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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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flashing lights

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only, brief smut, p in v sex, model!reader (a bit of influencer too but primarily a model), soft rafe, marriage, pregnancy

“so thats your new girl?” topper asks, eyes on you as you twirl to the music, long legs on show in the simple black dress.

“yeah, shes here for a month on vacation.” rafes also looking at you, unable to let his gaze stray, in case a man comes up and attempts to dance with you. you may not be an official item yet, considering you only met a couple days ago, but rafe is determined to spend the entire month that you’re here with you, and not let any other men pull your focus away.

“she looks so familiar.” the voice rings out before rafe even realizes that there's other people now sat in the circle of chairs and couches, too wrapped up in you.

the girl, who rafe recognizes from high school, begins to tap on her phone. “wait, shes a model.” “yeah, she told me.” rafe shrugs it off. he could have guessed your profession anyways, with how naturally stunning you are, and your height almost rivaling his, only a few inches shorter.

“no, like really famous model.” the girl turns her phone towards rafe, and he hates having to drag his eyes away from you to look at the screen, pulled open to a google search of your name.

“holy shit!” topper says for rafe, taking the phone from the girl as he clicks the first link to open up your instagram. “she has 20 MILLION followers, rafe.”

rafe glances from the phone to you as you turn to smile at him, still dancing to the music, glad to be free of all the attention and camera flashes. its why you chose the outer banks in the first place, somewhere more tucked away to take a month away from the spotlight.

“why are you so surprised, look at her.” rafe states before standing up, tired of letting you dance alone as he joins you on the makeshift dance floor, his hands coming to your waist as you give him a dazzling smile.

-- two years later --

camera lights flash and shouts ring out, but rafe is used to it now.

he smiles and waves, shocked that anyone would care about him, a nobody from north carolina, his only claim to fame is being your boyfriend, for a little over two years now.

rafe walks inside, having enough of the screaming and crowds as he takes in the area, chairs set up along a runway, a large prada sign on the white wall. your prestige has only grown since rafe began to date you, despite coming back to the outer banks several times to take a break and visit him. since rafe began to travel with you, you’ve gone from paris to milan to new york to london, gracing the covers of magazines and walking runways.

he tries to attend every show, taking on a pseudo-management role himself. your favorite part is dressing rafe in the mornings, having received clothing from so many brands, both mens and womens fit. rafe lets you choose, knowing you have the eye for fashion, and he loves to see how happy you get when he wears your outfit.

rafe walks through the seats until he finds the one with his name on it, front row. he sits down, scrolling on his phone as people begin to file in until the room is packed full.

he waits as the show begins, models walking down the runway. they don’t shine to him, not like you do when you step out, your face blank in the typical model expression as you strut down the runway, dressed in all denim with a pair of chunky sunglasses on your nose.

rafe is in awe every time he sees you work, whether its watching your fluid poses during a photoshoot or your long legs stomping down a runway.

he waits with bated breath for your second outfit, changing into a slouchy menswear-esque ensemble, only pulled in at your waist as the fabric swishes around your ankles.

he claps when everyone steps out for the final walk, but he doesn’t cheer for the designer, even if it is prada, as he makes eye contact with you, only ever a brief glance while you're walking the runway, knowing if you look for too long you will become entranced with his handsomeness.

rafe waits for you after the show along with some of the other family members or partners of the models, long after all the celebrities have gone, either to an afterparty or on to a different show.

“hey baby.” rafe smiles when you step out, hair still slicked up in a ponytail, face caked with makeup, but now in a pair of loose jeans and a plain white crop top.

“hi handsome.” you coo, pressing your lips against rafes. “did you like the show?” “i liked you in the show.” rafe says pointedly, making you blush. “are we going to the afterparty?” “nah.” you shake your head. “i have that carolina herrera show in the morning, and i want to spend some time with you.”

“i’ll never argue against spending alone time with you.” rafe says, slotting his arm around your waist as you exit the building, surprised when photographers are still waiting outside. you wave briefly before rushing towards the car, knowing the picture of you and rafe are bound to be spread all over instagram and pinterest before you even make it back to your hotel room.

“rafe, i’ve got a question.” you hum, stepping out onto the balcony, eyes looking to the ocean. you’re on a paid for vacation by a makeup brand, simply wanting a couple instagram story posts using their products in a get ready with me. you are supposed to be relaxing the rest of the time, but you crept onto your phone to read the latest email from your agent.

“what is it babe?” rafe asks as he pulls you down onto his lap, scantily dressed in only his swimsuit, not that you have worn much other than a bikini this whole trip.

“what would you think about me doing a lingerie photoshoot?” you haven’t accepted any jobs that would call for you to show off a lot of skin or be paired with a male model since you started dating rafe, lucky to be in a place to reject jobs.

“who is it for?” rafe asks.

“calvin klein. i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t them.” you admit. you find their style of black and white classic photos far more tasteful than traditional lingerie pictures.

“as long as i can be there during the shoot.” rafe says. he’s taken the role of your advocate and protector during photoshoots, easily able to read your face and speak up for you if needed, considering sometimes the models voice gets drowned out.

“of course.” you nod.

“then absolutely.” rafe pulls you in closer to his body. “i need a new lockscreen anyways.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you as you turn towards the ocean, watching the waves roll onto the sand.

you step out behind the curtain, a tight fitting sports bra contrasting the loose jeans, slung open and zipper undone to show off your underwear as well as the calvin klein jeans.

you look over to rafe, who has his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as his eyes skate down your bare torso.

you most over to the white backdrop as the photographer begins to test the lighting, taking occasional snaps as things are adjusted.

the photoshoot is run just like any other and you’re finished faster than expected considering they’re solo shots and no change in location or background.

you keep the underwear and jeans on, simply throwing on a sweatshirt before getting into the taxi home with rafe, this time to your new york city apartment, having collected various homes and apartments around the world, depending on wherever you were doing business at the time. you consider the outer banks home though, returning every extended break with rafe.

“did you like the shoot?” you ask when you get home, rafe laying on bed while you tug the sweatshirt and jeans off, leaving you in just the calvin klein bra and panties.

“get over here.” rafe says, not caring about your question. he’s been desperate for you since you appeared from behind the curtain, not even trying to hide it as he watched the photoshoot, your eyes occasionally moving to him, giving him reassurance you were still good.

rafe makes you keep the underwear on, simply pulling it to the side once he’s got your back against the mattress to slide his cock deep inside of you. you push the sports bra up to let your breasts free, rafes palm instantly coming to cover your tit as he thrusts into you.

“i think you should do more shoots like that.” rafe says with a moan, cock pulsing inside of you.

“its nice to be back home.” you sigh, quickly applying some makeup, mostly just mascara and a glowy primer.

“agreed.” rafe kisses your shoulder, watching over your shoulder as you finish and then adjust your white dress, having decided to take a couple pictures on the beach for you to post as well as just enjoy a walk on the sand.

“alright, i’m ready.” you hum as you slip on your sandals. you lace your fingers with rafes before stepping out the back door. “you look handsome by the way.”

the suns golden light illuminates his skin. his outfit is simple, closer to what he wore before the fame. a simple white button down, loose fitting and you are sure would look delicious unbuttoned, showing off his muscles.

“thank you baby.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, leading you down the beach until you come across a picnic set up. you glance around before realizing its for you.

“oh my god, its just like our first date!” you gush, stepping away from rafe to look at the spread.

“before we eat, i have a question to ask you.” you turn around to realize that rafe is on one knee, a velvet jewelry box in his hand.

“oh, rafe.” you press your hand to your mouth, tears already coming to your eyes as he opens the box, revealing a sparkling diamond ring. “will you marry me?”

“how am i supposed to look good next to a literal model?” rafe asks as he looks towards the camera, looking almost nervous for once in his life.

“we’ve taken pictures together before rafe.” you roll your eyes, adjusting your wedding dress. it’s actually four weeks after your wedding, but you wanted to get professional photos done with your new husband and asked one of your photographer friends who was more than willing to let you into their studio if they could post some of the photos on their instagram and website.

“mirror selfies and shit, this is more serious.” rafe says as you tug him over to the backdrop.

“you look so handsome, babe. don’t worry.” you smooth your hands over his shoulders. “just think back to our wedding day, we took so many pictures then.”

“i was too distracted by how excited i was to marry you.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, the oscar de larenta dress you ended up deciding on being off the shoulder. it was a simple dress, but the closer you got you realized how intricate the lace detail is. “you look just like you did on our wedding day though, baby. the makeup artists did a great job.”

“just tanner.” you joke, having gone on your honeymoon already.

you look as the photographer begins to set up their lens, before you turn to whisper to rafe. “you can’t tell?” you question, pressing your hand to your stomach. you know there’s no way you’d already begin to show, considering your baby is no bigger than a seed, but that doesn’t stop you from getting worried about your pregnancy being discovered early.

“not at all.” rafe shakes his head, but can’t hide the smirk that comes to his face, knowing your tummy will soon swell with his child, having made sure of it many times on the honeymoon.

“i was thinking about how we could announce the baby.” you tell rafe as you pad into the kitchen. he’s still making the decaf coffee you were absolutely craving, more syrup and milk than coffee.

“how?” he hums, glancing over at you as you lean against the counter, rubbing your stomach, bump now obvious as you’re over 6 months along. you have managed to keep it a secret so far, saying you were taking a break from modeling to focus on your new marriage. there is of course a lot of speculation that you are pregnant, but it is to be expected.

“calvin klein shoot. like before, except i’ve got a big ol’ bump.” you laugh as rafe finishes you coffee off with some whip cream before sliding the mug to you. “and you can be in it too.”

rafe rolls his eyes as you giggle. “come on! the girls love you, you’re so handsome.”

“i’m not a model.” rafe argues back, but he already knows he’s going to agree, he’d do anything for you, his pregnant wife.

“yeah, but you’re hot like a model.” you shrug, taking a sip of coffee.

“i think this is just an excuse to get me shirtless and in underwear.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss to your upper lip, cleaning off the whip cream that sat on your cupids bow.

“yeah, and what about it?”

“you know theres some hormone to make women forget the pain of birth?” you hum to rafe, keeping your voice soft. “because if you remembered then no one would never do it again.”

“really?” rafe whispers, his voice also hushed as to not wake the sleeping newborn cuddled up in his arms, wrapped in a soft hospital banket.

“yeah.” you nod. “but i don’t wanna forget a moment of this.”

“im sure you wont baby.” rafe kisses your head as your tiny daughter squirms in his arms, letting out a yawn in her slumber. “i suppose i need to use a different name for you now that we’ve got an actual baby.”

you giggle, resting your head against rafes shoulder as you look down on your perfect little girl, already an adorable mixture of you and rafe.

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heartsofminds · 6 months ago

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if you could see my thoughts, you would see our faces

“I do a lot of things you don’t do. Doesn’t mean you should be knockin’ yourself out to try ‘em.” or Carmy takes an impromptu smoke break and you're begging him for a drag.

A/N: just a sweet little blurb that's been sitting in my back pocket for a while. hope y'all love it as much as i loved writing it!

Smoke breaks never last forever.

The cacophonic slam of a door, the pliable edges of a pack of American Spirits, the grooves of a lighter’s spark wheel, the mix of brisk Chicago wind smacking your face, and the heat of a silently shameful cigarette caressing it in a false sleeve of comfort – The world is silent during a smoke break.

Until the door opens and someone asks to bum a light. Or until you get called back in because everyone and their goddamn mother in River North decides to come in to try the dinner special, yet pretend like they’re actually fucking curious to know what you think the best thing on the menu is. Or until the ignored panic in the back of your mind knocks the wind out of you when taking a particularly long drag that leaves you stifling a deep and hearty cough.

The small moment of peace before it all still remains good. The moment of peace is fine. The moment of peace is all you can afford to get sometimes.

A smoke break never lasts forever, but the temporary solace it provides is enough for Carmen, whose brain never seems to stop spinning no matter how fast or slow the world is turning without him.

He’s gotten better, he thinks, about voicing his discomfort and finding ways to “cope” with his feelings of metaphysical spiraling. He’s still getting the hang of this whole “finding meaning outside of the kitchen” thing, but he figures that twenty-eight years of having your worth summed up in how well something was chopped or seasoned or sautéed or whatever the fuck is ridiculously hard to disengage from.

His therapist would kill him if she knew that he credited a portion of the advancement of his well-being to you. He can hear Erin tell him that he can’t rely on people to make him feel better; that the only person who can determine Carmen’s worth is Carmen himself, but quite frankly he doesn’t give a fuck.

And then he remembers that not giving a fuck is him making his own decision about his life (which he was never allowed to do before, which is why he thinks he was damned to hell to pick the profession he has), and his heart swells a bit with pride. He cares about something for once that has all to do with him and the meaning of life and living and being alive and in charge, and that idea is no longer a room with a false ceiling that can cave in at any moment.

He doesn’t give a fuck because he does give one, and he has never known that something as simple as being loved, fully and authentically, was something that would make all the difference.

Despite not being stressed out nor having a “real” reason to smoke (except for the fact that he’s a creature of habit, and you seem to love the word “addicted” even though he disagrees), he finds himself lifting the window near the fire escape of his apartment and stepping out onto the rusted steps that are less than functional and whips out his lighter and the red cardboard package harboring his cigarettes.

The lights are off in the apartment and the soft whistling of the heater helps him make sense of the foggy window glass. Chicago is nightmarishly cold in November, yet his body doesn’t seem to mind the teen-digited temperature that plagues the indigo-hued 1 AM sky.

Carmy loved in living in the city (and the actual city of Chicago and not Naperville or Joliet or Downers Grove like all the other self-proclaimed “Chicagoan” jagoffs that littered the outskirts of the city for sleep, but polluted it for play).

He liked living in New York City but he loved living in Chicago. New York was too noisy which, he knows, is so fucking ironic given the fact he lives in the heart of all things bustling and boisterous.

But New York had the kind of noise at night that was isolating; the sounds of cars honking and the squeal of the subway telling the stories of a million different lives of a million different people that he didn’t know.

New York City is the largest city in the United fucking States, yet a twenty-two-year-old Carmen could not have felt lonelier while he was there. New York City is the perfect city in the United fucking States to go soul-searching in, and yet a twenty-two-year-old Carmen could not have been more clueless about who he was at the time.

And he’s still figuring out this “thing” called having an identity and finding peace, and he’ll never feel like he knows a whole lot about anything, but he does know two things for certain.

He fucking loathes feeling lonely and he fucking despises feeling clueless.

Chicago is noisy, but the kind of noise that sends an irritated streak of comfort down your spine; the hatred of your twin bed and its mismatched sheets in your childhood bedroom, but the comfort of knowing a refreshing and safe sleep is to follow that night. It was the kind of noise that filled living rooms on Christmas Day or the backyard on the Fourth. It was the sound of a vacuum cleaner running on an early Saturday morning during the first week of summer break and the ticking of kitchen timers and arguments and laughter and tears of all kinds.

He was always reluctant to come back. His pride is something he holds close to his chest but wears with quiet confidence. He would rather die than it seem as if he ran away from New York back home with his tail between his legs. He would rather die than admit to himself that Chicago is where he was meant to be and where he should have always been. He would rather die than admit that through his fucked childhood and even fuck-ier adulthood (Thank you Mikey and Mom and NOMA and Chef David), the city is his safety blanket.

Carmen hasn’t been back to the house since the incident five Christmases ago. Everyone mutually (and very silently so as to not piss his mom off even more than she always perpetually seemed to be) decided that Christmas Eve dinner is much better suited for Uncle Jimmy’s house. When Natalie called on the phone to let him know about the change of venue the following year, he had known from her tone that another Richter scale meltdown had occurred once their mother found out.

From then on he found ways to stay away; to stay put and to put his life on hold and it was the closest thing he could get to not breathing with, you know, still actually fucking breathing.

And it worked for a while. It worked for one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days, to be exact.

But then Mikey died and then there was a restaurant and then there was every relative that had ever known of his existence knocking down his door and begging him to let them in; asking him if he was okay and prodding him with questions about any and everything in between his mom driving her car into the fucking house and his brother deciding croaking was better than sticking around this hell hole.

And it’s crazy, he thinks, how him simply observing the weather and thinking about possibly smoking a cigarette before bed created this rabbit hole of what would usually be the beginning of an anxious spiral.

Fucking Christ, I need a cigarette.

His fingers create an unrecognizable beat on the package of cigarettes in his hand and he takes the first step out onto the fire escape.

Carmen’s body weight bares down on a piece of the wired metal and it groans in protest. The sounds of tires passing through slush on the road create soothing white noise for his ears. The thin blue henley shirt he has on does little to shield the wind from icing his skin, but he doesn’t mind.

He can’t chance going back inside to fetch his jacket. The coat rack near the front door lies at the end of a pattern of creaks from your apartment’s shitty floorboards. You’re not a light sleeper in any sense of the word (nor are you entirely sober right now), but he knows that he never places that one particularly decrepit plank of wood right, and the noise will jolt you out of your slumber.

His nimble fingers swiftly pull a cigarette out of the carton. He cups it with his left and uses his right to cradle the flicker of his lighter. The orange flame disappears as fast as it had been kindled and he inhales deeply and his exhale is shallow.

Carmen had been smoking since he was fifteen, but he never really had a reason to do it other than Mikey did, and it was a way to spend more time with him. It was their little secret; something that was his and Mike’s and something that seemed like a big deal at the time but would mean jack shit the second he turned eighteen. He never really loved the way cigarettes smelled. He could hardly stand the taste and the constant health class lectures about them being bad for your lungs freaked him out.

But now that he knows what it feels like to have no thoughts in his head and be left alone in the solace of smoking a cigarette in the dead of night, he thinks he gets it.

The silence is cut in half by the sound of the rickety floorboard groaning out in a warning. He doesn’t have to peek his head inside and look around to know that it’s you. You never sleep well after a night out and even though he had to carry you up the stairs, drag a damp washcloth over your face to remove your makeup, and bribe you to stand up long enough to take out your own contacts, he should have known better than to be anywhere but in bed next to you.

Your drunkenness has started to fade and you’ve gone down on the meter from “off your ass” to “slightly tipsy.” Him picking you up from your girls’ night at one of the clubs downtown was more than two hours ago, but he figured you would’ve came and found him by now.

You have such a fear of missing out and while it’s not Carmen’s favorite thing about you, it does warm his heart to know that you want to spend time with him or that you’re scared he’s doing something interesting without you around. He wishes your ‘fomo’ was based on some issue that he could tangibly fix and not on what he knows is your badly bruised self-esteem. It makes his chest heavy that sometimes you can’t see how great you are; that sometimes you don’t understand why he wants you around and loves you so dearly.

He can hear your footsteps approach the window ledge and he wordlessly holds his arm out for you to grab onto. Your fingers come out from under the blanket you’ve thrown over yourself like a shawl and grasp his like a lifeline.

Your body effortlessly molds to him; your front pressed to his back and his unoccupied arm pulling you closer like a seatbelt on your waist. The subtle pressure on your midsection comforts you and your body lodged into his helps alleviate some of the sting he’d been suffering from the cold.

“You’re mad at me,” you speak. Your voice is small and soft; gentle just in case he really is mad at you and this isn’t something your drunk mind conjured up as you lay in bed alone.

He sighs and turns his head to take another drag from his cigarette. He makes sure that your hair is out of target of his smoke exhale. A subtle whine leaves your throat as he steps away from you and he grins. Carmen loves when you’re like this; when you’re clingy and being near him is never enough to satiate you.

“M’not,” he says. You shift from one foot to the other and his eyes momentarily gaze down to make sure you put on socks before you come out here to join him.

Even though he can’t see your face, he knows that the corners of your mouth are posed in a frown. You hate it when he doesn’t elaborate. It makes you feel shut out. He’s not helping his case of denying your accusation. You may just burst into tears if he doesn’t provide more dialogue.

Your nasty habit of feeling like everyone is upset with you all the time is swelling. His nasty habit of smoking more cigarettes a day than he knows he needs is bulging.

Another drag from his cigarette. Another exhale of smoke. Another attempt at trying to be better for you.

“Can’t ever be mad at you, baby. Not with a face like that,” he croons. The words come out of his mouth so easily; endearment dipped in honey and love warmed by sunshine. Adoration is easy when it comes to you. He’s never known a peace like this.

“Sly dog,” you mutter. The brain fog from the four tequila lemonades you downed earlier makes you slow in finding a smartass thing to say. Carmen fights the urge to poke fun at you because he knows that you’ll take him seriously.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” your words silently praise.

“You make it easy,” his hold on you acknowledges.

Your face is numb from the cold and the alcohol making its way through your system. The lips pecking a kiss against your temple can barely be felt, yet you contently hum once the damp seal of them releases the affection you’ve been longing for. He never makes you work hard for his undivided attention when he readily has it. Wordlessness crafts a cradle of comfort for you both. Soulmates in ways that soulmates usually aren’t.

Another drag from his cigarette. Another exhale of smoke. Another show of actually being better for you.

A beat of silence passes with the whistling of the wind.

“Can I try?” your voice is small with unacquired confirmation of what his answer will be.

He giggles and you’re mesmerized by the way the smoke exhales with each minuscule twitch of his chest. You turn around at the feeling and press your palms to his torso. It’s impossible not to admire him. You’re always starstruck but he makes it easy to be that way when he looks so peaceful and sweet and good.

Good for you. Good for your heart. Good for each other.

You make a mental note to tell him that he should wear this shirt more often but know deep down that you’ll forget to do so until it comes back clean in the laundry basket in a week. You need to work on that, you think; telling him that you love him when you feel it. Moments like this don’t last forever, and you fear for the day that the ooey-gooey feelings of love in its purest forms are fleeting. You know that Carmen makes it impossible, but you can never be sure. Much like he, you’re always half expecting the ceiling to cave in.

“Sweet baby wants to be a smoker?” he chides. He doesn’t feel bad when you flash him a pouty frown.

“Carm!” you gripe. Your cheek presses to his pec. You hate when he does this; when he can’t give a straight answer. It isn’t something that needs an answer, but the satisfaction of having one, of being connected to him and the inner world of his mind he tries so hard to keep from everyone, would feel nice.

Carmen’s tattooed hand snubs the cigarette out on the dish left on the ledge of the window. His fingers curl to let his knuckles brush the hair on the top of your head. You try your hardest not to melt into his touch. He’ll have a field day if you let him have the satisfaction of making you visibly weak in the knees.

“Didn’t even say no yet, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but you’re being mean. Just tell me “no” instead of making me suffer.”

He quirks his eyebrow and brings a gentle hand to guide your chin upwards, forcing you to make eye contact with him.“Well, m’gonna if you don’t lose the ‘tude, baby.”

The shift in his tone of voice and the forced eye contact sends a beam of warmth down to your stomach. He has a way of leaving little leeway for negotiation and argument. It’s abstract to his everyday life, but that was complicated, you know. When it’s you and him and him and you, there is never a need for a fight for dominance or a clarification of authority. You both understand each other on a level that is molecular. There is never any need for guessing.

His finger flicks your lip playfully before swiping a calloused thumb gently on the plush of them. You had fought him so hard earlier when he tried to swipe the lipstick and liner you had put on earlier off with a washcloth. He finds it wild that you’re wide awake and coherent after witnessing the mild temper tantrum you had thrown about it not even two hours earlier.

Carmen spots the gentle gleam in your eyes and his heart instantly softens. He sighs, momentarily taking his hands off of you and reaching back in his pocket for his carton of cigarettes and lighter.

“Fine, but you gotta light it.”

The aforementioned cigarette sits unlit between his lips, the end sticking out like an invitation and the filter hid between his teeth like a dirty secret. He half expects you to chicken out when he hands you the lighter. You always freaked out a little about the flame being so close to your fingers. Something about feeling the heat so close to your hand made you insanely nervous and he could never seem to fully understand.

His expectations are exceeded when your thumbnail crafts friction with the spark wheel and the illuminated peach of his lighter of the month spurs to life. You don’t cup it with your hands to shield it from the wind. You let it grow and shrink as you lift it up to the unlit butt sticking out of his mouth.

Your eyes watch in childish awe as the wrapped paper gives way and reveals the hearty smell of tobacco and a sunburst of ashes upon making contact with the manufactured heat. You had watched Carmen smoke hundreds of times, but something about seeing it now right in front of you kindles a spark of curiosity deep in your belly.

“Can’t believe my sweet girl wants to puff on a cancer stick,” he says. You know that he’s joking, but his trying to get you to change your mind strikes a nerve deep within you.

“You do it so why can’t I?” you huff, agitated with him seemingly withholding the cigarette you so desperately crave.

“I do a lot of things you don’t do. Doesn’t mean you should be knockin’ yourself out to try ‘em.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s just one. Don’t be so mean.”

He pulls the stick from between his lips and creates a perfect “o” ring with the smoke in its wake. A dopey-eyed grin plants a home on his face and his eyes look deep into yours.

Fucking show-off.

“All it takes is one to get addicted,” he continues to smoke and the cigarette butt starts to diminish with each puff he takes, “You sure you wanna bite, sweetheart?”

“One won’t hurt.”

His gaze lowers to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Don’t wanna end up like me. All sad and addicted to cigarettes.”

“Carmen, please. I just want one,” you huff, lightly pushing his chest away. He moves slightly with your force and has to stifle a laugh.

“They ever show you Teri the Smoker in health class?” Carmen takes the cigarette out of his mouth and pretends to examine it, faux and forced curiosity at the cylindrical tube sitting between his lithesome fingers. He’s not giving into you on purpose, you know, and he’ll give in eventually, you also know, but him trying to delay the gratification of getting what you want is starting to annoy you more than it usually would.

“Yes? What does that have to do with anything?”

He pops it back in his mouth and takes an obnoxiously long drag. “Nothing,” he breathes out the smoke with his statement, “Just funny that you know that and here you are, damn near hands and knees, gagging for a cigarette.”

“Carmen.”

He laughs and you can’t help but love the sound.

“You know, it’s real fucked up of you to ask for a drag from my cigarette that I get with my hard-earned money,” he says and you roll your eyes, “You should know I love you too much to let you stick a cancer stick in your mouth.”

“It’s just one!” you plead.

“It’s never just one, sweetheart.”

“Well, who says’m gonna get addicted like – like you and Teri the Smoker?”

“The nicotine content on the carton. That’s who.”

He’s not paying you any attention and it’s starting to ache your heart a little. You know that he’s distracted; that he’s just trying to prevent the ashes from getting on your blanket and from getting the smell of smoke in your hair, but him biting at your insistence a little less than he was previously sends a pang of gloominess through your chest.

“You smoke all the time, and if you get a hole in your throat because of that then you’re so mean.”

His lips upturn in introspection.“M’mean?”

“Very,” you answer dryly.

“Humor me.”

“Because then I’ll have to live the rest of my life without hearing your voice again and then I’ll be so sad.”

He shrugs, half knowing that you’re joking but half expecting something more to come out of what you’re getting at. “Ehh, don’t think anyone at the restaurant would miss it.”

“I would!”

You smack at his chest again lightly and he remembers how touchy and wild you get after you’ve been drinking. It’s never bad or out of control, but you’re more affectionate than usual and less gentle than you normally are.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna miss my voice?”

“Mhm,” you purr, leaning up to get closer to his ear, “Gonna miss how you call me a good girl. And how you whine when I pull your hair and how you tell me that I’m the tightest and wettest little th-”

“Jesus,” he laughs, playfully pushing the side of your face away as your teeth nibble a tiny bite on the thick of his palm, “Fuck off.”

You like to play around, too. That’s also something he sees more of after a night out. He never indulges; knows you get too riled up and in your head when it goes somewhere he’s not comfortable with, but he loves it nonetheless. Being together has helped the other not be so scared of permanence. Moments like this confirm what he knows, and he realizes that you’re a saint and he wants to marry you.

The stuff that comes along with it has been plaguing his mind as of late, but he realizes how little it matters when he sees you all happy and grateful to be around him and doing the most mundane of things. He’ll get you that ring and that house and those babies and the happiest fucking life in a heartbeat, and he’s oddly comforted by the fact that he knows you’ll let him.

Carmen’s never been the best at not wearing his feelings on his face and you know he’s deep in thought when the banter dies and the whistling of the wind takes its place. You hope he isn’t spiraling. He tends to do that a lot. You tend to feel powerless when it happens.

Your eyes study his face; the lightness of his irises, the spiral of curls, the slope of his nose. The tequila from earlier remains in your system, but it doesn’t change the fact that you love him so deeply.

“You know, it’s bullshit that you’re giving me hell about putting a cigarette in my mouth.” Your voice cuts through the quiet and he starts to grin again.

“Hey, s’only bullshit because you’re sittin’ here beggin’ and then telling me I’m gonna have a fuckin’ hole in my throat from smoking too much.”

“I never said that it was gonna be bad, Bear. I just said I was gonna miss hearing your voice is all.”

His free hand comes out to sit on the base of your neck. A calloused thumb draws small semi-circles on the bottom of your hairline.

“You know, her quality of life was probably amazing,” he speaks, “Like didn’t she have kids and grandkids and friends and shit? Health class is fucked up for making her out to be the ‘throat hole lady’.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” you grimace and he plants his lips on your forehead.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You make him softer. If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t think twice about how insensitive it had come off. His therapist is always saying people can’t make you better, but she clearly hasn’t met you.

“But that was kinda the whole point? You shouldn’t want to be like her?” you pause and the frown lines in your eyebrows write “pensive” on your face before you even realize it, “. . .Because she does have a hole in her throat. And her quality of life was just very. . .different?”

Carmen nods. “They’re fucked up for that.”

“Jesus, Carm. Do you think smoking is bad or not because you’re giving me soooo many mixed signals here,” you sigh, your forehead moving forward faster than you intended and hitting the bony composition of his collarbones.

He hums softly; part listening to what you’re saying and part acknowledging that he wants to move on from what you had said.

“Did you know that your life expectancy goes down by eleven minutes or some shit like that each time you smoke a cigarette?” he swiftly changes the subject.

You pick your head up and narrow your eyes playfully. “Oh, you don’t even love me enough to let me smoke one so I can be put out of my misery a whole eleven minutes earlier when you die from smoking a gazillion packs a day and leave me all lonely and wrinkly.”

“I think you’d be hot wrinkly,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“I think you’d be hot if you let me smoke one.”

“You’re probably not gonna like it.”

“Okay.”

He realizes that the cigarette has pretty much burned itself out. There’s possibly one or two more drags left before he has to ash it out completely. He debates on whether he should let you have at it or silently take the last two and usher you back inside. If he chooses the former, he knows that he’ll feel bad if you don’t like it, and he worries that your realization will kickstart the unraveling of something almost perfect he’s found for himself. He can’t bear to take another loss in his life. If he chooses the latter, he knows you wouldn’t even be aware that he had smoked it entirely by himself, and that you’ll gripe and complain for the rest of the night and table the conversation for another time when he’s in a less resistive state.

“Carm, you have to give me a puff from it,” you complain, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He’s giving in to you. He always does. He doesn’t know why he pretends like he has free will when it comes to you.

“C’mere,” he beckons your face closer, “And don’t use your hands. You have that blanket on and I don’t wanna have to call Chicago Fire tonight.”

Carmen lifts his hand up to your mouth and gently laughs when you go cross-eyed to eye the filter sitting in between his pointer and middle fingers.

“You just inhale, hold it, and then breathe back out,” he instructs. He feeds the filter to your lips before suddenly pulling it back. “Don’t choke yourself out though. That uh – that won’t be good and then you’re really not gonna like it.”

Your neck extends to get closer to Carmen’s hand and you do what he says. You inhale, hold it, and exhale. You don’t think you’re doing it right (and he knows that you didn’t, but doesn’t say anything because he knows it’ll make you whiny) but you’re satisfied that he trusts you enough to try.

“Took it like a champ, baby,” he cheers, “So proud!”

He pushes the butt of the cigarette into the dish and your blanket-covered hands come up to palm his face gently. The plush of the cover feels soft against his stubble-covered cheeks, and your gazes catch each other’s.

A moment of tranquility. A moment of peace. A moment of love.

He so desperately wants to marry you.

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thewulf · 11 months ago

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Not Just Pals || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Hello darling! I have a request for you if you don't mind... It's a hangman x fem! Reader pen pals to friends to lovers kind of thing. Like maybe when he was in the academy someone put his name in this program to write to college students but joke on them because he got paired with reader and they hit it off almost instantly... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew! This one was for whatever reason really tough to write! I changed it up a little bit but I hope you guys still enjoy it. :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.9k +

T/W : Self-doubt

October 9th, 2014

Hi There Y/N,

I’m not sure how you’re really supposed to start one of these things? How are you supposed to go about talking to somebody you’ve literally never met before? Although the Navy/Army pen pal thing could be interesting. I’ll be honest, my buddy signed me up and I didn’t think I’d actually write anything down but then I got the email with your name on it, Cadet Y/N Y/L/N. Consider myself intrigued.

What’s it like up in New York? Is it cold? Do you get a lot of snow? It gets awfully cold down here in Maryland, so I have to imagine how cold it gets up there. I’m from Texas so I’m still adjusting to this weather… four years later. It’s not easy. I think it’s the hardest part of living in the northeast. I’d rather run a marathon with a thirty-pound pack on than sit outside in the snow for more than twenty minutes. I hope to get stationed somewhere warm when this is all set and done.

Your ‘about me’ says you’re going into the Air Defense Artillery after West Point… which is the exact opposite of what I’m doing. Consider myself doubly intrigued Cadet. What do you do? Fire missiles and rockets at jets? That can’t possibly be as much fun as firing them when you’re in the air. It’s cool just not nearly as cool as what I do, know what I mean? Maybe a close second though.

Have you even been in a jet before? I bet you’d like it. I obviously don’t know you, but I haven’t met many people who didn’t like it. There’s something so freeing about flying 1,000 miles per hour in a tiny silver tube. You should try it sometime. If this whole thing works out maybe I’ll even take you up one day, who knows?

I guess that was my attempt at 20 questions. Hopefully you didn’t find it too annoying. Hope to hear back from you soon!

Jake Seresin

November 23rd ,2014

Hello Future Lieutenant Jake Seresin,

I’m thrilled you actually decided to write. I’m glad my name was all you needed to pick up that pen. I have to admit you made me giggle a few times. You seem effortlessly funny Mr. Seresin. Even for a soon-to-be Pilot.

I find it comical you’re asking me about the weather of all things, Midshipmen. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on an awkward first date? But to answer your question, yes it’s cold as all get out up here. But I’m from Indiana so I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I didn’t wish West Point wasn’t in Georgia or something. Why’d they have to put all the Military schools in the north?

What was it like growing up in Texas? Did you ever see snow? One of my favorite memories from this place is watching my roommate (who’s from Florida) see and play in snow for the first time. She froze her ass off but had the day of her life. She also hates snow now. So, it looks like you warm people have that in common.

To sum it up I guess you can say we fire rockets and missiles. My professors always say, ‘If it sounds like rocket science, it is’. Basically, we need to protect the ground troops from the flying bastards aka you. Although we do love our American flying bastards. So, I guess that doesn’t knock you down too many pegs in my book. Do you think they matched us up because our jobs are the antithesis of the other? If so, somebody had a hilarious sense of humor.

I’ve never been in a jet, and I have no plans to either. I don’t think I’d enjoy it if we’re being honest. You’re talking to the girl who gets sea-sick on cruises and had to take a motion pill if we’re going to an amusement park. My lil brain can’t handle the motion. A character flaw as they say. I also have a sense that you wouldn’t go to easy on me, being Army and all. I’ll stick to my calculations and rockets.

Don’t tell anybody I wrote this, but I do think what you guys do is so badass. I work with a bunch of jealous Cadets who couldn’t make it into the Army Aviation division, they’re just bitter. When I was little my dad used to take me to the Blue Angels shows in Chicago whenever they made their way across the States. Kind of the reason why I wanted to be in the military in the first place. But only my dad knows that. And well, I guess you now too. So, keep my secret safe Mr. Seresin.

I know the weather is less than desirable, but I do hope you’re finding things you love in Annapolis! There are some of the best crab cakes I’ve ever had there.

Thanks for the smiles after a long week!

Your New Friend,

Y/N Y/L/N

February 16th, 2015

Future Second Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N,

That has a right to it doesn’t it? Your name sounds good with a Second Lieutenant in front of it. Sorry it’s been so long since I wrote. Getting busy with graduation coming up and practical’s and all. It’s a lame excuse I know, but it’s all I got. I hope you know how big I smiled reading your letter to me. I read it about fifty times before I could write a decent response to you. You have a way with words that I haven’t read in a long, long time.

Was your father in the military? None of my family was. I also loved the Blue Angels when they came down to Houston for the air shows. I’d always beg and plead and finally my mom or sister would give in and take me. They’re also the reason I’m here. So, I guess we should thank them that we got to meet. Neither you nor I would be in these academies without them. Your secret is locked away in the drawer and safe in my head too. It’s super safe with me.

I’ll be honest, the food here is so damn good. I sure do miss my Texas barbeque, but the spread is better up over here. Plus, the snacks? I didn’t know there was different brands sold across the states and you guys have better girl scout cookies! That’s just not fair. I could’ve gone my whole life knowing that there were two versions of girl scout cookies and I got the worse version. I’ve enjoyed the move far more than I’ve regretted it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. It doesn’t guarantee I’ll be a pilot, but it means I’m one step closer to getting there.

What all schooling do you have to do after you graduate this spring? Are you up for deployment soon? I’ve got a lot left to go. If I get picked after I’ve got a few years of flight school ahead of me. Then I’ll really be off. Wish me luck I make it!

With Love,

Jake

March 13th, 2015

Mr. Seresin,

I was getting worried! I thought it was something I had wrote. I’m glad it’s your negligence and not mine for the lack of communication. I forgive you though. It’s been stressful up here in New York as well. I luckily don’t have any practical’s I need to worry about. Just a few nuclear engineering classes are standing in between me and graduation.

I just have a year of Officer School (if I get selected that is) after this is all set and done come June. We have to apply this April so I’m getting a little anxious about the whole thing. I don’t really have a backup plan that I’d actually like to do so I really, really hope I get selected. Enough about me though, let’s talk about you. You’re going to get picked! Don’t let any bad thoughts get in between you and your goal. I think you’ll make a fine pilot Jake. You seem to have your wits about you which is the first step a lot of people miss.

My dad was in the Navy, like you. Don’t gloat though, it’ll ruin the finely crafted image I have of you. He was a deck hand or something like that. I wish I could ask him some more about it, but he passed when I was just thirteen. I just remember he loved being in the Navy. He loved everything about it. He made it seem like anything was possible with a passion.

I’m glad you’re enjoying the food and the girl scout cookies. It took me by surprise when I got Peanut Butter Patties instead of Tagalongs when I was down south for a winter. I’m so glad I grew up where the real GSC are sold.

I hope this letter brought you as much joy as yours brought me.

With the Same Love,

Y/N

(P.S. – Here’s my number if you’d like to text instead of write. No pressure!)

It had only been a week since you sent the last letter. Sure, you hadn’t really known the guy all too well but there was something so exciting about sending written mail. You felt like a little kid on Christmas waiting for a response from him. Who knew throwing your name in something so silly for your class would bring you so much joy.

You sat down on your desk setting your computer out front of you to study. Jake was right. It was an awfully busy time of the year. Applying for your future. Studying for you exams. When you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket you truly didn’t think much of it. It was only hours later when you finally closed the laptop shut that you went to check it that your face scrunched in confusion. You didn’t recognize the area code. It was then that it clicked that it could be him.

No pressure at all text! Hi there (it’s Jake).

You grinned reading it over and over again. That was quick! Maybe you made an impression? You sure hoped so. You hardly even knew what the guy looked like. You might’ve gone digging a little when you got his name. He was cute. Handsome even. But he seemed like that type. That arrogant pilot type. But even in just the two letters you received from him you got the hint that he wasn’t that type of guy at all.

I didn’t think you’d actually text me. It’s good to hear from you.

The messages between the two of you were infrequent at best as the semester ended. But he never failed to put a smile on your face. When you needed a pick me up you went through and read the messages that popped up.

On your graduation day you sent him a picture of you and a few friends in a cap and gown with the text: Beat you! You’re also looking at your newest Officer Candidate too!

You didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Your face only grew with glee seeing his response: Congrats Second Lieutenant. And future Captain. Knew you’d do it. You look beautiful as always.

Typing a quick reply, you hid your smile away just knowing your friends would make a stupid comment about the mystery man that always had you so smiley: You’re making me blush all the way up here in New York. I better get a picture next weekend when you do the same, future Lieutenant.

He came through on your request. When you got the text you could only smile. You spotted him in the picture immediately, your eyes drawn to him. He was so damned handsome. How lucky were you to get paired with a guy like that? Your smile grew further when you read the message: Lieutenant (and future pilot) Jake Seresin reporting for picture duty.

The messages occurred naturally between through the years as you were deployed, and he was in school. Some months you texted more and some you didn’t hear from him at all. It never bothered you. The silly little thing called life happened for both of you.

Still, the two of you often made time for phone calls when the time was right. The first time you talked on the phone you thought you were going to quite literally throw up you were so nervous. But in typical Jake Seresin fashion he made you feel cool as a cucumber. You talked and talked and talked into the morning. It felt so normal. Like you were catching up with an old friend. Jake Seresin. Who was this man that was making it hard to date? He was quite literally everything you wanted and needed in a partner. The universe had a funny way of working sometimes.

It had been six long years since you received that first letter from him. He was off on a mission now. A dangerous one he couldn’t tell you much about. But he wanted you at his arrival back home in San Diego and you promised him you’d be there. Assured him. That’s how you ended up in here pacing in the hotel room contemplating whether you should really go or not. It felt too intimate, like you were intruding. But he did say none of his family would be there, they had other things going on as the mission was a bit of a surprise to everybody. The pilots were all instructed to keep it as quiet as possible.

Your hands were shaking as you parked your car in the overcrowded lot. Gripping the steering wheel, you took a long breath in. You could do this. You had to do this. For him, for you. You stepped out of the car and made you way to the dock. The aircraft carrier was already docked by the time you got to the meeting site. You stood back and waited. Watched and waited. It felt like an eternity then finally the men and women started pouring out in their Navy Whites. You’d always thought they looked the sharpest of the bunch, but you’d never tell Jake that. He’d make fun of your Army uniforms or something like that.

It felt like both an eternity and seconds later that you spotted him amongst the crowd of sailors exiting the ship searching high and low for you. You promised you’d be there. And here you were. He either felt your eyes on him or had an uncanny sense of timing as his eyes locked with your own. His smile had melted you right there on the spot. You felt helpless as you willed your brain to move but it wouldn’t. You only began to panic a little as he moved with ease through the crowd making his way right to you.

He stood in front of you. Jake Seresin stood in front of you, much taller than you thought, “I knew I recognized you. First Lieutenant Y/L/N.” His eyebrows raised as you gaped at him with wide eyes as if he wasn’t really there. Closing your mouth, you knew you needed to pull it together but that sounded much easier said than done. Jake freaking Seresin, your pen pal was really standing in front of you in real life. He was more of enigma in your mind at this point. Somebody you could have deep life conversations with so easily but never having actually met the man it was hard for you to grasp he was really real. And standing in front of you.

“Jake.” You smiled hoping it sounded somewhat normal. He was so much more handsome than the photos he sent through the years. How was that possible? Wasn’t it supposed to go the other way? You continued once your head finally could form coherent sentences, “Well it’s actually Captain now. Got promoted a couple weeks ago.”

He turned his head to the side just slightly, “You didn’t tell me that.” Almost looking offended you hadn’t told him.

“Never felt like the right time to divulge. With this mission and all. Had to keep you locked in.” You looked up to him now studying his face as you gained more courage talking to him. He was something your dreams couldn’t make up.

He nodded not daring to take his eyes off you. He too thought you were even prettier than he could have envisioned. You’d sent pictures and he’d followed your social media, but nothing could’ve prepared him. Especially in your civilian clothes, he was a sucker already. Deep down Jake knew you were the reason he was so non-committal before. He was looking for somebody just like you and couldn’t find her. Yet here you stood in front of him. You were so funny and witty and smart, and yet he couldn’t put it all into words. You are the whole package and so much more.

“You still could’ve told me. We talked enough before I left.” He grinned seeing that the tension was already easing from your shoulders.

You shook your head, “Wasn’t about me Seresin. I just wanted you to stay focused and safe. And thank goodness you did.” You admitted a little more than you wanted, but he just made you feel so gushy. Like you were a sweeter version of yourself you could hardly recognize. And the words just kept flowing out when he gave you that look with those green eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He challenged you a bit sensing that you were starting to feel a bit more comfortable with him already, “Didn’t think you’d be so relieved darlin’.”

Ignoring the sweet term of endearment you shook your head, “And waste six years of my life on nothing? Jake that’s so inefficient. Of course, I want you safe.” The words came fast, and they were snarkier than you intended. But you truly couldn’t help it. He had you relaxed within the first five minutes of talking to him. You felt like you could just be you.

He threw his head back in laughter. That same weight had lifted right off his shoulders when you snapped back at him like he was waiting on it, “There she is. My favorite mouthy girl.”

He said it so nonchalantly you thought your heart was going to combust on the spot. Your cheeks surely gave way to your reaction to his words. His favorite mouthy girl? Christ. He was trying to send you into a coma or something! Your brain quite literally short circuited as it failed to form any coherent sentence. He only chuckled in response seeing your cheeks heat up in a blazing blush.

“It’s so nice to actually see you in person. You know I’ve always told you this, but it rings even truer even now. You’re quite a stunner, Captain.” His eyes met yours before you looked away quickly feeling as though you were going to faint at those words. You weren’t sure how this interaction was going to go initially. But you really didn’t think he’d come right out and say that he found you stunning. The occasional letter and texts in between had grown flirtier the longer you had known him, but it never crossed your mind he’d be so outright with it.

You turned away out of sheer bashfulness. Never had a man been so bold with you before. It was foreign. Not uncomfortable, no. Nothing could be with him. He made it easier than seemed possible.

“You flatter me Jake.” You grinned up at him hoping your makeup would hide the darkening of your cheeks, “I should say the same for you. Handsome as ever.”

“Now you’re making me blush, Cap.” Sure as hell the faintest pink dusted his cheek, but he seemed much stronger than you. He kept the eye contact going.

You shook your head trying to bite back the big smile you had on your face, but it showed through anyway. How was he doing this? Making you feel so giddy just by looking at him. You knew this man but for the first time it actually felt like you might actually love him. You’d had the deepest conversations with him. When you needed a laugh you texted him. When you craved advice you called him. He was the guy you turned to. And it dawned on you that he never failed to answer you. He wanted to take your calls and answer your texts. He looked forward to it. He too had fallen for a woman he’d never met before.

You needed the change the subject and fast or more words would be tumbling out, “How was the mission? Everyone make it out okay?” You asked having no idea what you were getting yourself into. Jake hadn’t told you much about what they were doing, couldn’t tell you much. But now that it was over he couldn’t wait to tell you every nitty gritty little detail.

“I’ll tell you if you let me buy you a drink?” He gave you a smirk that sent nerves racing throughout your body. Jesus. This man was something else.

Giving him a curious once over you nodded, “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink sailor? You coming home and all?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll never let you buy me a drink darlin’.”

Gosh, Jake was actually going to be the death of you. He was so good making his words come off so easily. You felt terribly high strung next to him, “And why not?”

“Because I’m trying to woo you sweetheart. When I get you to go on a date with me I have to impress you. Inevitably that’ll work and you’ll become my girlfriend. And I can’t have my girlfriend paying for my drinks, no. And it’ll only get worse when I get the pleasure of marrying you. If my wife thinks she’ll pay for a thing she had another thing coming.” He gleamed at you as if he didn’t just say all of that.

You gulped before a stupid smile grew on your face. Of course, you knew he was forward but again, he just took you on an entirely new adventure with that statement, “That’s quite a bold statement Jake.”

He shrugged, “I thought I should make my intentions perfectly clear. I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And you’re perfectly you. Sharp as tack. Funnier than ever. You’re you. And I really like you.”

You let out a breath not sure if you really believed all of that, “So not just pals, huh?” It was all you could think of quickly but that did it for him. Sealed the deal. He knew he was going to marry you right then and there. You’d complete him in every way he needed you and vice versa.

He shook his head taking his arm in yours, “Not just pals.” Leaning into his gentle embrace you led him to your car where he would not let you drive. He insisted that it was a gentleman’s job even if he was only running off four hours of sleep. You’d appeased the man who was on his very best behavior. Not that you minded. Nope, not at all. You were thrilled that Jake was exactly who he seemed to be. Your Jake. Not just pals indeed.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy

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itsallyscorner · 2 years ago

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The Sour Tour | Marvel Cast

pairing: marvel cast x teen!reader

warnings: none

summary: the youngest marvel cast member goes on tour💜

a/n: this fic does not correlate with any other fics I’ve made that include the Sour album

face claim: Olivia Rodrigo

Liked by brielarson, robertdowneyjr, and 4,618,387 others

(y/n)(l/n) The Sour Tour has finally begun! Thank you (home state) for kicking it off to an incredible start! Can’t wait to see you all so soon🥹💜

view all 1,247,024 comments

brielarson my sweet angel baby

brielarson love you so much can’t wait to see you!!!!!!!!💖💖

(y/n)fan1 HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO

(y/n)fan2 THE SET LIST??? CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE SET LIST

(y/n)fan3 HAPPIER THEN TRAITOR BACK TO BACK???

(y/n)fan4 ITS LIKE SHE WANTS TO SEE US CRYYY

(y/n)(l/n) bc I do🧍‍♀️

(y/n)fan5 WHAT THE FUCK

tomholland2013 FINNA BE IN PIT

(y/n)fan6 HE FINNA BE IN PITTTTT🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

zendaya @/tomholland2013 bro shut up

robertdowneyjr Wishing you the best of luck, see you soon bee🐝❤️

paulbettany You’re going to do great!!😃

lifeisaloha Love you fam🫶🏼

(y/n)(l/n) All the love Jacobbbb��

(y/n)updates I’m ready.

(y/n)fan7 you’re the harryflorals of (y/n) stans

(y/n)fan8 where’s (y/n)scloset????

(y/n)scloset I’m hereeeee🙋‍♀️

markruffalo Wishing you a FANTASTIC and safe tour❤️

(y/n)(l/n) thank you Mark!!❤️

Liked by chrisevans, imsebastianstan, and 5,293,735 others

(y/n)(l/n) North America tour dump✨🦋💜🎸🔮💿🎀

view all 3,945,824 comments

chrisevans can you just pls sign my poster?

chrisevans please (y/n) I’ve been waiting outside for 30 minutes and teenagers scare the shit out of me

anthonymackie get in line

imsebastianstan I was here first

mcufan1 ya’ll are actual children

evansfan1 @/chrisevans don’t act like we didn’t just see you and Scott going off during Good 4 u👀

elizabetholsen So so so proud!!🤩❤️

mcufan2 Lizzie these are very millennial emojis

(y/n)fan9 MOTHER

(y/n)fan10 MOTHER IS MOTHERING

scarlettjohansson You are the most incredible person I know, what an honor it was to see you live❤️

mcufan3 I SAW YOU AT THE NEW YORK SHOW!!!!!

letitiawright TO EUROPE SHE GOES!!! Can’t wait to see you💜

chrishemsworth can you please do a shoey when you come to Australia?

(y/n)(l/n) no❤️

(y/n)fan11 outta them Doc Martins?💀

(y/n)(l/n) @(y/n)fan11 I swear my feet don’t smell bad

Liked by markruffalo, anthonymackie, and 7,204,834 others

imsebastianstan ALL THE FLOWERS FOR YOU💐

tagged (y/n)(l/n)

view all 1,284,243 comments

elizabetholsen MY BABY❤️

(y/n)fan12 mother sighting

(y/n)fan13 the marvel cast is so cute

mcufan4 They really are her second family🥹

anthonymackie Wtf you went without me?

paulrudd I had a great time Sebastian🫶

paulrudd @(y/n)(l/n) you were phenomenal

anthonymackie YOU WENT WITH PAUL???

mcufan5 LMAOOOOO

mcufan6 NOT SEBASTIAN BEING UNRESPONSIVE

(y/n)(l/n) love you Paul <3

(y/n)(l/n) THANK YOU FOR COMING💜💜💜

vancityreynolds YOU BETRAYED ME.

(y/n)fan14 is his singing a lyric or is he also yelling at Seb?

mcufan7 Ryan what—

mcufan8 Seb what’s your favorite song off the sour album??

imsebastianstan Traitor and Favorite Crime

(y/n)fan15 Bucky coded.

mcufan9 i bet these are on his Bucky playlist

Chris Evans via Instagram Story:

—

Liked by tomholland2013, therussobrothers, and 6,349,934 others

robertdowneyjr You little legend you💜 What an incredible show @(y/n)(l/n) put on tonight at LA! Your talent, charisma, and presence made this such a memorable experience. This show was anything but Sour, the room was full of love and it’s all what (Y/n) deserves. Proud of you always, your Pops❤️

view all 4,248,394 comments

mcufan10 “Proud of you always, your pops”🥹

(y/n)(l/n) It meant so much for you and your family to come out tonight, thank you so much I love you all❤️

(y/n)fan16 I’m crying this is so sweet😭

therussobrothers Can’t wait to document such a legend

mcufan11 excUSE ME?

mcufan12 WHAT—

(y/n)fan17 A TOUR DOCUMENTARY???

(y/n)(l/n) coming soon on Disney+😉

Liked by zendaya, florencepugh, and 7,034,384 others

(y/n)(l/n) Quick pit stop⛽️

View all 3,493,245 comments

zendaya face card never declines

(y/n)scloset bestie where is the sweater in the fourth slide from?

(y/n)scloset unfortunately could not find it :(

(y/n)(l/n) my nana made it <3

(y/n)fan18 we love nana😌

tomholland2013 2 MORE WEEKS TILL IM IN PIT😎😎😎🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

anthonymackie shut up

zendaya you’re embarrassing me🫣

(y/n)fan19 TOM FINNA BE IN PIT YALL🔥🔥🔥

florencepugh you look better in my sunglasses than I do

(y/n)fan20 besties

(y/n)(l/n) I’ll give them back to you when I’m in London😌

haileesteinfeld my baby girlll😍

Liked by florencepugh, tomholland2013, and 8,834,238 others

(y/n)(l/n) UK BABY OI OI🇬🇧👑☕️

View all 3,204,349 comments

(y/n)fan21 OI OIIIIII

(y/n)fan22 she’s such a One Direction fan I love it

florencepugh you mystical, voice of an angel, fairy baby I love youuuu🧚‍♀️❤️

(y/n)fan23 FLO WAS AT NIGHT 1

(y/n)fan24 I CANT BELIEVE I WAS IN THE SAME ROOM AS FLORENCE AND (Y/N)

flofan1 The fact that Flo was backstage and not at the guest section🥹😭

mcufan11 WHERE IS TOM????

brielarson my cutie pie🥰

mcufan12 (Y/N) (L/N) WORLD DOMINATION

Liked by robertdowneyjr, zendaya, and 8,474,924 others

tomholland2013 told you guys I was finna be in pit😎🔥

view all 8,345,833 comments

imsebastianstan unbelievable

mcufan13 how was Tom even allowed in pit with all the fans???😭😭

chrisevans wtf bro

paulrudd OH so this is pit

mcufan14 not paul not knowing what pit is😭😭

anthonymackie she only let you into pit to make you shut up😒

mcufan15 Tom riling everyone up is hilarious😭😭

(y/n)fan25 I’m just as salty ac Mackie tbh..

tomholland2013 don’t be so jealous, there’s always next tour🤪

(y/n)fan26 was right next to Tom the entire concert and I swear I love the man, but he kept screaming in my ear💀

zendaya @/tomholland2013 can never take you anywhere man

(y/n)fan27 Tom’s just a fellow girly pop✨

#marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel cast imagines #marvel cast x teen!reader #marvel cast x singer!reader #mcu imagine #mcu cast x reader #mcu cast x teen!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #Chris Evans x reader #Sebastian stand x reader #Tom Holland x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel cast fanfiction #elizabeth olsen x reader #robert downey jr x reader #scarlett johansson x teen!reader

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misery-has-no-company-now · 1 year ago

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To be honest I feel like California could win the games as he could easily put on a facade for the Capitol, getting sponsors by charming them with his Hollywood glamour and all that uk. I feel like if he plays his cards right, then they might love him enough to ensure he wins. This is, of course, provided that he doesn't piss off the other tributes before the games even begin to the extent that they all target him first, in which case he dead-dead.

Also Nevada. I don't feel like I even have to explain this one.

Then, I feel like Alaska might win because of his survival skills and ability to thrive in the deep wilderness. I'm pretty sure he has learned to survive months on end on very little food alone during harsh winters (this goes for all the other cold states like Minnesota too). He might face an issue if the arena is like burning hot (for his standards) though. I guess it could even be said for California and New Jersey (basically states with well-known woods) that they could be the victors if the arena was some sort of forest uk.

Keeping that in mind, the states that love hunting - like Montana, the Dakotas, etc. - could also live for similar reasons to why Katniss thought she could before the games started and how she managed to survive before taking up the star-crossed lovers facade (I read the books a long time back, I just remember random stuff).

States such as New York and Massachusetts might win like District 3 tributes; by outsmarting the others and basically being clever. Coastal states such Hawaii might win in the District 4 manner, like Annie did maybe.

Rhode Island would win by hiding. Or biting.

States where weapons like guns are more commonplace might survive if these are there in the Cornucopia; and I'm not going to check which states these are since I am lazyy ✨️✨️ but states with more focus on physical activities or even the states which win more of those sports competitions might have an advantage in this way too, making them likelier to survive.

Honestly I think that most of the states could win if the arena was similar to the environment of their places. I already mentioned cold places so those up in the bitter winters of the North could survive that way and in the opposite manner, those used to high heat (dry like Arizona, Nevada and New Mexico or humid like Florida's) could thrive if they got put into that type of place. If they make the arena burn, states with more of them wildfires have a higher chance of surviving due to being used to them. If the place is like very mountainous or something, I'm pretty sure Colorado would win.

Okay so I think you get the picture of what I mean and um...yeah

Tell me which states y’all think would survive the Hunger Games and not get speared like a kabob like Rue did

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angel-eyes05 · 2 years ago

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a spider in the snow

pairing: fem!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: you help rehabilitate an injured miguel after he returns from one of his late night patrols…in more ways than one

warnings: nsfw, fluff then smut then fluff, handjob (both m and f recieving), blood mention, an incy wincy tincy bit of angst

word count: 2.5k

notes: heyyyyy i've come back from the dead. i don't really write a lot of one shots so go easy on me for this one. just like every horny person on the internet, i’ve fallen head over heels in love with miguel o’hara. this is me giving into my impulses lmao. sorry if i do anything thats out of character idk him that well so just work with me here. i also don't know everything about nueva york and if names are different than here or something so im just gonna pretend they’re the same. if they are, great! if not, just go with it lmao. one more thing, despite being cuban i am a no sabo kid (rip me) so i had to use a translator for some of this so apologies in advance if some things aren't super accurate. ok lets get on with the show.

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Snowy nights in Nueva York have always been one of your favorite parts about moving up north. Seeing all the lit up buildings illuminated in the snow, all the people ice skating in Rockefeller Center rink just below your apartment window, the reminders of Christmas coming soon. It kept your heart warm against the freezing temperatures outside. You also loved the feeling of being able to bundle yourself up in blankets and hoodies, a mix of yours and your boyfriend’s, having an excuse to make hot chocolate, and finally being able to use the fireplace that normally laid dormant in the middle of your living room. The one con about the snow was when it would land on Miguel’s patrol nights. Your already nervous mind was only heightened by the added uncertainty of everything that could happen while he was out there. What if he got too cold while out there and it affected his ability to fight? What if it started snowing too hard and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to the apartment? You knew some of your concerns were probably dumb, but they felt serious to you.

This was one of those nights. One of the nights where you would sit on your couch, next to the cracked window, unable to sleep until you could see him come back safe. You flipped through the channels of the tv aimlessly, trying to find something to keep your mind off of the growing cold outside. You eventually turn it off after coming across the weather channel, claiming a snowstorm would be rolling into the city in about 15 minutes. Deciding there was nothing you could do about your situation, you walked over to your bedroom and wrapped yourself in your massive duvet to shield from the cold. Worries dashed around your mind about everything that could happen. Despite being verbally supportive about Miguel and his…hobbies, you really hated the idea of him sneaking out in basically pajamas almost every night to “beat up the bad guys” essentially. Even though he had explained everything to you by this point, having been dating for about three years now, you still couldn’t quite understand everything. Radioactive spiders? Corrupt businesses? Fangs and claws? Mutations? A multiverse? It was a lot to wrap your head around. But, despite all of this, all of your worries and concerns over Miguel, you stayed. Because you knew you didn’t start dating him because of his whole superhero business or whatever. You were dating him because you loved him. The real him. The way he would always press gentle kisses into the crook of your neck. How on his days off, you would be woken up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking in the kitchen just for you. How he would always whisper sweet praises to you while you would give him head. How easily he could be crumbled down beneath his rock hard exterior. The Miguel underneath the red and blue spandex. You dreamt of this as you slowly fell into a calm slumber. You fell asleep bundled up in all the blankets on your bed, arm outstretched to the opposite side the bed, almost as if you were reaching for something that wasn’t there.

After some time had passed, you’re not sure exactly how much, you were awoken by a thud coming from your bathroom. You lazily rubbed your eyes and grabbed your alarm clock to check the time. 3:47 am. Yeah, that’s definitely Miguel in there. You dragged yourself out of bed to help him out, throwing one of this hoodies over your tank top for extra warmth. You also liked how it still smelled like him after three times in the wash. You opened the door, eyes squinting from the bright fluorescent light. And there he was. You found it endearing. How Miguel was trying, and failing, to reach this massive scratch on his back to clean it instead of just waking you up to ask for your help. You look to the floor to find a bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting there on the rug, probably what caused the thudding sound. You stood there leaning in the doorframe, waiting for him to notice you, even though he probably already heard every step you’ve taken from the bed up to the door now. “You need any help there?” you ask him, jokingly. You had seen him in much worse conditions, so you took moments like these to be more comedic, an attempt to lighten his mood sort of. It didn’t usually work. “No, I got it. Please go back to sleep,” he said, still attempting to wrap his arms around himself. You rolled your eyes and walked over to sit behind him, picking up the hydrogen peroxide off the floor and grabbing a couple of cotton balls from the first aid basket. “Mi amor, please go back to sleep, I promise I can do this by myself,” he argued. Before he could get another word in, you poured some of the hydrogen peroxide over his wound. He groaned in response and squeezed your thigh to help level out the pain. “That’s for worrying me all night,” you said to him, just over the volume of a whisper. As you began to dab the blood off of his cut, he responded. “You know I don’t want you to worry.” Once you could see he was turning his head around to look at you, you turned your eyes away. You didn’t really want to look at him right now. It’s not that you were mad at him. Ok that’s a lie, you were a little mad. But it was more of a helplessness you felt when you would see him like this. Beat up, cut, scratched, bruised. And there wasn’t anything you could do to help. Not until after at least. And it wasn’t like you were a trained nurse or anything. You dreaded the day that he would come stumbling through the window, too injured for you to take care of yourself. Or worse. The day he wouldn’t come home at all. “Yeah, well that doesn’t mean I don’t,” you said sort of coldly. You stood up from your position, waiting to patch up his back until after he showered. You changed your positions to sit from behind him to in front, ready to take care of his front side now. “I don’t want to talk about that right now tho-.” You cut yourself off when you finally saw his face

Cuts were scattered across his face, one above his eyebrow still dripping blood catching your attention first. He also had a bruise quickly forming on his left cheekbone. Once you moved your eyes more, you saw his nose marked with a deep cut going through the middle. His beautiful nose. It was one of your favorite parts of his appearance. Done scanning his face, your eyes moved down to his chest and his torso. His chest was marked with similar cuts to the one on his back. You kept your eyes on his chest in an attempt to hide the fact you were holding back tears right now. “I’m sorry mi cariño. I really am.” You knew he was. But sorry wasn’t going to keep him safe. This was one apology among many. It didn’t really matter. He wasn’t sorry for getting hurt again and again and again. He was sorry for the fact you had to see him like this. If you wouldn’t have seen that he was injured, he wouldn’t have said anything And you knew after this apology as well, he would go out tomorrow night and do the same thing over again. You didn’t respond to his words. All you could manage to do was pull him into an embrace and apologize when he winced from your hands hitting his cuts. You sat there for a bit, running your hands through his hair and trying to hold yourself back from crying. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted gentle kisses there, each a little apology from him. Once you finally pulled away and wiped your face, you started to clean the scrapes on his face, this time more gentle than his back. You dabbed the cotton ball on his forehead as he held you straddled on his lap. He admired your features as you concentrated on him, rubbing your back with his fingers in the process. You didn’t say much, only a simple “sorry” if you were a little too rough with cleaning. Despite the stern face you were putting on, Miguel knew you secretly liked the way he would grab at your thighs and hips with his claws when you did something that hurt.

Once you were finished, you silently put the first aid equipment away and left the bathroom so he could take a shower. He planted a soft kiss into your forehead before you left the room. Once you crawled back into bed, you sighed to yourself. How did you end up here anyways? There’s no way you were expecting all of this when you first saw Miguel at the concert bar that day. Some days were amazing with him. Others were much harder. And while you’ve definitely had worse days with him, today was leaning on the latter option. You contemplated all of this until you heard the door to the bathroom behind you open, Miguel stepping out of the steaming room with his towel wrapped around his lower body. You were very quickly reminded of one of the reasons you’ve stayed with him for so long. The way his wet curls were laying around his head. How his chest glistened while it was damp, despite currently being tattered with cuts at the current moment. He sleepily shuffled over to the bed, dropping his towel before crawling up close to you in bed. The warmth of Miguel’s freshly showered body against yours helped to melt the majority of your worries away. It also helped that you could feel his his cock getting harder against your leg while he cuddled against you. You finally turned around to face him, cupping his jaw in your hand and rubbing your thumb across his face. He grasped your hand and pressed soft kisses into it. “I love you so much Miggy,” you finally said, breaking the silence and drawing his eyes towards you. “I really do, and I’m sorry if I ever make it seem like I don’t. You just…you scare me sometimes.” You quickly realize those weren’t the words you meant. You begin to stutter and take back your words a bit, until you see that Miguel has given you his full attention. You take a deep breath and continue. “You don’t scare me. It’s more of what you do that scares me. I never know when you’re gonna come back or if you even are. If you think I take joy in taking care of you after you come back, I really don’t. I hate seeing my boy like this. And it makes me scared that one day you’re gonna come back in a shape I can’t fix. It scares me so bad Miggy you don’t even know,” you say, choking back your tears. Once Miguel notices you’re about to start crying, he wraps his arms around you immediately. “Shhh it’s ok preciosa,” he comforts as you quietly cry into his broad shoulders. “I’m so sorry for making you worry,” he says in between kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I love you too.”

You pull away from his hug and stare into his beautiful crimson eyes as he wipes away your tears. You suddenly fall into the overwhelming urge to kiss him. He returns the kiss with even more passion than you put into it. You quickly found yourself exploring his body with your hands, moans escaping his lips whenever you would graze over one of his wounds. You drew yourself closer to him to absorb more of his body heat, though you were quickly reminded of his bare cock as you could feel it hardening on your leg. Your hands eventually made it down there, teasing Miguel along the way as you felt him up on the way down. You then took his hard, already wet cock into your hands, caressing every ridge you could find on it. You could hear more moans exit his mouth and slide into yours as you handled him like putty. He would let out messier sounds, even a growl at one point, and jerk forward into your hand when you would tease around his tip. “F-fuck baby. Y-you’re s-so good to me. ‘N pr-retty too,” he would blurb out Feeling his cock get increasingly hard in your hand began to make you slightly wet as well. This only increased as Miguel began to take off your underwear as well, sliding two of his fingers into your pussy and placing his thumb to draw circles onto your clit. Your grip on his length becomes lazy and sloppy as you’re stimulated as well. You’re surprised at how quickly Miguel is able to find your clit, but then again you expect him to know your body so well after three years. After both of you have been at it for a while, you’re the first one to get close to your orgasm. “Fuck M-Miggy, I-I’m gonna cum,” you manage to moan out. His kisses on you get sloppy as he reaches his as well. It’s over for you once he begins to put more pressure onto your core. You let out an inhuman noise as your stomach fills with the white heat of your orgasm, shaking your entire body. Miguel takes his fingers out of your entrance and licks your cum off of his fingers. It’s then over for him when you eventually put the pressure of your fingers onto his cock. You hand is then covered in his cum once he reaches his climax in your fist, moaning intensely into the air. While he’s in the middle of his orgasm, his claws pop out of his fingers and into your hips and underneath your thigh where his hands are placed. Then, he lets out his fangs and uses them to leave hickeys into your neck, making sure not to let out any of his poison while doing so. “Just stay here with me Miggy,” you sigh out, his fangs deep into your neck. “You don’t ever need to go back out there again. Just stay here with me forever.” He simply nods at first, still sucking into your neck. Once he lets go and and begins to calm down, he responds with “Forever and always mi corazón,” whispering the words into your ear as he lays more kisses along your collarbone and neck.

You stare outside the window at the falling snow, hoping this time he’ll keep his word, but knowing deep down that he wasn’t going to. But for now, you could just appreciate your time with him now. He was all yours right now. Everything. And that was enough.

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A/N: uhhhh sorry but i didn't feel like proofreading this cause its super late for me rn sorry not sorry lmao

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #x reader #smut #marvel smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse

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hellsburners · 1 year ago

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best mistake

summary: you're new york's hero: spider-man. your roommate peter is the brains behind it all and the love of your life and he doesn't even know it. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male reader word count: 1.6k warnings: unprotected s3x, blowjobs, casual hooking up. a/n: i'm back? (based on this amazing prompt)

masterlist | more peter parker

Peter hears a loud thud from his window. It was dark outside, the clock on his desk reading past midnight, the city more quiet.

He peers on the glass, a dark figure resting its head on the pane. He gently lifts the window, your body slumping on his arms, your face bruised and bloody. He carries you to the bed, your suit all tattered and dirtied. Peter runs to the bathroom to get a basin of warm water and a towel.

He takes his time to wipe the blood from your face, gently wiping it on your soft skin, and brushing your hair away from your face. His eyes wander to your face, a familiar one, a face he’s seen ever since he was a kid, but now much older.

He takes the medical kit under his bed, gently moving you so he can remove your ruined suit. His calloused skater hands brush your chest with the damp cloth, scrubbing away the dried blood crusting your wounds. He applied a salve on some of the cuts to prevent infection, the bigger gashes he stitched.

The two of you have been doing this for eight years now. You, the web-slinger, protector of the city, while Peter, the brains behind your crusade. He came up with the idea of making the web-shooters, his bio-engineer degree with your experience as a research scientist in aerophysics helped hand-in-hand in keeping the city safe.

You turned in your sleep, groaning from the pain. “Hey, easy up tiger your wounds are still fresh,” he said, helping you prop yourself up on his bed.

“How long have I passed out?” you said, noticing your suit was pulled down to your waist.

“Just a couple of minutes,” he said. “Saw you on the TV.”

“Yeah, that Electro guy short-circuited my web-shooters,”

“About that, I sketched up a new prototype that could be resistant to his attacks,” he said, gesturing at his messy table with his new creation. “I also made some tweaks on the web fluid, I increased the tensile strength so they can withstand greater velocities.”

Peter’s eyes glimmered as he talked about the new shooters. Your mouth lifted into a smile as he continued to ramble. “What do you think?” he said, “Did you even listen?”

“Yeah—increased tensile strength blah blah,” you uttered. “How’s the job hunt by the way?”

“Terrible. I did sell some pictures to the bugle,” he said. “Jameson gave me $350.”

“$350? That’s not even enough for groceries and the electricity bill.”

“Well it’s better than nothing,” he said, taking his glasses off. “I saw Gwen earlier.”

Oh. Peter’s high school ex. You diverted your gaze away from his, finding the city lights outside the window was a distraction. You felt your chest tighten, your heartbeat much louder.

For the fifteen years you’ve known Peter Parker, you’ve also fallen in love with him. The two of you have shared some casual encounters here and there but you knew it was never serious. So the idea of him meeting his greatest love made you uncomfortable.

Peter noticed the way your attention left his, your eyes hooded as you stared far away. He noticed your hand clutch on the sheets, your jaw clenched. “She got engaged recently,” your muscles relaxing. Oh, you said. “Yeah, to some rich socialite from the Upper East Side.”

“Good for her,” you whispered.

“Have you thought about something like that?”

“Marrying a rich man?” you chuckled.

“No, just marrying,” he uttered, the corner of his lips lifting north. His fingers trace your skin, drawing circles. You let him.

“Not at all. I guess I’m gonna be broke my whole life,” you try to get up, your back betraying you. You stagger for a bit, your hand finding Peter’s shoulder for stabilization. He stands as well, his large hands around your bare waist.

Your breaths were close—too close. You could feel his heat, his warm musky scent, his brown eyes set on yours. He bends his spine so he can reach your face closer, his pink lips hovering off yours.

You pull back, clearing your throat in the process. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Yeah, sure,” he coughs.

You walk to the kitchen, holding onto your wounded torso. Peter’s eyes dropped to your underwear-clad ass, his cheeks blushed from the shame. Stop ogling your best friend Peter.

You find the fridge bare of any beverage, you turn your head back to see Peter staring at your ass, his face absent of any expression.

“Stop staring at my ass!” you shouted, throwing a kitchen cloth at him. “Plus, where’s all the beer.”

“I was not!” he shouted back. “And I think I drank all of it.”

You let out a sigh. You found a can of Coke on the bottom shelf of the fridge. You jumped to sit on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling off the linoleum countertop. The liquid sizzles as you chug it, the brown syrupy consistency dripping from the side of your mouth to your bare chest.

Fuck it. Peter walks to the kitchen, joining you. “If you want to seduce me you could just say it.”

“Seduce you?” you laughed. “And why would I do that?”

Your legs wrap around his waist. He takes the can from your hand, drinking the rest of it before placing it on the counter. “Because you’re like that, always making sure I can see that ass around,” he whispers to your neck.

Your head falls back from his kisses, your hands spread behind you for stability. He pulls your underwear off, your erection pointing north. He licks a strip underneath, you shudder from the sudden sensation.

He wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking it with his saliva, the only thing you could let out was a moan. He lifted you up the counter so your legs were mounted on his shoulders. He takes his digits inside his mouth, lubing it before pressing it into your hole.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“Feel good, huh?” he said. His fingers curl up inside you, teasing your sensitive spot. Your body winces from the sensation, your legs automatically closing on his head. He strokes your erection again, simultaneously stimulating your prostate. The combined sensation made your legs weak, and your arms almost collapsing. “To be honest, you’re the only one I do this to, Spidey.”

“Liar,” you let out a groan. “I know you kicked yourself over and over for not bagging Gwen.”

His grip on your cock tightened, his fingers went deeper. “Aw, are you jealous of her?”

“You lost your virginity to me asshole,” you whimper. “I get to ride that dick, not her.”

“Ride?” he chuckles. He pulls back, his hands wet with spit. “Go at it then. Ride me.”

The two of you were in his bed now. Peter sitting on the bed as you sucked him off. His hand found your head, running it through your hair. “Fuck baby,” he moans.

Your head bobs on his tip, your tongue licking around his head as you take him in. Your free hand was stroking his length, it was long enough that it was actually difficult to take him all in your throat.

“Fuck the blowjob, just ride me please,” he whimpers.

“I was preparing it you dick,” you said. “I can’t fit all that without some lube.”

You straddle his legs, aligning his tip against your hole. Your hands find his broad shoulders for support. The two of you moan from the contact. You hole slowly taking his length in. Peter shuddered from the warmth enveloping his erection. He cursed, he could cum from this alone.

You looked beautiful, Peter thought. Your hips moving against his sex, your eyes lidded, and your mouth agape, the sweetest moans leaving your lips. It was a sight he could look at forever. He takes your faces to his lips pressing them together. You let out soft whimpers, Peter blushes from the sounds.

“It’s too fucking big,” you groan.

“You can take it, baby, please, do it for me,” Peter moans.

He was a mess, you thought. All sweaty and red. He didn’t have the enhanced stamina you had. Your hands fall on his toned abdomen, your fingers finding the ridges underneath his shirt. You moved your hips up and down his length, your brows furrowing from the amount of pressure on your behind.

Peter stroked your erection as you continued riding him. His mouth was agape as your eyes locked on each other. You pulled him to you, your arms around his head as you quickened your pace. Your hips gyrated on his cock with such swiftness Peter’s cock felt like it was being bombarded with so much stimuli he could combust into flames.

“Shit, I’m close–”

“Me too, Peter,” you moan. “Cum in me.”

“You sure?” he said. You nod against the whimpers.

Peter rocks his hips against your ass, gripping onto the mounds of flesh. Your body draws out the pleasure from him as you move your hips. He could let out curses, pleading for release. From the same beat of your movement, the two of you let out your climax, your own release covering his torso as he filled you.

You lay in bed catching your breath. “This was probably bad for your stitches,” he said, his brown hair drenched.

“Yeah, I think I tore it again,” you breathed heavily.

It was probably a mistake. For you to continue this charade with Peter. To exchange bodily pleasure knowing your heart beat only for him, but it was a mistake you were ready to commit over and over again.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x male reader smut #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader smut

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astrogurudeva803 · 2 years ago

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#get your love back in north york

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marcelloshdz · 1 month ago

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hard launch

summary: while you're performing a concert, a sweet moment between you and marcello is caught on camera. requested by anonymous. marcello x singer!reader.

it was a late night, and you’d just returned to your hotel room after another show. you were currently on tour across north america, you were on a small arena tour, performing songs from your newest album. you were about halfway through your shows, and you were having the time of your life.

but, as much as you loved touring, you did miss being home. and the people you had back home.

you and marcello hernández started seeing each other (officially) a few months before you started tour. your relationship was still sort of new, but you’d been talking for a while before he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. he knew that you were getting ready to head out on tour, but he made sure you knew that he was excitedly awaiting your return to him.

you spoke with each other every night on the phone and on facetime, in the down time you had after your shows and when he had breaks from rehearsals and writing at snl. this week, he was especially antsy though, since snl was currently on break.

“i miss you.” marcello pouted. you and him had been on facetime for the last hour or so, catching up after you had quite the busy day. “i’ve hated sitting around every day with nothing to do.”

“i miss you too. but my new york show is tomorrow, so at least we’ll be able to see each other.”

“thank god. i don’t think i could’ve gone another day without seeing you.” he sighed.

“i feel the same.” you laughed. you talked for a little while longer before you had to start getting ready for tonight’s show.

the next night, you were finally back in nyc, and had spent the entire day with marcello. he hung out with you at your place, spending the day in, before you had to get to the venue for your show. there were plenty of internet rumors and assumptions about the two of you, but neither of you had said anything publicly. you always hung out privately when you were together, as your relationship was something that you still wanted to keep to yourself for a while.

as it was getting closer to show time, you and marcello headed to the venue, and he hung out backstage while you went through your soundcheck, and started getting ready. he was with you in your dressing room while you were changing, hyping you up.

“you sounded amazing. i’m so excited to finally get to see the show live.” he said to you.

“i’m excited too! i’m really glad you’re here.” you said, turning to face him. you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug before your lips met his.

just then, you were being called to stage to get ready to start your set. you went your separate ways as marcello was taken to his seat. you stood behind your stage set-up as your intro visuals played before stepping out into the spotlight and going into your first song.

the first part of your set went well, and you then moved into your acoustic set. you made it through your first song, fighting tears as you listened to the crowd signing back to you.

once you finished the song, you took in the applause, looking around the arena, still over the moon that you were lucky enough to be in the position you were in and getting to perform these shows every night. after the cheers died down, you took this moment to speak with the crowd.

“how are we doing tonight?” you asked with a smile, and were immediately met with additional cheers. “yeah? me too.” you laughed. you sat on your stool as you began strumming on your guitar while you continued talking, introducing the next song.

“this next song is so very special to me. it’s about the experience of meeting someone new and the first feelings of falling in love. i had a very special person in mind while writing it, and i know how much this song means to them as well.” you found marcello in one of the first few rows, his eyes locked on you with a wide smile on his face.

“so if you’re here tonight with someone you love, hold them close, and remind them how much you love them.”

this moment of your show had been so beautiful at each stop. this song was one of your favorites to perform, and you knew that it was a crowd favorite as well. you sang the first line of the song, before moving away from the microphone and allowing the crowd to sing the first verse as you continued playing your guitar. you smiled wide as they lit up the arena with their flashlights.

“oh, you sing so beautifully.” you said with a smile, as they continued the verse. you came back in for the chorus. you found marcello in the crowd again, him singing the words along with you.

you didn’t realize it in the moment, but one of the camera operators was focused on him, his picture large on one of the screens behind you. you were caught up in the moment of the song, and didn’t realize that the energy had shifted as everyone was excited over marcello being there. you finished the song, the crowd erupting in cheers as it ended.

you finished the show, thanking everyone for coming out and joining you for the evening. you made your way off the stage, and making your way to your dressing room. you immediately found marcello backstage, running into his arms as he caught you and spun you around.

“oh my god, you were amazing!” he said excitedly. “i’ve seen you perform before, but this was a whole other level. i have no words.”

“i’m so glad you enjoyed it!” you said, beaming up at him. “i really am grateful you could be here to see the show.”

“me too.” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “i’m so proud of you.” he said softly.

“thank you.” you said before meeting his lips again.

you began to pack up your things before heading out of the venue and back to your apartment. you fortunately had a couple of days off before you had to travel for your next show, so you were excited to spend a couple of days at home to rest. marcello came with you back to our apartment, already ready to spend your off days with you.

once you got home, you showered and started winding down for the night. you climbed into your bed, next to marcello as he’d already made himself comfortable.

you were both scrolling on your phones, tiktok videos playing on different volumes as you laid quietly next to each other.

you scrolled through a few videos, before one of your show tonight came up on your feed. the person was recording you singing to marcello, as he was prominent on the screens on either side of the stage. you smiled to yourself at first, then your demeanor changed as you let out a loud gasp.

“what? what happened?” marcello asked, sitting up with you.

“look at this.” you said, handing him your phone. he smiled at the screen as he watched the video letting out a loud “aw” before he looked back up at you.

“what’s wrong with this? it’s cute.” he said, giving your phone back.

“well, yes. and all the comments are screaming about our hard launch.” you said, watching as marcello’s expression dropped.

“oh. oh damn.” you sat silently for a moment before marcello spoke again. “well, nothing we can do about it now. i know it’s not the timing we wanted, but at least it’s out there and we don’t have to worry about continuing to hide it.”

“yeah, that’s true. people were already assuming things, so i guess it’s not such a bad thing that we put an end to all of that.” you said, and marcello nodded.

“exactly. now, i can post about you and not have to worry about exposing anything.” he laughed, and you nodded in agreement.

“that’s a good point.” you laughed. you added the tiktok to your favorites, before also sharing it your instagram story and tagging marcello in it. “may as well relish in it now.” you said, marcello laughing once the instagram notification came through on his end.

“hey y/n?” he asked softly.

“mhm?” you asked, looking over at him.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.” you said softly, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips. the two of you finally laid down to go to bed, marcello wrapping his arm around your waist. you intertwined your fingers with his, his muscles relaxing under your touch. you both slept soundly that night, the stress of needing to keep hiding your relationship no longer weighing on either of you.

#marcello hernandez #marcello hernandez x reader #marcello hernandez imagine #snl #saturday night live

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im-sleepdeprived · 7 months ago

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Seasonal • Pt. 3

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: inspired by the taylor swift song ‘peter’ where you and peter discover just how hard it is to hold on to something from your past, no mater how much you love each other

a/n: SHITS STARTING TO GET REALLLL (you’ll see) next part is gonna go soooooo hard omg, i already have the beginning of it written (pls don’t hate me after this btw☹️)

warnings: angst, lying, things have to get worse before they can get better, alcohol n stuff

masterlist, read part 1, part 2

Summer break rolled around faster than you could blink and before you knew it, your first year at college was over. Though it was a bit of a long adjustment period, and you were certainly going through some things in your life, it was amazing. You couldn’t wait to come back in the fall as a sophomore. This time, your place on the paper was secure, you’d probably get a good topic for the first edition when you get back (or better than last year's at least), and you actually had friends now.

You and Alyssa had agreed to rent out an apartment for the next school year and you were excited to be living with one of your closest friends. You’d picked out the place together, it was near campus, small, cheap, and perfect for just the two of you. You’d be moving in a week before school started back up.

You were going to be spending the summer back home with your parents, a lot of your friends from Columbia were staying in the city so you’d be able to hang out all through break. You’d checked and (subtly) made sure with Ned that Peter wasn’t planning on coming home during break.

On a phone call a few days after your last day, you and Ned were congratulating each other on getting through the year and he had mentioned something about Peter receiving some award from some science club. You asked him if he was going to be seeing him over the break to which he’d replied with ‘Peter’s stuck down in North Carolina but I was thinking about catching a flight and spending a few weeks with him.’

You hadn’t talked to Peter lately, since last winter actually. You had stopped reaching out first, deciding that if he wanted to talk to you, he would. Apparently, he didn’t want to.

You hadn’t received any texts from him since that night you’d caught him walking the streets with May after he’d told you he couldn’t make it back to New York. It was obvious he’d lied but…you just weren’t sure why.

After all, he’d been the one to reach out that time. He’d been the one to initiate everything, so why would he lie about it? You didn’t know but you were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Because…this was Peter. He literally saved lives in his spare time. It was hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that he would go out of his way just to hurt you.

After wishing Ned a great break you’d called your Mom and confirmed your summer plans with them. She was more than happy and told you you could just pop in unannounced and she wouldn’t mind one bit.

Now you were looking at all your boxes shoved in your childhood room. You’d moved all of your things out of your dorm but you and Alyssa weren’t moving into your apartment until the end of summer so until then, you were stuck here. In this room that felt a little too nostalgic for your liking, feeling like you’d lived a thousand lifetimes since last year.

Something sparkled in your peripheral vision, making you turn your head and— oh. The gift you’d bought for Peter sat perfectly wrapped, much to your dismay, in one of your boxes. The minimal light that filtered through your window had managed to hit it just right, where it was stuck between a few other of your belongings and you wondered what kind of sick sign that was.

Sighing, you made your way over to the box, fished it out, and shoved it into the back of your closet. The little tag where you’d written his name with a small heart beside it stuck out and you pushed it right back in.

Maybe you should just get rid of it. No, you should just get rid of it. It wasn’t as if you were still planning on giving it to him or seeing him at all. And yet…you held on.

“May’s coming over for dinner! Is that…okay?”

Something you were hoping to work on this break was spending time with your old friends. You remembered thinking last year that you’d fight to keep your friendships intact and you hadn’t done the best job with that lately.

May was one of those friends. And since you didn’t have Peter pushing the two of you together like he once did, and you didn’t have the advantage of living across the hall from each other, it’d been a while.

You wished you could say it was just the way things were. That life had gotten in the way and it wasn’t on purpose but…it kinda was.

You weren’t exactly avoiding her but you also weren’t going out of your way to see her again because you knew it would’ve been easy to just pop in on a random afternoon and say hi. Or have dinner together with your parents.

After the breakup, losing Peter hurt, but you’d expected that. What you hadn’t expected was losing May. It was an easy thing to overlook but it hit you like a ton of bricks. The two of you had become really close during your time with Peter, hell she was half the reason you were so excited to see them during winter break, and you were sure your relationship extended beyond him but…you were scared. You were scared of being wrong.

“Of course it’s okay,” you said to your Mom, who stood nervously at your door. You tried to keep your voice light, careful not to let it betray you and indicate the immediate nervousness you felt at her words.

“Are you sure sweetie? I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Mom,” you rolled your eyes, “it’s May. We’ve known her for forever, your best friends. I’m fine. I actually…I really miss her.”

She smiled at you, “She misses you too honey, she’ll be so glad to see you.” You shot her a smile and she returned it with a pair of thumbs up before scurrying off.

You tried not to stress yourself out too much, because it was exactly as you’d told your mom, this was May. She’d known you long before you and Peter were a thing, and you hoped now that you weren’t a thing things could still be okay between the two of you.

It wasn’t long before you heard a knock on your door. “Sweetie, could you get that? Your Dad’s out and I’ve got my hands full,” your Mom yelled from the kitchen.

Your heart fell a little and you mentally scolded yourself for feeling that way. You made your way to the door and opened it with sweaty palms. May stood before you, holding a bottle of wine, and sporting one of those beautiful, mood-changing smiles of hers.

“Y/N!” She barely got out before she was pulling you into one of those warm hugs you’d missed so much. No one could give a hug quite like May Parker.

You felt relief flush through your system, and suddenly, all your worrying from before seemed so silly. Of course she wouldn’t hate you.

You held her tighter, “Hi May.”

“Oh my goodness,” she pulled away and smiled at you, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know right? It’s just been a lot, with college and…stuff.” She gave you a bittersweet smile. “I get it.” You both knew what she meant and her voice was so genuine you could’ve burst into tears right then.

“Here let me take this,” you grabbed the bottle of wine from her, “come in, take a seat, I’ll pour you a cup.”

You ran into the kitchen, “May’s here,” you informed your mom as you grabbed a wine glass and moved to open the bottle.

“Oh great, did she bring that,” she pointed towards the bottle in your hands. When you nodded she grabbed it from you along with the cup, “Don’t worry about it sweetie, I’ll open this, I need you to take those though.”

She nodded towards a tray of cheese and crackers which you grabbed and made your way back to the living room. Your mom followed with the wine, which she set on the table so she could pull May into a big hug. “I know you live right across the hall but I feel like I barely even see you!”

After they exchanged pleasantries, they started chatting as they ate the appetizers and drank their wine. A few questions were thrown at you, about school, summer plans, and other things. You answered as best you could, but there was something still plaguing your mind.

“I’ll go get dinner on the table, Y/N will keep you company.” Your mom said as she stood up and made her way back to the kitchen.

You had barely registered what she'd said, too busy looking around the living room and recalling the last time May was here. Or at least, here at the same time as you. It was your high school graduation, you and Peter had been shoved into a corner while she and your parents fawned over the both of you. It was hard to believe that was the same day everything changed.

As if reading your mind, she started talking, “I know things are different now.” She got up from her chair, sat beside you on the sofa, and grabbed your hand, “But they don’t have to be. Not for us.”

You squeezed her hand and smiled at her, “Good because I don’t want things to be different between us.”

“Me neither,” she grinned and pulled you into another hug, which you gladly accepted.

“Y’know,” you mumbled into her hair, “I was kinda scared you hated me now.”

She laughed as if you’d just told the world’s funniest joke. Pulling away, she smirked at you and said, “For someone smart enough to get into Columbia, you're kinda stupid.”

You laughed loudly, “Okay, fair.”

Suddenly, your mom called out, stating that dinner was all set up and ready. “Come on,” May stood up and held her hand out for you, “we can talk more about this later, I’m starving.”

Grinning, you accepted her hand and stood up, “Good, because we made your favorite.”

She gasped, hands flying to her mouth, “The tacos?! With the sauce?”

Laughing, you nodded, “Yup, just for you.”

“Oh my god,” she squeezed your arm, “If I did hate you, which I absolutely don’t, this would be your redemption moment!”

“Come on,” you dragged her to the table. Dinner went well, it was amazing to spend time with May again and your heart ached when you realized how long you’d spent away from her. You’d have to fix that, maybe she’d be open to going out for brunch together on weekends.

Some time into the conversation, Peter was brought up. May had said something or other about one of his classes and your mom asked how he was doing down at Duke. As soon as the question had left her mouth, both pairs of eyes were bearing down on you.

You smiled softly and rolled your eyes, “You guys, don’t make it weird, because it isn’t.”

They didn’t say anything which made you hold up your hands, “Do you want me to leave? Cause I’m fine with talking about him, but if you aren’t-”

“No, of course not!” May rushed out.

“We just don’t want to make it weird!” Your mom tried.

“But it isn’t! Weird, like you said. It isn’t weird.” May stumbled, and it made your heart clench when you realized how similar it was to Peter when he was doing that nervous rambling thing of his you used to love so much. Maybe it was weird. But you didn’t want it to be.

“It isn’t,” you smiled again. If you wanted a relationship with May, of course, there’d be talk about Peter. The sooner you get over it, the better.

“Okay…good.” Everyone was quiet for a moment, so you decided to speak up for both of them. “So May, how was Peter’s first year at Duke?”

“Good, good.” She nodded. “He started his break around the same time you did, but he’s in some science program? I’m not sure, he’s told me all about it but you know that boy, he talks like a scientist already, I barely understand anything. Sometimes it’s like a whole other language.” She and your mom laughed and you let out a small chuckle as well. “But anyway,” she continued, “he’s staying there until next semester starts. They do special research and stuff over the summer,” she waved her hand dismissively, “Or something like that, but you get the idea. And he loves it.” She smiled proudly.

You were happy for him, you really were. Sometimes it was the only thing that gave you peace about him being so far away, the fact that you knew Duke was perfect for him. It had everything he could ever want, the perfect environment for him to thrive in, and from what you’d heard from Ned (and now May) that was exactly what he was doing.

But no matter how much you knew you should be proud and happy for him, and only proud and happy, you couldn’t help the twinge of bitterness that wormed its way around your ribs and squeezed tightly every time you heard just how great he was doing at his new place. So great, that he’d left for there early. So great, that he wasn’t even coming home for summer break now.

It wasn’t fair, not in the slightest bit, but no matter how much you tried to brush it off because you knew how ridiculous you would sound to anyone else, it was there every time he was brought up in a conversation.

That was another thing. everyone seemed to know everything about him at all times and it felt like a slap to the face every time someone brought up something that, if it were to have happened last year, you would’ve been the first to know.

You’d lied before, things were weird. They were weird and you hated it so much you were willing to ignore it so you didn’t have to acknowledge it. You were hoping the weirdness would just grow a pair of legs and walk away because you weren’t quite sure how to face it. Your lives were so intertwined that no matter how much you ignored it, ignored him, it was bound to be brought up again and you’d be stuck with that same gross, sticky, squeezing, feeling.

Your mother and May had switched topics, apparently, they hadn’t noticed you drifting off into your head and you were glad for it. Soon, dinner was over and you and May were doing the dishes and talking about your current TV shows, while your mom cleaned around and got dessert ready.

“I’ve been on a Modern Family kick lately,” she told you as you rinsed a plate and handed it to her to dry.

“Classic,” you stated, washing another pate, “the Thanksgiving episode is my favorite, you know, with the suitcase turkey and the backpack turkey.”

“Oh my god,” she laughed, “I love that one.”

“Actually, I really miss New Girl, I’ve been wanting to rewatch that one.”

“Remember when we used to quote Schmidt all the time?” She laughed and leaned against the countertop. “You and Peter would run around yelling ‘Youths!’?”

“Oh yeah,” you grinned, “and when I used to say ‘Are you the criminals? From the statistics?’ Every time he talked about catching someone on patrol.”

“Yes! I know he’d act annoyed, but he definitely found it hilarious.”

“Oh for sure,” you nodded.

May let out a sigh and turned her body completely towards you. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a total dumbass.”

You shook your head as you said in a gentle voice, “Weren’t we just saying over dinner how smart that boy is?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she looked at you knowingly. “Peter is smart, but sometimes I wonder if that kid has a brain at all.” You huffed out a laugh but she grabbed both your soapy hands before she continued, “I mean it Y/N, I’ve never seen him care about anyone the way he cared for you. And he’s an idiot if he thinks a couple hundred miles are going to change things between you both.”

You refrained from saying he was the one who changed things while he was still across the hall from you. You knew she was only trying to help but you really thought this was making you feel worse about it. “It’s okay,” you said in as calm a voice as you could muster, “It was what he wanted, and from what I’ve heard he’s doing amazing over there, I’m happy for him.”

She looked as if she wanted to protest your little facade and you really hoped she wouldn’t push. You didn’t think you could get through this without tears. Suddenly, as soon as she opened her mouth, your phone started ringing. You looked over the counter to see it was Alyssa calling.

“I’m really sorry May but this is my friend I’m moving in with next semester, she probably wants to finalize some things,” you grabbed your phone and gave her an apologetic smile.

“No worries honey, go ahead.” She smiled at you and you thanked her before running to your room to answer.

Turned out Lyss just wanted to check in on you, claiming she missed you and you told her how unintentionally perfect her timing was. She laughed and said she was always happy to help. The two of you talked for a few minutes before she had to go again and when you stepped out to see May, she was getting ready to leave.

“So soon,” you asked with a frown.

May nodded and gave you a small smile. “Yeah, I‘ve got to be up early, we have an order coming in at the community center and I’m supposed to sign off on it.”

“Oh, well,” you cleared your throat, “it was really nice to see you May, like, really nice.”

“C’mere honey,” she held out her arms and pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you,” you murmured, though you weren’t quite sure what you were thanking her for. For not hating you, for being so understanding about avoiding her, for what she’d been saying earlier even if it had sorta broken your heart.

“You don’t need to thank me, but I would really like to see you more often,” she squeezed you more time before letting go.

“Definitely,” you agreed.

“We’ll set something up then,” she grinned and said one last goodbye before making her way across the hall.

You put on a cute outfit, feeling extra excited about today. You and MJ had finally made plans to get together. You reallyneeded this, you hadn’t spent proper time together in a criminally long time and you were hoping to make up for that.

She’d been away visiting her girlfriend’s family for the summer and now there were only a couple days before you were supposed to be moving in with Alyssa. You’d made her send you her travel itinerary so could out your day together, from start to finish.

The two of you were going to hit all your favorite spots. First, you were going to grab coffee at your favorite spot, after that you were going to hit some bookstores, some were your old favorites you used to visit together in high school and some were new ones you’d sent to each other in hopes of trying out together. Then you were planning on hitting The Met and finding the funniest pieces there.

“Hey,” you said as you picked up your phone when you heard it ring.

“Hey loser, I’m downstairs,” MJ’s voice rang through your speakers making you squeal with excitement.

“I’m on my way down! Just one second I need to find my shoes,” you shoved around your closet, frustration growing by the second at the minuscule task keeping you from seeing your friend.

“Calm down Y/N,” she laughed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not,” you grumbled. “It’s been way too long. Oh my GOD! I just had these dumb shoes—” you paused, “Wait never mind, I found them. I placed them by my door.”

MJ cackled on the other end, “Good, now put those bitches on, and get your ass down here Y/L/N, I miss my best friend.”

You felt giddy at her words, “Ok, ok I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She hung up and you raced to shove on your shoes so you could get down there as quickly as possible. Once your shoes were on you were bounding out the door, down the stars, and out another door before you could pull her into the biggest hug.

“I missed you so much,” you mumbled against her shoulder.

“I missed you more,” she admitted.

“Come on,” you grinned at her, “we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“And I can’t say anything 'cause it’s just not my place, y’know?”

“No, I totally understand,” you nodded even though she couldn’t see you. MJ was currently on the other side of the shelf you were browsing and she was telling you about Laura’s family (you’d called them her in-laws and she’d threatened to punch you). Apparently, Laura had a little sister who MJ had found to be extremely obnoxious and arrogant.

You were currently on your third bookstore and the cup of iced coffee in your hand was now more of a cup of melted ice which was making your hand numb. You looked around and spotted a trash can in the corner of the store. As you were making your way over there, MJ continued her little rant, “Don’t even get me started on the way she talks to Laura, it’s just so fucking disrespectful. Honestly, I wanna smack some sense into the little brat.” She said the last part a little quieter but you still heard her.

Dumping your coffee into the trash bin, you walked over to the side of the shelf she was occupying, leaned against it, and frowned. “I’m sure she was a pain in the ass MJ, but really? That bad?”

She stared you down.

“Alright,” you held up both your hands, “that bad.” She merely nodded as she kept browsing. You both held bags in your hands filled with your previous finds, MJ’s slightly bigger than yours.

“Oh and I didn’t even tell you about the time that she—”

“Can I help you ladies with anything.” You jumped at the voice behind you. You turned around to see a kid about your age and judging by the name tag and the outfit, you were pretty sure he worked here.

“Um,” you snuck a peek at MJ who had gone stone-faced, not planning on acknowledging him at all, then turned back to the man before you. He looked to be about your age, with rusty blonde hair and light blue eyes. Despite addressing the both of you, he was looking at you expectantly.

“No, we’re fine thank you,” you gave him a close-lipped smile, to which he returned with a full grin. “Alright, well if you change your minds I’ll be right over there.”

You waved at him and he shot you a wink as he walked off. when you turned to continue your conversation MJ was smirking at you.

“What?” You asked her confused.

She just shook her head and smirked, “Nothing,” she grabbed your arm and tugged you beside her, “Come on, I’m just getting this,” she held up her book. “Did you like anything?”

You shook your head, “Eh, I have most of these.”

“Alright, well I’m gonna go check out, wait for me?”

“Of course,” you offered to hold her other bag while she went to pay for her new book and you stood to the side scrolling on your phone while you waited for her.

“Hey,” you looked up to see the guy from earlier.

“Hi,” you weren’t sure what he wanted, you weren’t even browsing anymore.

“I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

“Y/N, and you?” You asked politely as if you couldn’t read it on the right side of his chest.

“Isaac” he grinned and held out a hand for you to shake. You accepted and smiled, “Nice to meet you, Isaac.”

“It was really nice to meet you, Y/N. Hopefully, we can meet again,” he held out a slip of paper

“Oh,” you spoke dumbfounded. He shot you a wink and stalked away while you stared at the paper as if it could speak.

“Are you seeing something I’m not?” MJ asked. You hadn’t even realized she was done checking out, too busy staring at the little slip of paper in your hands.

“He gave you his number Y/N, stop acting so surprised.” She rolled her eyes but you just furrowed your brows.

“Come on,” she led you to the front of the store and held the door open for you as you walked out. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what I think?” She said once the two of you were on the sidewalk.

“Oh…yeah, of course.” You weren’t planning on bringing it up again at all, actually.

“I think you should call him.”

“Wait…what?” You stopped your walking, not bothering to hide the confusion in your tone or your expression.

“You heard me,” she stopped as well, staring you down. “Why wouldn’t you go out with him? He looks good enough, he’s clearly into you, and he works at a bookstore. All good things.”

You stared at her for a moment. Everything she was saying was valid but all you could think about was—

“Don’t think about him right now, you broke up over a year ago.”

Ouch.

“I’m not thinking about him,” you lied, “I’m sure he’s out living his own life.”

“He is,” she said seriously.

Wait, what?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I was on the phone with him a couple of weeks ago and he was going crazy trying to decide what to wear. And there was a girl knocking on his door, telling him they were expected at some restaurant and they couldn’t be late.”

“Well…how do you know it was a date?” You tried to reason before you lost your mind.

She rolled her eyes, but then her expression softened, “He was getting dressed up Y/N, like, date dressed up. And I looked up the restaurant after I heard the name, definitely not a casual place. He’s dating again, probably has been for a while.”

No. Oh no.

Your head was spinning. There was no way this could be true. Right?!

MJ went on about how it wasn’t right you were waiting around while he was doing whatever he pleased and how she didn’t like to see you so mopey but you could barely comprehend what she was saying.

You felt all those gross feelings from all the other times Peter’s wonderful life at Duke was mentioned, wrapped around your ribs, your chest, and squeeze, except this time it didn’t fade.

The bitterness, the jealousy, the feeling of being pushed aside, all of them so big, so huge, you could barely keep track of your thoughts. But there was one particular thought sticking out, how you’d never imagined Peter Parker, your first love, the only boy you’d ever loved, would ever make you feel this way.

“I’m really sorry Y/N,” MJ said genuinely. “I just thought you deserved to know. I know you have this fantasy that the two of you might end up together again but…I don’t think he feels the same.”

“Don’t be sorry,” your mouth felt dry. “We broke up, he’s free to do whatever he pleases.”

“Maybe,” she sighed, “but he’s such a dick Y/N, please don’t let it bother you. He’s not worth it.”

That’s where you thought she was wrong, he was worth it. He was worth everything to you and the thought of him with someone else was making you feel sick. You couldn’t do this here, in the middle of the street, in front of MJ. As much as you loved her, you didn’t think she’d really understand. Plus, it was true, you had been waiting for your day together all summer, and you weren’t going to let this ruin it.

“Forget about him, I’m not gonna let him ruin our day. He’s not here, he doesn’t matter.” You could wait until you got home to freak out.

MJ seemed to love your response. She nodded, “He’s not here, he doesn’t matter.”

If only it were that easy.

You couldn’t seem to get your mind off of Peter all day. It was like the breakup all over again except, this time, it was worse. At least during the breakup, you’d held on to the fact that he did want to be with you, and he would if he could, it was your lives just taking different courses at the moment and you’d find each other afterward. But apparently not.

You’d done a good enough job at keeping up a cheery disposition for MJ, not wanting to ruin your day together just because the guy who’d broken up with you over a year ago was dating again. Even if you had felt your heart shatter at her words.

The two of you had gone to The Met and grabbed some dinner afterward before going your separate ways. By the time you were walking back to your apartment, the sun had already started its descent. You paused for a moment, lowering one of your newly purchased books you were skimming through as you stared at the ever-darkening sky. You wondered if there would ever come a time when you would see the stars and not think of him. Hell, you couldn’t even see the stars right now and you still thought of him.

Your mind wandered to when he’d taught you about seasonal constellations and you started to wonder if that’s what you were, you and Peter. Something temporary, a fleeting moment in time. Sure, he’d told you that the stars were always in the sky, and it was only a matter of light and location that determined whether or not they shone. But as you stared at the sky, you wondered how that was even possible. How it could look so clear, so empty, and yet, you knew they were there.

The stars might always be there, but you weren’t guaranteed you’d see them. Just like the way Peter’s effect on your life would always be present, there was no denying you wouldn’t be the person you are right now, hell you might not have even been going to the school you went to if it weren’t for him. But that didn’t mean the two of you were guaranteed a future.

Maybe the two of you would never get the right light or location to shine again. Maybe you were more of a Halley’s Comet, a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

And maybe you were a fool for holding out hope this long.

You tried to ration it out with yourself. When he’d said that thing about ‘growing and earning perspective’ you’d always thought of it in an academic/life sort of way. As in, you’d establish yourselves in your fields, you’d take opportunities, focus on your studies, and learn as much as you could, about school and about yourselves.

But maybe…maybe Peter had meant something else, something more..intimate. Your stomach churned at the thought. Had he really just broken things off with you so he could go to college and fuck around freely? You supposed it was better than him fucking around while you were together but still, you didn’t feel any better.

You knew you were probably being too dramatic about it, after all, you weren’t together. End of story. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of him with other girls, you weren’t expecting him to shun all romantic endeavors for you but…you weren’t expecting it to happen so fast.

MJ had been the one to tell. For her to already have known, it must’ve been serious. You knew Peter cared what she thought (she was always sort of the critic of the group, you all valued her opinion) so he wouldn’t have told her or let her believe it if it was just a simple thing. The thought hit you like a knife to the gut. Peter was moving on.

Why shouldn’t you?

You slept in the next morning, trying to enjoy your days before school started up again, and maybe because you were still mopey about Peter. You didn’t want to be, but you couldn’t help it.

It wasn’t until you got a phone call from Alyssa that you actually sat up straight. “Hey Lyss, what’s up?”

“Hi Y/N! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you smiled. She always had a way of cheering you up, finding out about Peter right before you moved in with Lyss was probably a blessing. “Not gonna lie though, I’m staring at the boxes in my room and I’m already tired thinking about moving them all tomorrow,” you laughed.

“Oh my god same! But I’m not worried too much about it anymore, James and some of his friends offered to help us.”

“Oh, really?” You hadn’t heard about that. “That’s really sweet of them.”

“I know right? Well, technically James offered for them to help, as soon as he heard. But he said he talked to them afterward and they were okay with it.”

“That’s cool,” you’d have to make sure to thank James when you saw him again.

The two of you talked about when you’d be ready tomorrow and when you’d have time to go grocery shopping to buy the basics. You’d spend tomorrow afternoon moving your things in and you'd probably barely be done by nightfall.

You had set an alarm to wake you up early and you’d be packing your things into your parent's car, which you were borrowing. And you were going to try your very best to not think of Peter Parker.

Moving was a pain.

You were exhausted. Your back hurt, your arms were sore, and you resented yourself for being a bookworm now more than ever. Books were heavy.

Now you, Alyssa, and James were lounging on the floor of the living room having drinks in your first official apartment. To say you were excited was an understatement.

“I can’t believe we’re finally done,” Alyssa groaned as she threw her head back. James’ friends had left after you’d finished with the major things that needed to be brought up and you were eternally grateful they were there to help at all. You weren’t sure how you and Lyss would’ve handled chairs and couches by yourself.

“I can't believe we have our own place,” you grinned. James grinned right back and held up a hand for you to high-five, which you gladly accepted.

“Yeah, nice going you two,” he looked around and nodded, “this is a pretty good place. And what makes it even better, I’m just a couple of blocks from here.”

“Does that mean we’re going to be seeing more of you?” Lyss wrinkled her nose in feigned disgust and James flipped her off, making you laugh.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be thanking me right now,” James narrowed his eyes at her and she scoffed.

“I have thanked you dumbass, multiple times. And so has she,” she jutted her thumb at you.

“One more time wouldn’t hurt.”

“Seriously James?” He didn’t budge. She rolled her eyes before reluctantly saying, “Thank you so very much, we appreciate your help.”

James grinned widely, “Anything for a couple of pretty ladies,” he winked at you. “And I’d never miss a chance to get in a favor with the editor-in-chief.”

“Right,” you said, “you're in charge of assigning the articles when we get back, right Lyss?”

She nodded but she and James exchanged a look that gave you the feeling there was something you weren’t privy to, like there was something else he wanted from her.

“So Y/N,” he turned to you suddenly, ignoring Lyss’s prying eyes shooting at him, “excited to be back on the paper? Hopefully, you’ll get something better than some lousy bathroom renovations this time.”

You nodded, “‘Course I’m excited. And I don’t mind what I get, I’m alright with writing whatever, I’m just glad to be a part of the paper in general.” It wasn’t an easy task, getting on the writing team, but you’d done it and you’d always be grateful.

“Oh don’t be humble,” he rolled his eyes playfully, making you laugh, “I’m sure Lyss will give you something reallyjuicy.” There it was, another look exchanged between the two of them.

Alyssa turned towards you and smiled “Do you know that annual photography competition?”

“Oh yeah, that’s a big thing isn’t it?” It was major, from what you’d heard.

“Yeah, it is, and so is the article that needs to be written.” You tried to hide your grin but she didn’t bother hiding hers. “I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you this, but what the hell,” she shrugged carelessly, “it was rescheduled. So instead of it being held at the start of the fall semester like it usually is, it’ll be held a few weeks after we all come back for the spring semester. And you’re getting the article.”

That got you to sit up. “Are you serious,” you gripped her shoulders and shook her slightly. “Lyss, that’s amazing! Holy fuck,” you laughed breathlessly.

“I’m sorry about the wait, I didn’t know about the postponement until after I’d chosen you,” she shot you an apologetic look.

You shook your head quickly, “Are you kidding? This is amazing!”

“Congrats Y/N,” James grinned at you and pointed his bottle at you before bringing it up to his lips.

Before you could thank him, Alyssa spoke up, “He knew about it. Actually, he advocated for you to have it.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at the two of them, “Are you serious?” You repeated.

James glared at her before returning his gaze to you and chuckling slightly, “Well she definitely wasn’t supposed to tell you that, but yes I did. You’re a great writer Y/N, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, James,” you said sincerely, “that—that means a lot. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He shot you a smile that felt different than any you’d ever seen on him, it was genuine. It wasn’t a cocky smirk or a cunning grin, it was a real smile and it warmed your heart.

“It’s not until next semester of course,” Alyssa’s voice cut in, catching your attention again, “and you’ll be getting stuff now, when we go back, duh. But I just wanted you to know,” she smiled at you.

You leaned over and pulled her into a hug, “Thank you.” You shot a look at James, “and thank you too. Thank you both,” you pulled away.

You don’t need to thank us Y/N, you’ve earned it,” James said genuinely. You shot him a soft smile and stood up. “I’m going to use the bathroom and when I get back, we’re toasting to this.”

“I’ll open you a bottle,” James promised and you thanked him before walking down the hall and opening the door to the bathroom. You were buzzing, this was an amazing opportunity, so many people were involved in that photography competition, and so many people read that article. It was always on the front page!

You couldn’t fight your smile as you left the restroom and you were so ready to thank them again for—

“Get a favor in with me my ass,” Alyssa hissed and you stopped in the hallway to listen to them. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop but you could’ve sworn you’d heard your name a couple of seconds ago. “We both know why you reallywanted to help with the move.”

“You need to butt out Lyss,” James whispered back.

“Butt out? What do you mean butt out, you were just asking me to be your wing woman!”

“That was before you ratted me out for suggesting her for the photography article.”

“Oh please,” you heard her scoff and you could practically hear her rolling her eyes, “if anything, that totally worked in your favor.”

James grumbled something you couldn’t make out and you were about to step out when you heard Lyss speak up again, this time in a more gentle voice, “Look, you really like her, I think you should do something about it.”

You froze in your spot. “I thought you were the one who told me to take it slow, or back off completely.” James shot back.

“I know, but last year she was going through something. Now, I think you have an actual shot.”

Your mind flew back to MJ and what she’d said a couple of days ago outside that bookstore where the guy had given you his number. Everything about Peter and you moving on…

What if this was your shot?

You turned the corner, stepping out of the hall as if nothing had happened. “Got my bottle for me,” you smiled at James.

“All ready,” he held it up for you and grinned. You grabbed it and fell back into your spot on the floor, a little closer to James this time.

“Y/N we were just talking about—” Alyssa had started but her phone started ringing. She looked down and murmured a little curse. “Sorry guys, I have to take this, it’s my mom and she gets so pissed if I don’t answer her.” She grabbed her phone and stood up. You could’ve sworn you saw her glare a bit in James’ direction.

This was your chance.

Alyssa stepped away and you heard her voice fade as she moved further into the apartment. James leaned back, lifting his arms over his head, and stretched. You watched as his shirt lifted slightly and you looked down, feeling your face flush.

He took a swig of his drink and when you realized he probably wasn’t going to start any conversation, you cleared his throat to catch his attention. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He smirked, “Why’re you asking?”

“Well…you flirt a lot and I guess I was just wondering if that was your personality or—”

“Or if I’m into you?” He finished and you nodded. “And what if I was into you?”

“Then I’d ask if you wanted to go out sometime.” You sucked in a breath. You’d never done this before, asking someone out. It was nerve-wracking.

“Are you asking me out on a date Y/L/N?” He smirked at you and you rolled your eyes, not appreciating the blush flaming on your cheeks.

“Depends…would you say yes?”

His smirk turned into a grin, “Yes. I would.”

“Cool,” you nodded, taking a sip from the bottle in your hands and looking away from him. You weren’t quite sure what to do now.

He laughed before leaning closer to you, “You have my number saved, right?” You nodded. “Good. I’ll text you the details.”

“Okay,” you said in a low voice. There was no need to speak up, he was right in front of you, and you found yourself stricken, not for the first time, by how beautiful his eyes were. Like vibrant lily pads floating across a pond on a warm spring day.

“Okay,” he repeated, matching your tone. The two of you stayed like that, staring at each other, neither of you speaking. You hadn’t even realized how close your faces had gotten until Alyssa stepped back out.

“Sorry about that, she just wanted to know how the move went.” You jumped back and James straightened back up. She eyes the two of you suspiciously before taking a seat.

“Did you tell her it went well?” He asked her.

She nodded and her gaze flickered between you and James. “Anything I missed?” She asked lightly.

You and James stared at each other for a moment, your mouth falling open yet you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Thankfully, James was quicker, “Not really, Y/N was just telling me how excited she was for the article.”

“Yup,” you nodded quickly, “sooooo excited.”

“Okay,” Alyssa grinned wide as if she could see right through your bullshit, “alright.”

James stood up and groaned as he stretched out his arms and legs. You felt a pang of guilt run through when you realized that after everything he’d done, he sat on the floor. That couldn’t have been comfortable.

“Well, I’m gonna head out,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the coat hanger by the door and swinging it on. “Thanks for the company, and you’re welcome for the help."

“Bye,” Alyssa sang out.

“Bye,” you waved at him and smiled, “thanks again for everything.”

He grinned, “Bye girls,” he said, but his gaze was on you. He grabbed his bottle and opened the door to leave.

As soon as the click of the closing door sounded, Alyssa was turning toward you with a huge grin on her face. “I give it a few weeks and you’re exclusive.”

Of course she knew.

“I’ve got Professor Bell this semester.”

“Oh I know him,” you said. “He’s the one who’s never got a completed syllabus, right?”

James rolled his eyes. “Yes. The dude’s not that bad honestly, but he can't teach for shit. He’s absent for half the class, it’s like he forgets he’s a professor or something. And he’s always disheveled like he just got laid in his car.”

You laughed out loud. You and James went out after that night when he’d helped you and Alyssa move into your apartment. He’d planned a date and picked you up and the two of you really hit it off. He was different than you in a lot of ways and you supposed that’s part of the reason the two of you worked. Alyssa had been right, it wasn’t long before the two of you were exclusive.

He’d gone home to visit his family in Long Island for the first week of winter break and he’d invited you to go along, but you’d declined, claiming you had to spend the holidays with your family. He’d understood and was back in the city shortly after. He’d surprised you by showing up to your parents’ apartment unannounced and he’d brought flowers and gifts. After that, you thought you kinda had to meet his parents, so you took a short trip with him shortly before break ended. You’d had a good time and they were sweet people

It was spring now and Columbia seemed to bloom just as much as the flowers planted around its campus. It was gorgeous really, the trees were a vibrant green after looking so dull in the winter, the grass was luscious and perfectly cut, and the students were glowing after their long break. You were only a couple of days into the new semester but you were already feeling better than you were at the start of the year.

“The photography competition is coming up,” James stated as you passed a lamppost that had a flyer taped on it as you walked together to the newsroom, his arm draped around your waist.

“I know,” you grinned, “Lyss sent me links to the past few articles online, dating back at least 8 years. I’ve been reading up on it so much I think I know everything there is about the thing, and photography in general.”

James smirked, “Well look at you. I knew you were the perfect girl for the job. Are you taking a date to this thing?”

You grinned, “Are you offering?” It was pretty fancy, held at a venue close to the school, the winner received a cash prize and an internship with whichever newspaper or magazine was sponsoring it that year.

“Offering to go to this upscale party thing with the prettiest girl on campus? I’d be honored.”

“Great. Dress up, this thing has a dress code.”

“Will do. Can’t wait to look at some lame photo with you all night.” He leaned down to kiss you.

You laughed as you tried to kiss him back, “It’s actually really cool! These kids are super talented and they come up with wonderful ideas. One year, a kid submitted a photo of a broken camera, but the screen was still on, and on it was a picture of his childhood home. Photography is a chance to see the world through someone else’s eyes for a change, and it’s amazing what you could learn about someone if you just pay a little bit of attention to their photo.”

He chuckled, “It’s cute how much you care about this.”

You frowned. “Yeah, well it’s really interesting,” you shook your head, “you’ll see what I’m talking about when we go.”

He clicked his tongue, “They’re just pictures babe, what’s the big deal? I could take one right now.” He held up his phone with his free hand.

It wasn’t right, you knew that, but you couldn’t help the little whisper in your brain that said Peter wouldn’t act like this. Peter loved photography, you wouldn’t even need to explain to him how special it was, he already knew.

Seeing the flyers all around campus had been a little off-putting at first. Sure you were excited to get the front page topic, but all you could remember was last year, when you’d seen the flyers and took that as a sign to reach out again.

Not that it had gotten you anywhere.

You tried to shove the memory away. It wouldn’t do you any good dwelling on him right now, you had James in your life now, and you were happy. Or trying to be. You reminded yourself of the words you had told MJ that day at the end of summer.

He’s not here, he doesn’t matter.

And as if the universe were playing the biggest joke on you, as if all the stars in the sky had gathered around to play one big, cosmic, prank on you, you heard the very last voice you ever expected to hear. Ever.

“Ace, is that you?”

read part 4 here

'seasonal’ taglist: @keira-kaz2y5 @imafangirlofeverything

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galaxyedging · 13 days ago

Text

This is for the Pedrostories Secret Santa Event.

For the lovely @baronessvonglitter

WC: 5.15k

Warnings: Smut. I don't want to give anything away, so proceed with caution.

Summary: The promotion to VP comes with a clause. Will a year in a small town change our readers' plans?

Featuring Joel Miller and Dave York

Christmas In Paris

“Honeymire, as its name suggests, used to be too waterlogged to expand on when the land was settled.” The opening that sounded great in your head doesn't feel right as you say it out loud. “Now that our surveys show that this is no longer the case, we're hoping to bring new life to the town.”

The rest of the presentation runs smoothly. All the data is there. It all points to a great investment opportunity, with high returns. Still, you can see the investors are on the fence. It's been a while since you'd pitched anything in such a rural location. Maybe it was time to switch things up.

“Look, I have to be honest, this goes beyond great projected profits for me.” Like a guarantee of becoming VP of Sales with a huge raise. “I grew up in a town like this. The memories of being part of a community and something bigger than myself helped me get where I am today.” Everyone knowing my business and thinking they had a right to talk about it drove me to the city. “This isn't just an opportunity to make money, it's an opportunity to make a community whole again, to bring new life to the area and give others a fresh start to theirs somewhere they can call home.”

The investors loved the talk of home and community.

Unfortunately, a little too much you think as you open the curtains in the place that had become your home for the last year. The investors handed over way more cash than the company had been expecting, and that figure had been staggeringly high. Your boss had offered you the promotion the next day but with a caveat, you were to move to the town to oversee everything personally. Once the project was finished, you would be welcomed back with a raise, enough to buy that penthouse apartment you'd been eyeing. Your whole future runs through your mind as you get ready for your day until you are abruptly jarred out of them by a grumpy yowl.

“Seriously? You're giving me attitude? You're not even my cat, you little freeloader.” You grumble at the little ball of mixed fur sitting haughtily in the middle of your kitchen floor. Still, you opened a tin of tuna and placed it in the bowl you bought just for her and refreshed her water bowl. “I'm seeing Joel today. I'm going to have him nail that cat flap shut.” You idly threaten as the ginger and black mottled creature eyes you. “Don't look at me like that. He's just a contractor I work with.” You project onto your four-legged companion. Although even the cat could see that things had changed between you and Joel lately.

Joel Miller had come highly recommended when you were looking for contractors in the area. After his daughters moved out for college, he downsized his business and moved north to be closer to them. He'd settled in the same town as his brother to spend time with his family, including his young nephews. You knew quite a bit about Joel. Divorced single father at a young age. He adopted one of his daughter Sarah's friends when her mom passed away. With his brother Tommy's help and sometimes hindrance, as Joel tells it, he built a great business. Aside from his daughters, Tommy was Joel's only close family left. His parents passed away in a car accident when Tommy was in junior high. Joel had pretty much finished raising Tommy and then started raising his own daughter. Joel was easy to talk to while you planned the finer details of the project. Sometimes well into the night, as you got sidetracked by enjoying each other's company. Joel no longer felt like an employee. He felt like something more, a friend or maybe…that potential spiral into no good thoughts is cut off by a heavy knock at your door.

Once your eyes adjust to the figure in front of you backlit by the morning sun on last night's fresh snow, you take in the well-dressed, broad shouldered man in front of you. He makes no secret of doing the same, removing his sunglasses to let his eyes travel your whole body. When his eyes finally reach yours, he speaks “Sorry to disturb you. I got here early, and the man at the gas station said to just knock here. I'm Dave, Dave York.”

“Oh, Mr York! Hi. Er, I wasn't expecting you….” You suddenly feel flustered. Maybe due to the abrupt arrival of your client or due to the fact that he is even hotter than his voice led you to imagine he was.

“I know, and please, Dave. I just woke up and decided to make the drive early. I figured I could get breakfast here and wait, but the guy assured me that you wouldn't mind me knocking.” Dave told you in earnest.

I bet he didn't. Gus was married to the owner of the diner. The two of them were the biggest busybodies in town. They both had plenty to say about a single woman in her forties.

“It's absolutely fine. I just haven't long been up. I haven't had my coffee yet, so doing business is a shock to the system.” You put on your brightest smile to put Dave at ease.

“Well, in that case, the least I can do is get you coffee. I was going to the diner anyway, maybe you can escort me?”

A cup of coffee had sounded innocent enough. Then Reba, Gus’ wife and fellow busybody, had gotten involved, and the next thing you know, you and Dave were eating breakfast together and chatting the morning away. You had to admit that even without Reba’s help, Dave was smooth and confident enough to keep you here. The attraction between the two of you was obvious. Dave flirted openly, though he managed to keep it subtle and classy. There was an air of mystery about him. Even beyond his CIA work, there was a cool reservedness under his charming facade. There was an intensity there, too. Sadly, there were not many men who you could imagine as your equal or, in this case superior, but you could easily imagine Dave dominating you…the third interruption to your thoughts of the day comes courtesy of Joel clearing his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt. I just didn't want to miss our meeting.” Joel lays on the southern charm as he introduces himself to Dave.

It doesn't take an ex-CIA agent to see it's stretched over an underbed of annoyance. Dave acts just as politely, even with the obvious tension in the air, as he gives Joel his own name and his hand.

After what feels like forever, it's your turn to speak. “My apologies to you both. Dave, it was lovely to meet you. You have your keys. Take your time to inspect the property and get back to me with any issues. I have a meeting with Joel, our very competent contractor, who can handle any last-minute requests for your home. Breakfast is on me, well, the company. Enjoy. Joel, let's head over to the office.” Without looking as you make your way to the door seeking the air that had been sucked out of the room, you can tell Dave and Joel take a moment to eye each other.

When Joel finally catches up to you outside, you offer him another apology.

“Don't worry about it. You were obviously busy entertaining your client.” The set of his jaw as he speaks makes you think about punching him in it.

Joel is an extremely handsome man, even with being at home in the same neutral toned flannel every day, you could see him being able to pull off a variety of colours, unfortunately for him envy green didn't suit. The short meeting was conducted in even shorter exchanges. There were no pleasantries or antidotes. No lingering after business was done just to shoot the shit.

It was barely noon when you got home, but you decided to take a long soak in the tub, hoping to wash away the discomfort of the morning. The bath worked to a certain extent. After some time relaxing on your own, you decide that whatever issue Joel had was on him, and Dave was free to handle it however he liked. Tying your robe at the waist, you watch the last of the bubbles drain and give the claw foot tub a quick rinse. The thought of a hot cup of tea and a book in your cosy chair leads you downstairs without even dressing. The water is simmering when you hear a rap on the kitchen window. You know who it is before you open the door.

“Joel.” You open curtly.

“Listen, I'm not too good with words, but I wanted to say sorry for this morning. I...damn it…I guess I got jealous when I saw you with another man. Lately, I've been thinking that maybe when the job is over, you would let me take you out on a date.” For a big man, Joel seems awfully small while he gets that all out. Adorably so. Part of you wants to kiss the little patch in his beard.

“You did alright with your words, Joel. Apology accepted. As for the date, you're right. I would have let you take me on one, but you know as soon as I'm done here, I'm going home. I have to admit this small town living was pretty nice for a while, but I have a career to get back to.” It was your turn to feel small, a career, and not much else.

“I'm from Texas. We drive hours for a football game. A few hours drive for a date with a beautiful woman is nothing.” The way Joel softens for you makes you melt.

All too quickly, you are aware of how close his broad chest is and how naked you are under your thin robe. Those large skilled hands could be on your bare skin in moments. The air shifts between you, throwing out more heat than the roaring fire in your living room. The times you've imagined Joel taking you in front of that thing on your lonely nights here was enough to make a sinner blush. As if you had slipped into a cartoon, the stream whistle blows on your kettle.

“I better…” You pull yourself away from Joel.

Not having those intense brown eyes looking down at you helps to clear your head. “That's really sweet, Joel. Maybe at another time, I would have jumped at the idea, but I'm going to have so much work to do. I have to get familiar with all of our clients, not just the ones I've handled. I need to research new investors and companies to work with. It's just going to be a lot, and I don't want to lead you on.” As if on autopilot, you pour the water over the tea bag, and it becomes the most fascinating thing in the room as you can't lift your face from it for fear of Joel seeing through you. It's not work that is keeping you from accepting his offer. It's fear. Fear of heartbreak, fear of something between you derailing your future plans, fear of so many unknowns.

“I know when to take no for an answer, but if you change your mind, I get good mileage out of my truck, and I keep the tank full.” You can picture the smirk on his face from his voice.

It breaks through enough to make you turn to him. Sure enough, he has that smirk that breaks into that dopey grin he gets after he makes a dad joke when you smile at him.

“I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for understanding.” It's not on the little bare patch, but you can't resist placing a kiss on his cheek.

The closeness of the two of you as you pull away draws your faces together until your lips meet a soft, tender kiss. When you pull away, there is a wordless exchange between you with eyes full of longing, regret, and understanding.

“I'll see you at work tomorrow.” Joel finally provides trying to make things easier on you.

“See you tomorrow, Joel.” You manage a smile for him before seeing him out.

Your tea, book, and cosy chair are long forgotten in favour of throwing yourself on your bed like some lovesick Disney princess. Instead of birds fluttering around you, self-doubt flies about the space of your room.

The ringing of your phone breaks you out of a slumber that you didn't realise had claimed you. Dave York’s name is on your screen. “Hi, Dave. How are you settling in?”

Half an hour later, you are sitting at Dave’s breakfast bar as he details a few changes he would like. “These are all very doable.”

Instantly, you regret your choice of words when you see Dave’s face. The look on it makes it very clear that he caught your double entendre.”Where are my manners? I have even offered you anything to drink.”

Dave moves around the kitchen like he has lived there for years. Something tells you that Dave would move around any space like he owned it. Including the space between your legs. The touch of Joel's lips on yours and the memory of the heat of his body has you feeling a way as you watch Dave's hands competently open the bottle of wine he retrieved from the cabinet over the fridge.

“Red? Or I have some chilled white?” Dave asks as if wine is the only choice.

“Neither, thank you.” You decline while Dave pours himself a healthy glass.

“Alright. You do seem a little tense. I thought it might help you relax. Is it anything to do with your contractor friend?” Dave's line of questioning has you blinking owlishly at him. “I don't mean to pry. He just seemed a bit put out this morning, with us enjoying each other's company, and you don't usually wear that cologne.” All you can do is sit there stunned. A little angry at the audacity, impressed by his attention to detail, a little relieved that it's out in the open. “Look, I know I just got here, but we've been speaking on the phone for a long time now. The way you handle yourself impressed me. Now I have a face, and body, to go with that I'm even more impressed. I enjoyed our breakfast this morning. I'd like to explore that connection further. If things don't work out with your Cowboy Contractor, you can call me. Or I don't mind keeping you company until they do.” Speechless. Speechless and aroused.

“You know….I think I will have that glass of wine.” No other thoughts enter your head until you have downed at least half a glass of the quality merlot that Dave hands you. “Thank you…for the wine and the interest. I would be interested too. I mean, in you, but I have work…and…and Joel and…I…have to be going to conduct work and…Joel…so goodnight.”

Dave seems amused by your rambling as you make your way to the back door. Smiling broadly, he throws a ‘goodnight’ through the narrow gap in the door before you slam it shut.

Taking to your bed seems like a great option again. Laying there fully dressed, the weight of the day drives you into the mattress. This was not what you needed. Not at this stage in your life or at this time of the year. Tomorrow, you were to help with the Christmas festival and entertain prospective buyers. How were you supposed to be a cheery, innocent Santa's helper when you had thoughts of a different type of ‘ho ho ho’ in your mind?

A quick ‘stress relief’ session, a shower, and a new pair of silky snowflake adored pyjamas have you more in the festive mind before you drift off to sleep.

The next morning is non-stop. Both Dave and Joel crossed your path. Dave exchanged morning pleasantries as he returned from a jog in the light snowfall. You remind him about the festival and how important it is. Joel is helping with the stage, so you managed to avoid any long conversation. Aside from your requests from Dave, to be done in the new year, there really wasn't much you had to say to him. He was only going to be here to set up anyway. Lunchtime rolls around, and your stomach pulls you home from the bustling town square to the leftover soup and remainder of yesterday's fresh bread. The drive to the new development was only a few minutes away. When you get there, you wish that it was longer, so you missed the full-blown display of testosterone on your neighbour’s lawn.

“I told you!” Joel spits.

“What do you want? A fucking medal?” Dave snarls back.

“Hey! What is going on?!” You call as soon as you jump out of your car now parked haphazardly on the street.

Both men visibly calm.

Joel speaks first. “The power is out for the block. Dave decided to hang some Christmas lights.” You can tell it pains him not to add some dig at Dave.

“You said the festival was important. I wanted to do my part.” Dave tries to appeal to your good nature and high standards.

“Which would have been great, I'm sure, if you hadn't overloaded the circuit board.” Joel grits out.

Dave moves first, turning squarely to Joel. Joel doesn't move an inch. He just calmly regards Dave’s stance.

“Enough! You can measure who’s is bigger later. Just fix this. Please.” The two of them morphed from scowling dogs to obedient pups at your words.

“We will.” Joel promises with Dave nodding in agreement.

Thankfully, both your stove and water heater ran off gas, so you are still able to eat and shower before changing into your ridiculous elf costume. White and green striped tights covered your legs, clinging to your curvy thighs. A green and red elf dress and hat made up the rest of the costume, and it was completed with elf ears and sparkly rosy cheek makeup.

At first, when you spot Joel and Dave through your window congratulating each other on getting the power back on, relief floods you. The day was back on track, and they seemed to be getting on well, bonus. Sadly, the relief is short-lived when they see you leave the house. The two of them exchange glances and acquire matching shit eater grins.

“Nope. I don't want to hear it. The power is on. You two aren't butting heads on the lawn. Do not ruin it.” You yell at them while scrambling into your car as quickly as possible before they spoil your mood with any jokes.

The festivities went well. The prospective buyers seemed overjoyed with the place. The current town residents seemed to approve of the applicants. Three new families are bringing eight children between them. The adults include a veterinarian, a teacher, and a nurse. Two well-off, quiet retired couples. The business woman was a no show, but she did travel a lot last minute as she'd told you. Santa proved very popular and you by association. It did warm your heart to hand out candy canes and see the children's happy faces. Best of all, Joel and Dave spent most of the day busy somewhere else and only turned up at the end of the day with some booze laden eggnog courtesy of Reba.

“Wow. That could strip paint.” You comment before taking another healthy gulp.

“Easy. We might have to carry you home.” Joel laughs before taking a cautious sip from his own cup.

“Please. I can handle my booze.” You scoff.

Dave raised his eyebrows in approval before raising his cup. “I'll drink to that.”

A few paint-stripped nogs later, the three of you amble home. You are in the middle flanked by your burly protectors.

“You two seem to be getting on better, or is it just the alcohol?” The alcohol has certainly loosened you up. There was no way you would poke the bear like that sober.

“We talked while we worked on the electricity.” Dave begins to explain.

“I don't think she needs all the details.” Joel tries to laugh the whole thing off. Dave doesn't take any notice as he carries on. “You and Joel clearly have a thing, and he was here first, so I'm not going to muscle in on his territory. We've good.”

Joel lets out a quiet ‘goddammit’ as you come to an abrupt stop. “Oh? We've good are we? You two have decided that? You have decided that Joel can lay claim to me since he's planted his flag?!”

“Really? I just thought you kissed.” Dave quips.

Joel looks like he wants to take a swing at the other man.

“So you two have decided who I want? Well, the joke is on you. I want you both.” Wow, the alcohol has just removed your filter completely. “I don't have time for relationships or dating, but it's been a lonely year here, and I want sex and if you two think you can just choose for me, then I can choose you both.”

The indignant tone in your voice is undercut by the bell on your hat tinkling as you fold your arms across your chest.

Dave stalks towards you like a creature in the night. “When you say both, do you mean at the same time? I mean, I'm game. I don't know about, Tex, here.”

The light brush of his fingers across your cheek makes you tremble. The touch adds weight to his words. That's all this is right now, words. They could just walk about, and nothing would come of it. Then Joel moves, too. With complete purpose, straight at you. The kiss he gives you now is nowhere near as chaste as the last one. It's a burning brand of his desire on you. It leaves no doubt of Joel's intentions towards you. When it ends for a moment, you understand what people mean when they say the earth moved. Until you realised Dave had swept you up in his arms. For a second, that little insecure voice worried about him carrying your extra pounds, but it was left in the metaphorical dust as Dave carried you easily through the snow to your door.

With shaking fingers, you try to retrieve the keys from your tiny green felt pouch. When you can't, Dave shoves the purse at Joel, who quickly opens the door while Dave gets his first kiss with you. It's a precision assault with his tongue. He knows just the right amount to use to have you breathless.

The two muscular men block your doorway for a moment when you pull them both in at the same time. Following your lead and using the momentum, the two of them press you into the wall opposite. Dave’s thigh presses between your legs as the two of them kiss your neck. Joel's work hardened hand is gentle as it cups your breasts in turn, thumbing each nipple as he goes. The arousal the action brings jerks your hips into Dave’s tensed thigh.

“You're needy, huh?” Dave teases with his words, and then his hands as he cups your mound. His fingers are spread just so to tease without giving you friction where you need it most.

“Please.” You whisper against Joel's lips as he kisses you once more.

Joel doesn't tease. His thick fingers hitch your skirt up and dive below the waistband of your tights and panties. The first sweep of his fingertips where you need him has your toes curling in your little elf shoes.

“So we're just diving straight in?” Dave shrugs as he drops to his knees.

His moves are no longer light, but they are just as calculated. Ripping the gusset out of your festive tights, he pulls your panties to the side and fills you with two thick digits. A quick come hither motion makes your knees buckle, and Joel pins you up with his hip. With you nestled into his side, Joel takes full advantage of exclusive access to your lips. These kisses are less urgent. He delicately gets to know what you like. Just as he does with his movements on your clit. He follows every whimper and moan changing his pace and pressure to suit. Dave on the other hand has found the spot he's looking for and is relentlessly pumping his fingers in and out. The noise is obscene in your picturesque little hallway. The cusses that spill from your lips as you come around Dave’s fingers are even worse.

“With a mouth like that, you're definitely on the naughty list.” Joel grins, his eyes full of adoration. They darken for a second before he whispers in your ear. “You need your mouth washed out.”

“I hear Paris is lovely this time of year.” Dave chimes in, in between licking your release off of his fingers.

With a plan in mind, the three of you end up in your bedroom. Clothes had all been shed on the way. Some you'd pulled off yourselves. Some had been torn off by others. Somehow, you had ended up on the bed looking up at the two beautifully naked men. Joel was broad and thick with a dark trail of curls leading down to his long, girthy cock. Dave was more lean but no less muscular. His hair was neatly trimmed around the base of his longer, thinner, curved cock.

After you take your time to appreciate them, you reach for them. They lay on either side of you. Their hands run over every inch of your plush flesh. As they kiss, lick and nibble their way over every curve until you are dizzy with need.

Eventually, Joel's hand skims between your legs.

“Fuck.” He breathes, returning his hand there to feel the wetness pooling.

Dave doesn't need any more feedback. He has you ready on your knees before you know it. His cock waiting at your entrance for any signal that you have changed your mind. The only signal you give him is sliding back down his length. You expect some smartass remark, all he gives you is a long moan as he fully bottoms out. You think you might get a softer side of Dave, until he starts thrusting hard and deep. He is so relentless that when Joel brings his weeping tip to your lips you don't even have to think about your movements, your lips just part around him and the movement of your whole body has your head bobbing around him. Only when his thick head nudges your throat do you think to bring your hand, lips, and tongue into play if only to allow you to breathe if nothing else. Dave’s balls slap against you violently as you cup Joel's gently kneading them. Joel whines at the act and threads his hand into your hair. It's more of a caring gesture than a dominant one. His thumb caresses the side of your head. Dave’s thrusts are maddeningly accurate. The pleasure is building rapidly. You don't know how much strength you'll have left once your orgasm hits. You can already tell it will be all consuming and leave you boneless. Desperately, you work Joel harder with your hand. It glides up and down his girth with ease from all the drool they have forced from you. Sucking him into your throat, you trace the thick vein of his shaft with your tongue. Your moans escalate and come out muffled. Dave grunts are pure filth as he nears his climax. Joel leaves you perplexed when he pulls his cock out.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart.” He pants as he starts fucking his own fist. “Is Dave making you feel good? Is he working my pussy right?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh, god.” You grip the sheets beneath you hovering on the edge of oblivion.

“Fuck. You know he's just getting a taste, right? That that little cunt is mine afterwards?” The groan that comes from Joel's chest makes you clamp down around Dave.

“Oh, shit. She likes that. Fuck. Fuck.” Dave's movements speed up clearly on the edge of spilling into you.

“Yeah? You like me talking about how that cunt is mine? Be a good girl and milk his cock for all it's worth.” Your body listens to Joel before you even process his words.

“Fuuuuck. Ugh.” Dave gasps as he fills you with rope after rope of his cum. He carries on thrusting until he's soft, driving his seed deep.

“Tongue out.” Joel groans.

You react just in time to catch the second spurt across your face.

“Oh. Ohh.” Joel's hand keeps fisting his cock until he is thoroughly wrung out. His cum covers your cheeks and chin.

As post orgasm clarity sets in, Joel silently hands you his shirt to clean up while Dave wanders off to find his clothes.

The Christmas festival in Honeymire seems like a lifetime ago. In reality, it has only been a year. The cosy chair that once looked out over the town now looks out over the skyline of the city. The view that your promotion bought you in your dream penthouse apartment. Everything had gone to plan. With maybe a couple of exceptions.

“Hey, Mama, we're home.” The familiar voice of your boyfriend calls from the front door while he kicks off his shoes.

“Hi, was my baby good? Were you a good girl?” You coo as you pick the carrier up to check on the furry occupier while she can't sculk away from your affection.

“She was great. The new vet gave her a clean bill of health. I had a hard time explaining why she's called ‘Freeloader’.” Joel kisses your cheek after hanging up his jacket.

“She eats my food, growls at me and has a weird way of showing her affection. What else would I call her?” You shrug.

“In my experience? Ellie.” Joel snorts.

You muse as you let your furry dependant loose. “They do have the same ‘cross me and I'll cut you’ vibe. Even if they are both adorable with it.”

Joel smiles broadly at the thought of the challenging teen who managed to get into environmental law. “Yeah. I'm just glad she's channeling that energy into saving the world.”

The prideful look on Joel's face makes you love him even more. You can't help but cuddle into him. “Speaking of, when are the girls leaving Tommy's after Christmas?”

Joel thinks for a moment. “The 29th. Why?”

Laying your head on his shoulder, you nonchalantly reply. “Nothing. Just Dave texted and asked if we wanted to spend New Year's in Paris.”

#pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift24 #secret santa #joel miller #dave york #smut

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