within a five mile radius of her apartment building.

—---------

Peter leaned over the rooftop, trying his best to stay hidden.

What would he even say to her? Revealing his secret identity in front of nearby strangers was the last thing he wanted.

He needed to apologize. To explain why he has run away and why he's now back. To ask for forgiveness.

Would she even want to listen to him? Peter wouldn't blame her for that.

Well, maybe she would talk to Spider-Man. Maybe he could figure out how she was feeling, without her knowing who she was really talking to. Was it dishonest? Probably.

But it did give him a chance to see where her head was at. If she said she never wanted to talk to Peter Parker again, he would listen. If she said she was open to talking, he could go home, change, and then-

"I wouldn't get in that taxi if you paid off my student loans!" A familiar voice interrupted Peter's thoughts.

Peter looked up and fuck, she was beautiful. Why did he run away in the first place? Because he was stupid and scared. Which he was more than willing to fully admit to-

Wait, why was she yelling at this dude?

"We spent a whole hour together, not once did you ask me a question at all, and you think I'm getting into a taxi with you? How draft are you?!"

"I mean, we can talk at my place-"

"Oh yes, because I'm sure that's exactly what you want to do at your place. 'Talk'!" She said in air quotes.

For someone so tiny, she sure could hold her own.

Still, Peter quietly swung down, landing behind her.

"She does have a point! A whole hour and you didn't ask her one thing?" He said, startling the two.

When she turned around to look at him, it took Peter's breath away. He missed her. The whole damn time he was away in another universe, his mind always wandered back to her.

"Look, you're acting like I don't know anything about her!" The guy, who Peter assumed was the date, defended.

Peter put his hands on his hips, "What's her occupation then?"

The guy stared blankly at her. She smirked, casting Peter a knowing look.

"You're….you do theatre!"

Before he could stop himself, Peter shook his head. Even he wasn't that bad on their first date. Probably because deep down, he wanted to get to know her, even then.

"I teach first grade!"

"Dude, she teaches first grade," Peter admonished. It took everything in him not to sound giddy when she smiled at him.

"Look, it's the first date! How am I supposed to know?!" Peter silently thanked the universe that whoever this dude was, he was not going to wreck his plans.

"It was on my profile. You know, the thing you're supposed to look at before swiping right?" She crossed her arms. For someone who was so bright, she had no issue dishing it out.

Peter loved that.

"Buddy, at this point, I would just walk away," He suggested.

"Whatever, this date wasn't even that good!" The man sighed in exasperation.

"May you be so rich that your widow's husband never has to work a day!" She called out as the man walked away.

"Did…did you just place a Yiddish curse on him?" Peter asked. She giggled, nodding her head.

God, she was so cute. And he was such an idiot for letting her go.

"Thanks, by the way. I could have handled him but it's always nice to have backup."

Peter almost forgot to respond, getting lost in her eyes, "Oh! Uh yeah! No problem! J-Just part of the whole 'friendly neighborhood Spider-Man' thing! Uh…please tell me you're not going to call him back."

She laughed, "Absolutely not! To be honest, I…I didn't want to go on this date."

"Then why go?"

She shrugged, looking down at the ground, "It's nothing. I'm sure you have much bigger things to worry about than some random person's dating life."

"Actually it's a quiet night for once!" Peter paused, "I could…I could walk you home? If you want! Obviously you're more than capable of handling yourself but I can always-"

"Actually," she paused, "that would be lovely. It is getting kinda late."

"Sure! Uh, w-which way should we go? Since I don't know where you live!" He was trying his best to play it cool. He had traveled through different universes now. In theory, he should be able to play it cool.

"We gotta take a right onto sixth street," She said, smiling. The two began walking.

"Is walking weird? Since you're so used to swinging around and all," She asked.

"It's nice to change it up! So uh…what uh what made you go on a date that you didn't want to go on?" He asked.

Sunshine signed, "I was hoping…it would help me move on from someone else. And unfortunately, that didn't happen. I honestly think it made it worse."

"You were trying to move on? From someone?" He asked, his voice shaking. Sure, her attempt failed. But the fact she was attempting to forget about him was less than promising.

"Yeah," She shrugged, fidgeting with her hands, "Trying to move on from someone who didn't want me."

I do want you, was what he wanted to say. But then that would complicate things even more. His goal here was to understand how she was feeling, so he knew how to approach her as Peter.

"And you're sure that-that he doesn't want you? I mean, maybe he does!"

She shook her head, "He…I shouldn't be telling you all this, but he lost someone he loved a long time ago. And their death was really hard on him," She stopped walking, looking right at him, "And I don't fault him for that at all. But…I don't think he's ready to move on and I'd rather not wait around to find out, y'know?"

Peter hated how valid her statement was. He also hated how he couldn't tell her that was she wrong. He was ready to move on. He wanted to move on, to her.

"I mean….that makes sense," He paused, "But maybe…maybe he does want to move on! Maybe he wants to be with you. I…I don't know the guy, but you never know!"

She shrugged, "That's the thing I guess. I don't know."

The two approached the apartment building. Peter didn't feel any closer to accomplishing his goal.

She turned around, her lips forming into a tight smile. Peter hated that he couldn't get a read on her. He had been hoping that this walk would have granted him the chance to see where her head was at, so he knew exactly how to approach her as Peter Parker.

“Thank you for….tonight. It was nice to see this side of you.” Though only for a brief moment, he foolishly thought she was referring to Peter.

Of course not.

He nodded his head, in understanding, “I’m glad I was able to show it to you.”

She began to dig her heels into the pavement, beginning to turn. Peter’s heart lurched. He began to reach out, as if he would cast her back in, afraid to lose her again.

“Wait!” He called out. She suddenly turned to him, caught off guard by his urgency.

“Sorry! It’s just….I think you should give this guy another chance.” That wasn’t entirely how he planned to start that, but since when did anything Peter planned actually come to fruition the way it was originally imagined?

She raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms. Was that a scowl? Was she trying to look intimidating?

It was adorable.

"I….look, I just….think the chance for that has already passed. Thanks again for walking me home," and with that she walked into her apartment building.

Fuck that was not how it was supposed to go. He couldn't let it end like that.

Peter swung up, instantly recognizing the array of plants and matching patio set. The lights turned on, alerting him that he wasn't alone.

"What the actual fu-"

"Look, just-I just need you to hear me out and then I promise I'll go away!" He said, putting his hands up to show he meant no harm.

She leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed. "You have five minutes."

“I just…yes, he absolutely has shit he needs to work on. Like really work on. Probably needs to speak to a therapist and maybe that is-will- be the first time he ever admits to it. Anyways!” Peter was already out of breath, “He probably knows this and I’m sure he really likes you, he’s just…scared. Well, more like absolutely terrified. Be-because I know what it’s like to lose someone you love and you….you accept that you’ll never get another chance, that you don’t deserve one, and it’s for the best, right? So you accept it and try your best to live your life. And then….you come along and you’re just pure sunshine.”

“Spider-Man, I-”

“I know we just met and I clearly don’t know you. But I’m sure that’s what he calls because no other name would make sense. It’s what you are and it’s everything he’s not and that may or may not have also played a factor in how he acted-again, I don’t know this guy! You're everything he's not and he's probably wondering why you would even give him the time of the day and….he’s just scared. And that doesn't give him the right to have been a total dick to you-”

“Spider-” She tried again. Peter was so wrapped up in his own rambling that he didn’t notice the flash of annoyance in her eyes, or how she threw her hands in the air.

“He’s scared because….you just pop out of nowhere and all of a sudden, this warm, fuzzy, slightly-nauseating feeling comes back and he probably didn’t even recognize it at first! Just thinking he was having a heat stroke or something. And then, there’s the sudden, literal hair-raising realizing it’s possible for this….to feel this way about someone again and… I mean, I'm just assuming-”

“Spi-”

“Yes, I-I am aware I’m rambling and I’m sure this is super weird for you and I should probably go, but just please, you gotta give him another-”

“Peter.” She stepped forward so that she didn't have to say his name loudly. He had forgotten how pleasant it was to hear her say his name. How grounding it was, pulling him from the nonsensical rambling daze he was in.

Wait. Why did she say his name?

"I-I'm not-"

"You don't think I'd recognize your voice?" She said with a chuckle, "I've known since you asked me about the Yiddish curse I threw on that douchebag."

"And you didn't say anything?!" Peter asked, aghast. He couldn't tell if he should be grateful or insulted.

"Well, I figured revealing your identity was something you try to avoid," She stepped away from the door, towards him, "....and I wanted to see what you had to say."

"Oh, well…" Peter reached up to pull off his mask, finally revealing his face, "uh…hey."

He cursed himself. Hey? That was the best he could do? He had traveled through different universes, had essentially one giant group therapy session with other variants of himself, and the best he could come up with was hey? Peter couldn't-

Shit, she was getting closer to him.

Though it had only been two days since he last saw her, Peter forgot how bright her eyes were. How captivating they were. Every time he looked into them, it felt like he discovered they held a new shade of-

The searing pain scorched along his cheek broke him out of his thoughts. His head was now turned away from her, his eyesight now on the matching peach patio set.

Peter turned towards her, bringing a hand up to his burning, now sore, cheek. Her raised hand confirmed it.

"You slapped me." He said meekly.

"Yeah, been wanting to for a week now," She said casually, crossing her arms. Was that a smirk? Was she smirking that she had slapped him?

Peter couldn't lie, it was a pretty good slap. And she took full advantage of him, he was bending his knees to be at eye level, allowing her to reach up without over extending her arm.

"I….I didn't expect that," Peter paused, "But I do deserve that."

"Ya think? First of all, you leave me hanging after pulling the biggest switch ever. Then you fucking disappear for a week?! Please tell me you've called or seen May, she's been worried sick and-"

"Of course I did! She's the one who told me you had a date when I asked where you were!"

"You asked for me?" She asked, as if she didn't believe it.

"Yes. After being sent back from another universe, you were the first person I wanted to see. I called you but you didn't pick up. And I…I didn't… I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me so I called May to let her know I was okay and ask where you were!" Peter explained.

She blinked, "We are…we'll talk about the universe thing later. So did you….did you follow me? Even after knowing I was on a date? How did you know where to find me?" She asked. Peter realized in hindsight while the gesture could come across as romantic, it could also come across as stalkerish.

"Well….May said you were getting coffee and I remembered the place you suggested on our first date. But you weren't there so I went to the coffee shop we went to and I realize this makes me sound like a stalker and I didn't really have a plan as to what I would do but what I just said as Spider-Man, I meant it you just have to replace 'he' with I and-"

"Peter," She tried to interject but it was too late. He was off on a tangent.

"I really do like you and I know I have stuff I need to work on and I should totally see a therapist-"

"You have to if you want to keep seeing me." Her words stopped Peter in his tracks.

"Wha-huh?"

"I like you. I want to keep seeing you.”

“You want to keep seeing me?” Peter asked. Surprised was an understatement. As much as he wanted a second chance, part of him still wasn’t expecting to get one. After all, two second chances within the same day was nearly impossible.

“Did you….were you not listening to when I was telling Spider-Man how tonight’s date proved I still had feelings for you?”

"Did you not hear the part when as Spider-Man, I was telling you how I don't know why you'd want me when you're everything I'm not? Also you slapped me!" Peter defended

"You deserved that slap, you said so yourself," her voice softened, "Also, I like that you're different from me…it's one of my favorite things about you."

Peter wasn't sure how to respond. He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when he went to see her tonight.

She must have sensed this, "Yes, that includes when you're the human embodiment of a rain cloud. Which isn't a bad thing. You need rain to help flowers grow, after all."

The scent of lavender flooded his nostrils, alerting him to how close she was. He forgot how comforting her smile was. It was grounding, like the first ray of sun after a torrential downpour.

"And yes, I will support you but I'm not going to be your therapist." Peter nodded his head. It was fair. Completely fair. More than fair.

"I'm more than happy to help you find one and figure out a way to talk about your trauma without revealing your identity," She paused, "You think you could just go as Spider-Man?"

Peter laughed, a warm, safe feeling spreading throughout his body.

"I'm serious!" She giggled, "They can't break their oath, they gotta keep it confidential!"

"I missed you," He said without thinking, "And…I am really, really, sorry for how I left things last time."

She nodded her head. A small smile appeared on her face, though Peter could still see the hesitancy in her eyes. "You have two weeks to find someone. Therapist, psychiatrist, both. If you haven't by then, I'm out."

It was fair. Completely fair. It was also the biggest second chance Peter had received.

"I understand and I…I don't want to let you down again," He assured her.

She moved her hands up to the neckline of his suit, fidgeting with it.

She looked into his eyes, smiling, "I look forward to you proving that."

Peter nodded his head, slowly placing his hands on her hips.

"Can I….Can I uh…"

"I'm not finishing your sentence for you. You're gonna have to use your words Tiger," She smiled, throwing her arms around his neck.

If she wasn't so stinking cute, Peter would have remarked with some witty comeback.

"Can I…kiss you?" He mumbled the last part, looking at the ground. He knew his face was bright red, he could feel the heat practically radiating off of himself. And it definitely wasn't a heatstroke.

"I thought you never asked!" She giggled, like it was nothing.

"Anyone ever tell you that you can be really infuriating sometimes?" Peter remarked, looking back up at her.

"Last time I checked, small and infuriating was exactly your type," She stood on her toes, bringing herself closer to his face.

"So what's your type? Tall, grumpy, and a vigilante?" He felt relaxed in her arms. The banter was fun now. It felt natural, like they were always meant to do this.

Perhaps they were.

His sunshine laughed, nodding her head, "I haven't dated any other masked vigilantes before, but it does make sense with-"

"Dated? Are we-are you implying we're dating?" Despite the grin, his heart soared at her implication.

She bit her tongue, "I am…I am hoping that is what we can do once you hold up your end of the deal. I didn't mean to say it, you're just….you're not the only one who gets nervous, I'm just much better at hiding it compared to you."

"Oh, so your type is infuriating too?"

"Are you gonna kiss me or do I have to do it-" She never got to finish her sentence, due to Peter crashing his lips on hers.

It felt right. For the first time in ten years, things felt right for Peter Parker.

—----------------------------

One year later……

"Peter, I swear to God if you come any closer," Peter couldn't help but grin at her using her 'teacher' voice on him.

"You're gonna send me to the time out corner, Sunshine?" He inched closer to the counter.

"It is the calm down corner, thank you very much. Also how do you expect me to make rugelach when you keep stealing spoonful's of the filling?"

Peter shrugged, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his head on top of her's. She was the perfect size.

Perfect for him. And he (as he had come to accept) was perfect for her.

"Peter," She warned as she intently watched him move his hand to her's.

"What?" He brought her wrist up to his lips, "just wanted something sweet."

She sighed, biting her bottom lip. Peter knew that look. He loved that look, as it told him that he had succeeded in making her flustered.

"That was pretty smooth, you gotta admit," He teased.

"If I do, will you let me focus on baking?" Her voice may have been stern, but the smile on her face told Peter otherwise.

"Fine," He kissed her cheek before walking away, "I'll just admire my wonderful, beautiful, talented girlfriend from afar."

"Your life is so hard. I don't know how you do it. " She deadpanned.

"What are you two lovebirds up to?" May's voice filled the room.

"I'm just making rugelach for FEAST tomorrow, Peter is bemoaning how hard it is to let me focus," Sunshine called out.

"Can I not appreciate my girlfriend? I'm feeling really attacked right now, Sunshine," He remarked, feigning offense.

She looked over her shoulder to send him a smile. It was his favorite smile of her's- the one where her whole face lit up and the corner of her eyes crinkled. She always had that smile when he referred to her by that specific nickname.

"Peter, can you help me with something in the living room?" May asked, motioning for Peter to follow her. The quick wink she gave him alerted Peter to trail behind her quickly.

"Did you find it?" Peter whispered once they were out of earshot.

May nodded her head, "I had to look through several boxes but I finally found it!"

She reached into her pocket to pull out the ring.

Several years ago, May had told Peter that she wanted to give it to him-so he could use it when the time came, just like Ben had many, many years ago.

Peter had told her at the time that she could keep it. That he didn't plan on needing an engagement ring.

Funny how things change.

May handed him the ring. "You're gonna have to get it resized," She explained.

He nodded his head, focusing on the ring he was holding.

"Peter, that means you're going to need her ring size," She added.

"I know how rings work May!" He whispered.

"Do you know her ring size?"

Peter stared at his Aunt blankly.

"I'll ask her. If you ask, it's going to be really obvious. I'll tell her I'm getting rid of some jewelry." Peter was thankful he had Many. Despite making his intentions very clear (while intoxicated and sober), he wanted this to be somewhat of a surprise.

"Peter, I'll let you have some more filling if you help me roll out the pastry dough. Deal?" A voice called from the kitchen.

He quickly put the ring in his pocket, running back into the kitchen in an attempt to play it cool.

"Yeah, sounds like a great deal!" He said, moving back to the counter.

"What did May need your help with?" She asked.

Peter shrugged, "oh she just needed me to move the couch. Something of her's rolled underneath there."

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. Whatever caused her not to question him, Peter was thankful for it.

His arms quickly found themselves wrapped around her waist again.

"I love you Sunshine," He murmured into her hair.

She paused, her hands stilling. She titled her back back so she could look into his eyes.

"I love you too Peter. Now are you gonna just stand and stare or help me roll out this dough?"

Peter laughed, "Dough rolling assistant reporting for duty!"

She shook her head, though that soft smile still remained.

His own little ray of sun.

-----------------------------------------

8K words later and here we are! Thank you for all the kind words and comments!!! I do want to write a little more for these two and hopefully can do so after my vacation! I hope you enjoyed this journey. Don't be afraid to share your favorite bits!

@rae-gar-targaryen @blooming-violets @liz-allyn @fantasticcopeaglepasta @harrysbabygirl @impossible-ozzie @boarmaskedbastard @everything163 @jrjlc

@papaya-047 @realspideyspice @odilevonbrekker @decadentpaperduck @letmeplaytheliontoo

@abibliophobiaa @mrshipsmcgee @gratefulstranger

@shaded-echoes-recs

#fairy princess rae #comment reblog

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