#i love that she's embraced face glitter <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[fairweathermyth]

In every crime of the heart, you'll rip yourself apart It's an outsider art, provokes every emotion And it may bewilder a few, it's an unpleasant view You're an agent of truth, twisted up at the tail end

WAXAHATCHEE "Crimes of the Heart" live in Brooklyn

[thef1diary]

Little Big Blurb | 3

— Mother’s Day Special

Max and Isabella spoil you with love and breakfast

series masterlist

wc: 1.1k

As you stir awake to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, the sweet scent of pancakes wafts into your room, gently coaxing you from sleep. Blinking away the remnants of dreams, you stretch languidly, relishing the warmth of the cozy cocoon of blankets surrounding you.

You pat the other side of the bed, in hopes of feeling Max's sleeping body, but your hand is met with the softness of the blanket instead. You frown, squinting your eyes, realizing that you're alone in the room.

The realization dawns upon you—it's Mother's Day. Your heart swells with anticipation, and a soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you imagine the surprises awaiting you. The only reason you remember the date is because Max and Isabella have tried to be very secretive, conversing quietly at random times throughout the days prior. Unfortunately, Isabella wasn't a good whisperer just yet, and you caught the two words, "Mama's Day," coming out of her mouth.

With a contented sigh, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and slip into your slippers, eager to start the day.

Padding down the hallway, the sound of soft giggles and hushed whispers reaches your ears, filling you with warmth. Entering the kitchen, you're met with a scene straight out of a storybook.

You spot Isabella sitting at the kitchen table with her back faced towards you, as her small fingers hold a crayon while she diligently works on something.

Standing on the opposite side of her, Max beams at you when he sees you, his eyes alight with affection and pride.

In his hands, he holds a tray, filled with all your favourite breakfast foods. Fluffy pancakes adorned with sliced strawberries, a side of crispy avocado toast glistening in the morning light, and a steaming cup of coffee, fragrant and inviting. But it's the single red rose placed delicately in a vase that brings tears to your eyes, a simple yet poignant gesture that speaks volumes of his love and thoughtfulness.

Max places the tray back onto the kitchen table, and nudges Isabella. She quickly turns around to look at you, holding onto something which you realize is a handmade card. Glitter and stickers adorn the card, spelling out ‘Happy Mother's Day’ in vibrant hues.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mama!" Isabella exclaims, her voice filled with unbridled joy as she jumps up from her seat to envelop you in a tight embrace. You return the hug fiercely, feeling an overwhelming surge of gratitude and love for these two incredible souls who have filled your life with so much joy and happiness.

She hands you the card, and once you open it, you find that there's a photo of you and Isabella glued inside. It's an older photo, back when she was just four years old. Her hair was put up into two pigtails, adorned with various clips. You clearly remember this photo, taken from an older digital camera. It was the first time Isabella had asked you to make her hair as such, and you knew that you had to take a photo of it for memories.

Along with the photo, there was a message that was undoubtedly in Max's handwriting since it was cursive. ‘Best Mama Ever.’

"Thank you so much, Bella!" You peppered kisses all over her cheeks until she giggled.

Then, you glance at Max, who watched the interaction between you and your daughter with a warm smile.

"Good morning, beautiful," Max says, his voice husky with emotion as he round the kitchen table and stands in front of you. "We wanted to make today extra special for you."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you take in the scene before you—the love shining in Isabella's eyes, the warmth radiating from Max's smile. "Thank you, both of you," you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. "This is the best Mother's Day gift I could ever ask for."

Isabella beams at you, her dimpled cheeks rosy with excitement. "We made breakfast all by ourselves, Mama! Well, Maxy helped me flip the pancakes, but I mixed the batter!"

Max chuckles, ruffling Isabella's hair affectionately. "She's quite the chef in training, isn't she?"

You nod, a lump forming in your throat as you realize just how lucky you are to have these two incredible people in your life.

The warmth of the morning sun filters through the kitchen window, casting a golden glow over the room as you gather around the table, a sense of peace and contentment settling over you like a soft blanket. Isabella chatters animatedly about her plans for the day, her excitement palpable as she bounces in her seat, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

"I want to pick flowers for you, Mama!" Isabella exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And then we can have a picnic in the park!"

Max leans in closer, his gaze softening as he listens to Isabella's animated tales with rapt attention. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, princess," he says, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm sure Mama would love that."

His love for her is evident in every glance, every smile, and you feel your heart swell with gratitude for the bond they share.

You nod, “yes, we can do that!”

As you tuck into the delicious breakfast spread before you, laughter fills the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet melody of Isabella's giggles. It's moments like these—simple, yet profound—that remind you of the beauty and magic of motherhood, of the love that knows no bounds.

After breakfast, Max suggests a leisurely stroll in the park, a chance to bask in the warmth of the sun and soak in the beauty of nature, along with giving Isabella a chance to pick out the flowers she wanted for you.

"Can we bring sandwiches, Mama?" Isabella asks, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Of course, sweetheart," you reply, reaching out to ruffle her hair affectionately. "We'll pack all your favorites."

Hand in hand, you make your way to the park, Isabella skipping ahead, her laughter echoing through the air like music. Max walks beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours, a silent promise of love and support that fills your heart with warmth.

As you wander through the park, the world seems to slow down, each moment savored and cherished. Isabella chases after butterflies, completely forgetting about the flowers as her laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves.

In that moment, surrounded by the ones you love most in the world, you realize just how precious life truly is, how every moment is a gift to be treasured and embraced.

Taglist: @keerysfreckles @d3kstar @xjval @hc-dutch @the-untamed-soul @multi-fandom-fan221b @lilymurphy03 @shreks-best-tits @nessacarty1 @ldynblack @lighttsoutlewis @ur-fave-ave @namjoonswaifu @llando4norris @dark-night-sky-99 @majx00 @xoscar03 @wonnou @samantha-chicago @mlioravanfleet

[orphicdreamers-wp]

When You Know You Know — Quinn Hughes

Summary; In which you, Quinn and your loved ones recount the early days of your relationship

Content Warning: wedding ceremony inaccuracies, fluff

You laughed into your palms as Jack took the microphone and grinned sheepishly, “Hey guys! I’m Jack, the cooler of Quinn’s brothers.” You turned to your husband, “How bad are we expecting this to turn out?” Quinn laughed, “Almost as bad as Trevor standing up after the minister said ‘speak now or forever hold your peace��� and saying ‘don’t nobody say nothing’.” Jack grinned as you turned to face you and his brother, “I have one text from a Quinn Hughes, dated December 9th 2018. Jack no joke, I just met my wife. She’s perfect.”

Jack turned to face your wedding guests, “It should be noted that the first two weeks of December that year there was a horrendous snow storm in Vancouver so I initially didn’t believe him. Until he FaceTimed me the next day trekking through the snow holding a bouquet of lavenders that was bigger than his head, which is ideally a huge thing of flowers. He told me he was going to meet a girl for dinner. He called me again the next day, this time he was demanding to speak to our mom to learn how to make pasta as he was having someone over for dinner.”

Jack’s story earned laughs from the guests. Jack smiled at you and Quinn as he continued, “This continued through the remainder of December and the majority of January. It was nearing a month he’d been needing dating advice. So he called me once again trekking through the snow, but that time he wasn’t alone.” Jack turned to face you with a smile, “I was complaining about whatever stupid crap a 17 year old boy would. And then I saw Quinn get pelted in the face with a snowball. Then I heard Y/N squeal as she and Quinn ran through the snow covered streets of Vancouver throwing snowballs at each other and giggling.”

You laughed softly as you melted into your husbands side into a warm embrace, “I quickly learned that Y/N was perfect for my brother which was unexpected because Y/N is classy, kind and beautiful and Quinn is not. But after meeting her I have never had to question or wonder if my brother made the right choice. Because from the moment I met her, Y/N has shown nothing but grace, love and support for not just Quinn but my entire family. I could not be more proud to say, welcome to the family sis.” Your eyes welled with tears as you stood to go hug Jack, “I always wanted a little brother to annoy.” Jack smiled as he hugged you, “I always wanted a sister.”

You returned to your seat next to your husband as your best friend, Gracie stood up with the microphone, “I hold here a hot pink notebook sheet of paper dated April 13th 2006, it reads ‘GG I have a secret. I have to tell someone so your my friend now that I told you. Mrs Tkachuck’s son is cute. He is always skating at recess. I think he has really nice hair, maybe my husband will too. Anyways I got peanut butter sandwiches for lunch what did you get?’ This was the first note I ever received.”

You covered your face with your hands as you heard your husband whisper, “Please tell me it wasn’t Brady.” You laughed as Gracie continued, “The boy in the note did have really nice hair. Matthew Tkachuck everyone. That note would be seen as two 7 year old girls agreeing that a 9 year old was cute and bonding over lunch. But for me that singular note written in real glitter pen by the 7 year old who had no friends because she didn’t let anyone say anything mean to her. You, Y/N changed my life at just 7 years old.”

Quinn squeezed your hand reassuringly as you blinked back soft tears as Gracie continued, “You wouldn’t know this, because I never told you. But on Friendsgiving in 2018, when I pulled the longer side of the wishbone. I wished for you to find someone who would alter your life the way you altered mine. And then 13 days later I got a voicemail from you at 3 am. You had claimed you found the love of your life and his name was win. I unanimously decided that his name probably wasn’t actually win but more likely Quinn.”

You felt your gaze soften as Quinn pressed a kiss to your temple as your best friend finished her speech, “To my beautiful, perfect, amazing and wonderful best friend. To the rest of your life with a guy who treks through the snow a day after meeting you. PS your husband did end up having good hair.” You and Quinn erupted into soft giggles as you looked at each other. You smiled up at Quinn, “I so would have written love notes to you in teal glitter pens.” Quinn laughed, “I would trek through a million snowstorms to bring you flowers.”

You melted into a kiss as your mother in law took the stage, “My biggest baby. In your entire life I have only seen you love three things. Your family, hockey and the beautiful woman that is sitting next to you. And none of those things are in order. From the moment I met Y/N it was clear to me that you loved her more than anything else in the world. It’s in the eyes. You, Quinn Hughes have very telling eyes. I could tell by your eyes when you pushed Jack face first down a slide when you were 5 and he was 3. I knew from the look in your eyes the first time you snuck out. And I knew when I saw your eyes light up when Y/N offered to take Jack and Luke to hockey practice so me and your father could have a break.”

Ellen continued as she smiled at you, “I knew that you were long gone, there was no coming back. You were head over heels for her and honestly I think I was a little bit as well. For as long as I remember you and your brothers never liked each others friends or associates. Don’t get me started on girlfriends. But Jack and Luke came home and would not shut up about how much they liked Y/N. I knew then that she was perfect for you and she fit like a missing puzzle piece of our family. So it didn’t come as a shock to me when you called me less than a year later asking me to help you pick out engagement rings.”

Your jaw dropped, you hadn’t known that Quinn had thought about marrying you so quickly. Ellen smiled at you and her eldest son, “To my beautiful son and his even more beautiful wife. Watching you two navigate life together has been one of the most gracious gifts I’ve ever received.” You smiled warmly at your mother in law as you rested your head on your husbands shoulder, “So I’m picking up on the fact that apparently everyone around us including us knew from the beginning of our relationship that we’d end up here. Is it just me?” Quinn kissed your cheek, “Nope, definitely not just you.”

[im-sleepdeprived]

Crazier • Pt. 3

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

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

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

read part 1 here & part 2 , masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it hard?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it hard?” You ask softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please say no, please say no, please say-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shrugged. “I read a lot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled right back at him. “Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Peter. 

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

Or not. 

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

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

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

Neither you nor Brad replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you had no problem running. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. 

No, no, no, no. No. 

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

He could handle another detention. 

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

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

An Idea popped into his head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not doing this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Way better than that other bullshit you were thinking of. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could’ve sworn you heard her laugh. 

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

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

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

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

That worried you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you excited?” He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grinned wide. “Glitter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now out through the nose.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

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

“Take it off.” You whispered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. 

You were a wreck. 

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

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

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

You blanched. “Lexi isn’t here yet?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

girl WRU !!!

you were needed like 30 mins ago !!!! 

get here-

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

“Woah, careful.”

You’d know that voice anywhere. Peter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One, two, three-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re out of setting powder.”

“What?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure you even have the time?”

Shit. 

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

“Peter I’m so-,” 

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

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

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

Everyone was still for a second.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you whispered, “me either.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widen, “Me?”

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

“Hello?”

“It wasn’t the Axe Body Spray.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You,” Lexi said. 

“Huh?” You replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, “Oh okay.”

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

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

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

And then there was him…

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.” She grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I always am.” she shrugged

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

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

You grinned right back. You could handle this. 

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

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

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

“Hi,” you replied, smiling right back. 

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

“Yeah, I think I am too.”

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

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

Peter Parker was sitting front row. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.”

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

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

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

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

“I wanted to.” He admitted. 

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

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

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

Your face lit up, “Of course!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That had gotten you to shut up. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything alright?”

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

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

You looked up at him expectantly. 

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

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

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

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

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

Oh Martha, where are you?

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

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

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

You were taken aback. “Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh….oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Risks?” You asked confused.

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

“So no one knows?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, obviously that didn’t initially start well. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘crazier’ taglist: @coralineyouareinterribledanger @666yourmomdotcom

[mariclerc]

Three hearts, one bed | cl16 & ls2

Summary: after the race, both you and your boys are very tired from all the action.

Warning: none, just fluff, shy reader.

a/n: dedicated to @bananaleclerc love u girl <3

The plush hotel suite is bathed in the warm glow of bedside lamps, Charles and Logan are sprawl on the king-sized bed, both clad in soft white and black sweatpants. Charles, with his dark hair damp and a faint sheen of sweat, looks exhausted but content. Logan, his blonde hair tousled, leans against the headboard, a playful glint in his eyes. You are accompanying them to one of the night races in Singapore, which is usually one of the hottest on the calendar. You love to accompany them whenever you have time, you are their biggest fan and, well, it's your job as their girlfriend.

They both watch you as you stand by the window, gazing out at the glittering cityscape. For them you look absolutely breathtaking in a simple silk sleep dress, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on your face. However, a self-conscious blush creeps up your neck as you feel their stares.

“Hey there, lovely! Are you enjoying the view?” Logan says while grinning.

You turn, a shy smile gracing your lips. “Yeah, it's beautiful.” you say softly.

Charles reach out a hand towards you. “Come join us, amore. You must be tired too.” (love) Hesitantly, you approach the bed. Charles pats the spot beside him, his voice gentle. “There's plenty of room for the three of us.”

You climb in, scooting between them. Charles immediately wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You snuggle into his side, inhaling the comforting scent of his shampoo. Logan leans his head back, propping it on a hand, his gaze roaming over your face.

“You know, you don't have to be shy with us, y/n, we adore you completely... even the quiet moments.” Logan says.

“Logan's right chérie. You're perfect just the way you are.” Charles says with a shy smile. (darling)

You blush again, but this time, a warmth spreads through you. You steal a glance at Logan, then back at Charles.

“Thanks, guys, you don't know how much that means.” you mumble.

Logan let out a chuckle. “Oh, we know pretty girl. We see the way you look at us, the way you light up when we're around.”

He winks, and you can't help but giggle. Charles nuzzles your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Come on, let's get some rest. You must be beat after all that traveling and cheering on us during the race.” Charles says smiling.

“Yeah, I am a little tired.” you say drowsily.

“Don't worry, beautiful. We'll take good care of you.”

Charles winks again, and you snuggle deeper between them, feeling a sense of belonging and love wash over you. The exhaustion of the day melts away, replaced by a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. Charles and Logan exchange a satisfied look over your head, both knowing they wouldn't trade this moment for anything.

Your eyelids flutter shut, lulled by the warmth of Charles' embrace and the gentle rhythm of Logan's breathing beside you. A content sigh escapes your lips as sleep begins to claim your body.

Charles notices your peaceful slumber and brushes a stray hair from your face with his thumb. He leans in and whispers softly in your ear.

“Dors bien, mon ange.” he whispered. (Sleep well, my angel.)

“Bonne nuit, Charles.” you mumble (Good night, Charles.)

Logan, watching the exchange unfold, can't help but smile. He extends a hand and gently strokes your other cheek with his thumb.

“Sweet dreams, baby. We'll be right here when you wake up.” he whispers too.

“Love you both.” you say sleepily.

A contented sigh escapes your lips once more, and you drifts off to sleep. Charles and Logan share a look, the silence filled with unspoken understanding and affection.

“She's incredible, isn't she?” Charles whispers.

Logan nod at the monegasque whisper. “The most incredible girl... We're lucky to have her.”

A comfortable silence descends upon the room once more. However, this time, it's punctuated by the soft sound of a chuckle from Logan.

“You know, Charles, I was thinking... that room service menu looked pretty tempting.”

Charles raise an eyebrow. ”Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“Something to keep our energy up for tomorrow morning. Maybe some champagne and a little... dessert?” Logan wink at Charles.

Charles smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Sounds like a plan, mon petit prince... Just make sure to keep it quiet, wouldn't want to wake our sleeping beauty.” (my little prince)

Logan smiles widely. “Leave that to me. We wouldn't want to startle the love of our lives.”

They both lean down, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead before turning towards each other, a playful glint in their eyes.

The room falls silent once more, punctuated only by the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Charles watches your chest rise and fall, a wave of tenderness washing over him. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.

A soft sigh escapes Logan's lips, and Charles turns to see his boyfriend looking at him with a sleepy smile.

“We're so damn lucky to have her with us Charlie.”

Charles nods and blushes at the nickname. “Oh yeah, absolutely.”

There's a comfortable silence between them, a silent conversation filled with shared love and appreciation for you. It lingers for a moment before Logan reaches out, his fingers brushing against Charles' cheek.

“You know? A little sleep might be nice after all that racing... Care to join me... mon coeur?” Logan says. (My heart?)

Charles' eyes soften, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Bien sûr, mon ange.” (Of course, my angel.)

They both lean in, their lips meeting in a soft, warm, lingering kiss... It's a kiss filled with unspoken affection, a quiet promise for later, and the comfort of knowing they have each other.

As they pull apart, a pleasant drowsiness washes over them. Logan snuggles closer to Charles, his head resting on his chest, they are both blushing and flustered.

“Goodnight Charlie.” Logan says, snuggling close to you and Charles.

“Goodnight Lo, sweet dreams.” Charles says placing his arm over you and Logan.

Exhaustion finally claims them both, and their eyelids flutter shut. The room falls silent once more, this time with the peaceful rhythm of their combined breathing.

The moonlight casts a soft glow over the three of you, the slow breaths, the tangled limbs of the three of you, a picture of love and contentment.

[mizusnose]

Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I: pt.2

singular warning is that: the title was chosen for a reason

978 words (i’m sorry, i just didnt wanna do a pt.3)

The first time that Akemi told you about Mizu, you’d both been drunk, pushed against the plush of a booth against the dance floor. The music was loud, a thrum that you could feel in your bones, and Akemi’s lips kept brushing your neck and jaw as she screamed out: She fucks me so good it’s actually insane, and her, her fucking hands! god

It was fine, you thought, to talk so openly about sex and girlfriends and hook-ups. That is, until Akemi introduced Mizu to you months ago.

“A letter. For me?”

A sharp tug at your gut sobers you up for approximately two seconds before it sinks back into you and you fall against your bed. Your sheets are pulled up against you—Mizu must’ve tucked you in when she laid you down, your heart hummed at the thought.

“That’s..”

Your curtains were open, if only slightly. The lights off—the only source of light from the low lamplight in the kitchen right above the stove. Mizu was painted in moonlight, her edges a shadow in your mind.

The letter in her hands glinted in the dark—it was a wide yawning secret: a simple loose-leaf page folded and torn from old college notebooks, no envelope because you’d never thought of sending it or addressing it.

And yet—

Mizu’s eyes darted across the page, reading words you’d picked and written out. Her lips parted, her golden chain glimmering.

You felt like a buzzing thing, a livewire with no insulation, dipped in water and coated in no safety precautions. Laid out bare in messy scrawl and ink from a broken pen.

“Mizu..”

It’s the alcohol, Mizu’s hanging silence, the swirl of anxiety that stretches when Mizu’s breathing slows—nearly stops.

“You…your, but—“ Mizu looked up, her eyes unfocused, shoulders tight, and her jaw taut. Her hair pushed into her cheek, her flushed neck, “No. No, no..”

“Mizu, please. We—I didn’t know that—“

“Know what?” And then she was striding over, walking like a miracle, bathed in starlight. Her gaze burned holes into you, left you singed when she met you at the lip of your bed, “You..you wrote this?” Her face an instant away, a little closer and—

Ah, there you are, you think, just as beautiful as the first time.

“I didn’t know that you would..that—that you..”

“You love me?”

A hollowed-out panic bloomed in your belly. A heavy mandarin sitting in your stomach, swaying with every flick of Mizu’s stare into your eyes, then your lips, back to your eyes again.

“Mizu, we’ve got to have it out. I, I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, and I—I tried to ignore it and Akemi—and this is not, wasn’t supposed to—“

“You love me.” A statement.

Then she was gone again. Standing up fully, a tall smear against your bedroom. She sighed and looked wrung-out and exhausted. The foldings of your heart in an ache.

“No. This isn’t right. You’re..I’m—“ She folded her head into her hands then, the most stressed you’d seen her, the most beautiful all the same, “You will find someone better. Someone who is not me, I-I am awkward and too tall and I—“

“No, no Mizu, I love you.” You say, pushing your legs out of the bed, very suddenly needing Mizu to know. The sheets tangle in your knees and you stumble.

She catches you before you fall, a star falling into the earth: warm and beating in her hands.

“I am not enough for you.” Mizu says into your embrace. She looks unearthed, an anger that melts into panic, a peeled-back vulnerability.

“Mizu I love you.”

“You’ll realize and you’ll leave and I won’t—I don’t deserve it.”

“I love you, Mizu” Your hands cupping her chin, her eyes hot and glittering in the moonlight.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever have anyone. Akemi, she is nice. She is—she’ll find out too and I’ll be alone and—“

“That’s not true. You will love someone.”

Mizu’s eyes fall onto your face, a wave ready to crush the seashore, the tide pulling in. She regards you, and she whispers No, I will not. I can’t.

“You will. You’ll love them so much because that is your way, and… and I’ll watch.”

A train passes in the distance, the refrigerator hums to life once more. You gather the pieces of yourself you’ve slathered onto Mizu, her ears pink and poking out from her bun, and you say:

“and I’ll watch.”

Mizu doesn’t say anything.

Tell me I’m wrong, you think, tell me it’s okay. tell me tell me tell me.

The ocean that stretches between you both is static, a cold that only winter could bring.

She says a singular and awful thing: “I’m sorry.”

She sets you back down onto the bed, your body heavy with the wine and your mouth can still taste it: your confession, Mizu’s rejection—not obvious but clear all the same.

You feel a cloying heavy beating in your chest when Mizu’s palms pull the blankets above you again. A presence that takes your breath.

“Go to sleep.” Mizu says. She bends down, and kisses your eyelids. They flutter open as soon as she pulls away and you know it’s a dismissal.

“Don’t tell Akemi.” You stutter out. A fear that comes with these sort of things.

Mizu nods: once and slowly. Then, she’s leaving, pulling her puffer from somewhere off your bed.

The door clicks when she leaves and the moon is a dim sinking light. No longer fluorescent against Mizu’s skin.

And you lay in your bed, with your smeared makeup, and your wine-drunk headache, and wonder if you’d be allowed to tell her, to say: I’d love the mangled up bits of you, you know. If only you’d have let me.

———

:’D

[samodivaa]

Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 4)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Winter Soldier x Reader)

Part 1⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ Part 2⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ Part 3 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* ┗━━━ ━━━┛ He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember. ┏━━━ ━━━┓ Quotes - Pushkin, Fyodor Tyutchev, Dostoyevsky └── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Warnings - heavy ANGST, some fluff Words - 3000

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Song ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆Eventually

Did i cry from my own fic? Yes? ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

4 years ago Bucky’s triggers words were present more than anything, anyone else in his life. Beneath the sheet of gleaming snow, his human-self slept for decades, frozen in time. And everywhere he goes, it follows him; the past is always spreading ashes of memories : all of Winter’s footprints are effaced by her love, the waves of fury are at peace – she is his homeland shores, grounding his soul like an anchor. „Ah, my last love! Thou art both bliss and pain. And joy - and hopelessness-“ Bucky moves to sit next to her on the couch, putting an arm around her and pulls her in close until his head rests on her shoulder. „Doll, what are you quoting?“ he squints his eyes, quotes always brush against the edge of his curiosity, before taking a peek at her book. „My last love; Fyodor Tyutchev“ she proclaims, hardly attempting to hide her growing smirk. „Am I your last love?“ He drawls, a bit of sarcasm touching his tone, but he feels the seed of doubt embed in his heart at his own words echoes in his head. She just giggles, looking at him with glittering eyes, not moving from her comfortable repose. „Of course, Bucky“ She smiles and nods, before turning her gaze to the book once again, rolling the paper sheet between her fingers and gazing at it thoughtfully. „Read me more, I want to hear more“ he mumbles after completing an impressive yawn. He adjusts his position to get more comfortable on the couch as she continues to read, with his head on her lap. His soul is a wounded dove, it has a painful, longing call. A flying bird about to fall, that was poisoned, festered with the past…and now Bucky is surrendering in her embrace, and quietly drinks the healing rays of poem; of poetry - drinking mouthfuls from this healing light, her light – finally seeing the world bright and complete. "It is amazing what one ray of sunshine can do for a man!” ― Dostoyevsky 3 years ago „Snow, frost and sunshine ... Lovely morning! Yet you, dear love, its magic scorning, Are still abed ... Awake my sweet!“ Suddenly her voice sounds in the nothing of the night. Though no louder than falling snow, it cuts across the emptiness, so shocking in the endless silence that the words seem craved into his mind, crackle of emotions infuses the void of his soul after the nightmare. „Winter morning, Pushkin. Why do you always read me that when I have nightmares, doll?“ he feels an oppressive weight settling over him. „Because after a raging snowstorm, a lovely morning always follows, Bucky“ „Yeah, because you are the sunshine in my mornings“ He burbles out a delirious giggle as sweat streams down his face. Having her in his life is a kiss-inspired dream, he needs to touch her to make sure she is real. With his shoulders squared and his body tenses from the unknown reality, his hand gently outstretches to her face. She responds by inching impossibly closer into his palm with sliver of softness in her eyes. She is real.

2 years ago Nature is an artist as it strokes swiftly a winter wonderland. But now, wretches, every drop of blood — don't stain the innocent snow. The scene is set, exquisitely divine — snow always pluck the vibrating strings of Bucky's mind, but her voice is enough to make his worries melt away. Sometimes they talk of the past where еre any roamed or died. They talk of old times when Winter only meant death and not Christmas chimes. There is no wind to speak of, more an icy winter chill outside; because If he wants to overcome the whole world, he needs to overcome himself so they go for a walk to the park, snow crunching beneath their feet. Their hearts are not connected to each other through mutual understanding alone. They are, instead, linked deeply through the wounds of his past — hanging by a string, loosely holding him from collapsing. And she knows when thoughts are tossing him around, bathing in his blood — so she chooses to speak.

„I still remember that amazing moment. When you appeared before my sight. As though a brief and fleeting omen, Pure phantom in enchanting light.“

„Doll, I really think that you love Pushkin more than me“ „I remember reading him for the first time, it was so romantic“ „You are telling me that meeting me was not romantic?“ „Sometimes I just imagine meeting you in a café, far away from here - I imagine that nothing bad has happened to you, Bucky. Sometimes I wish you didn’t remember the past.“ And this is what Bucky learns now: that her love is an antidote to his worries, always, that stands within this otherness of the world, of nature — the beauty and the mystery of the Winter season, out in the fields or deep inside their favorite books at home — both those activities, her ideas; are re-dignifying his worst-stung soul. He doesn’t need to fight darkness. Bring the light, and darkness will disappear, she is his light. She uses his moment of distraction to move away and makes a small ball of snow and throws it right at his nose. „I was thinki-“ Bucky shouts as he wipes the snow from his face. She has the audacity to laugh as he removes the snow, and he decides to chase her. Bucky easily tackles her into the snow, putting his arm around her to make sure she wouldn't get hurt in the fall, faces very close together. „Now, this is romantic, Bucky“ He nodes his head, speechless still. To heal is to touch with love that which was previously touched by Hydra.

Present „How are you holding, Buck?“ „I’ve lived too long with the pain, I won’t know who am I without it“ „You still quote stuff just like you did with her, Buck. Why don’t you talk to her, she is still recovering I talked with her today“ „She doesn’t remember anything, I want her to move on“ his inquisitiveness nearly outweighed his reluctance to talking to Sam about it, attempting to simmer the flames of the protective nature over her. „She might remember, she needs time, Buck-“ Sam pressures him with a challenging look that he more than gladly returns. Bucky considers the proposal and the fact that Sam is giving him a guarded expression that seems so hopeful, followed by a slight nod of his head before speaking.

„The time I spend at Wakanda, with Shiru- I’ve decided to go with the procedure. I can’t trust my mind unless they restart my bra-“ „You can’t-“ Bucky rises from the chair and is halfway to the door of Sam’s house when he turns and says „Enough, Sam, please“

Bucky has fond a peace in nature which was irreplaceable once; he steps outside looking at the colorful sunset. The sun is out, but he is cold, eyes are wild, but the mind is asleep, the world is alive, but Bucky has dead. Nature is love, nature reminds him of her, but he is aloof of everything that screams live for today — he died the moment he woke up to her laying in the white sheets. ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Flowers will grow back after he stepped on then and maybe in a less miserable times they may see each other again — all his grief says the same things „this is not how it’s supposed to be“ and the world laughs and holds at his hope by the throat „but this is how it is“ The final turn is that. Oh, how strongly grabs them, the secret plot of fate and everywhere he goes, it follows him; the past is always spreading ashes of memories: all of Bucky’s footprints of love are effaced by Winter, the waves of fury are not at peace – no longer is there a homeland shore, no longer someone grounds his lost soul like an anchor.

The sadness won’t last forever, he won’t be able to remember it and for the last time Bucky goes to sleep so he could see her in his dreams for the last time – she taught him everything except to how to live without her – the present feels like the past. It’s a fitting punishment for a monster to want something so much, to hold it in his arms and know beyond a doubt that he never deserved it, that he ruined it – his soul bleeds and the blood steadily, silently, disturbingly slowly shallows him whole –  Bucky is too gone to be healed – he almost robbed her of her life. Now, she will carry the scars forever, but he selfishly remembers their love, there was love and it was theirs. Bucky was too deeply afraid to face her, that the moment their eyes meet and she finds herself staring at a stranger and he will realize that he has become a person she no longer recognizes – he stares at the poem she left for him, it makes him smile, because it reminded him of him and her; of what they used to do – James doesn’t want this to be the end of the chapter but it is – it’s the end of the line for love – nothing ever ends poetically he realizes end and his trust to poetry, it was not beautiful – it was just pain. He performs autopsies on their conversations long ago – he can to lie Sam, but he can’t lie to the hole deep inside – he lets himself cry, it’s better than feeling nothing at – wearing her shirt, because it’s still smells like her, but it will soon fade like his memories of her, of everything, erased forever. How can he live with a conscience that suffers whilst acknowledging his sin; with the memory of knowing she left this poem behind, thinking she would die from his own hands? ◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥ I loved you; and perhaps I love you still, The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet It burns so quietly within my soul, No longer should you feel distressed by it. Silently and hopelessly, I loved you, At times too jealous and at times too shy. God grant you find another who will love you As tenderly and truthfully as I. Your sincerely, your Doll ◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

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„Excuse me for interrupting, but I just saw that you are reading `The Brothers Karamazov` and couldn’t resist coming to talk to you“ a calm voice cut through the silence. „Oh, I just wanted to reread it- you can sit with me“ She has a thoughtful look on her face, heart shattering into so many tiny fragments that it is hard to speak, it leaves her incredulously blinking when she sees his blue eyes eerily crystalline. She only heard about him in periodic whispers over the mouths, hearing about his recovery and adjustment to life all over again.   She never intended to stay long, but she does because it is peaceful and she is not in a rush to leave, but his presence is overwhelming, feeling the presence of eternal harmony, fully achieved just like before. „I need to go for work, it was nice meeting you“   She senses that she should be following a different path, a path where their lines don’t cross. It is too much, she can barely breathes. There is a furious discontent from a moment, which verged on loathing; for her to have all of her memories and for him to be just a stranger taking interest in her book. This inexhaustible fantasy of them meeting again, of them reading books again – she needs to get out here of here, but then Bucky speaks and it’s impossible to smash the idea of them being together into splinters and turn it to dust – his eyes are the ocean, all flows and connects when their eyes meet. „Wait, can I get your number?“ he whispers from beside her, worry clear on his face at her sudden urge to go. He continues to stare intently into her eyes, waiting for their gazes to meet again and he feels his heartbeat speeding up.  „Oh?“ Bucky almost chokes on the air as she turns around to face him, not responding with any words. She just furrows her eyebrows slightly. And it hurts so good that its Bucky’s own free unfettered choice to ask her, to come speak with her. „I want to buy you a book“ his blue eyes trail from her eyes, to her lips thinking about how gorgeous this girl is. She is not sure which is worse – the intense feeling of him being here, or the absence of his previous love for her. Maybe it will be worse if she doesn’t let herself be part of his new life. She is too afraid of giving herself to someone she might lose again, she is too afraid that Winter might come again. Her loyalty to his past, to keeping it a secret its want cost her the most and she needs to bare all of her sins all over again, to keep a secret. „You don’t want to take me on a date?“ she questions while watching him with an amused gaze. „Yeah, yeah – I want to do that, too“ he responses with uncertainty laced in his voice, trying to hide a nervous laugh between closed lips. “You will burn and you will burn out; you will be healed and come back again” „Is that a quote?“ he shrugged, looking startled. „Yeah, it’s from the book, James“ „How do you know my name?“ it is a tormenting thought that refuses to take shape, not even sure if he wants to know the explanation behind this. “I am a fool with a heart but no brains, and you are a fool with brains but no heart; and we’re both unhappy, and we both suffer” Her eyes get a little teary, but she's quick to put a lid on her emotions, it is overwhelming that he doesn’t remember any of her favorite quotes, of the quotes she used to tell him. „Where is that from?“ „Idiot“ „Excuse me?“ „The Idiot, Fyodor Dostoevsky“ she hesitatingly looks at him, he is already looking at her with those ocean blue orbits that hold so much kindness, curiosity, just as they used to. „Oh…that was clever, I will give you that“ he laughs to himself, shoulders shaking with humor. „And I will give you my number“ „Really?“ „No“ “We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken”

„That is from Crime and Punishment“ she purposely tries to add amusement to her voice, trying to appear as this has never happened before. She is frozen, words caught in her throat. „Yeah.“ He licks his bottom nervously. "O-okay, I will give you my number"

An invisible thread ties them together – the pull the drag deep inside beneath her skin, the heavy gravity of him. She loved him enough to spend forever waiting, no amount of time is ever enough and even one day if forever runs out, she will be fine, because it’s her decision waiting for Bucky, getting to love him all over again. To exist with him is her greatest privilege and pain – but he has settled into the depth of her soul because, she has found what she loves and it almost killed her – the thought of him forgetting her terrified her before, but it probably terrified him too before his mind was fully reset – she searches for quotes which remind her of them, but he probably did too. This time she is learning him slowly, taking her time; in no rush with her love – there are oceans in James’ eyes and when she looks at them, both emotions and memories hit me waves. Sometimes she wants to scream so loud that the ground trembles, there is so much fear and grief within her that she is decaying from the inside out and there is no one to help me but herself. She needs to stay silent, need to be here for him once again – she loved him and will love parts of him that are not easy to love, turning the pages gently and helping him re-write a happy ending to his narrative. She has loved none, but him and it cuts her soul a million times just to form a constellation to light his way home – angry and half in love with the new him and tremendously sorry for how it turned out for them – it’s not a metaphor, this ache, this fear of Winter all over – but all Bucky’s life was grey before meeting her one day at the café. He brushes up against pink and the barest touch and - the rest of his life is green again, green like Spring. He doesn’t know who he is and the cycle begins again – he pierces her soul ,she is half agony and half love – Bucky is too tangled there, finding his way back to her unknowingly.

And that’s how Bucky imagines it, meeting her all over again after his procedure - in a café, far away from here - he imagines that nothing bad has happened to her. Sometimes he wishes he was just Bucky, sometimes he wishes that the past has never happens - sorrow compresses his heart. His grief passes gradually into quiet tender joy of that daydream. Her memories never returned. Bucky’s memories were deleted successfully. They never met again. ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆Tag list⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ @dear-lolita @i-loveyoubutyourenotmine @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @montyrokz @sarah5462 @mooievis @almosttoopizza @midnightramyeoncravings @itsmadamehydra @ravenromanoff @beetlejuicesupremacy @queenashen @kandis-mom @whitexwolfxx310 @msoldier @venting402 @avery199 @pandabearrrrrrr @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @tokoyamisstuff @happinessinthebeing

“The most monstrous monster is the monster with noble feelings” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Eternal Husband

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member loses her fluffy bunny ft New Jeans' Minji as GF

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming up with a lot of stuff for you guys so I can make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that my friend snowy12 who gave me this idea on Tumblr likes it!

The request: Hey I want to request where y/n is dating minji fom newjeans and y/n had a temper tantrum because y/n stuff toy were missing and they ask minji to help calm her down and put her to sleep while they search for it. 

A/N: Hope you're okay with me doing an actual animal since we've already posted something really similar with another idol. Xoxo <3

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

Y/N was no stranger to the fast-paced world of K-pop. As the 10th and youngest member of TWICE, she was accustomed to a hectic schedule filled with performances, rehearsals, and media appearances. But behind the stage lights and glittering costumes, she had a quiet, serene world of her own. Her fluffy bunny, Mochi, was her constant companion, a source of comfort and solace in the midst of chaos.

But on a particularly sunny day in Seoul, as the maknae was getting ready for another busy day with TWICE, she realized something was amiss. Mochi was nowhere to be found. Panic started to well up inside her as she searched her room, calling out for her beloved pet. Her fellow TWICE members, who shared a dorm with her, quickly noticed her distress.

Jihyo, TWICE's leader, entered her kid's room, her voice filled with concern. 

Jihyo - Babygirl, what's wrong? Why are you so upset? *frowns*

Tears welled up in the younger girl's eyes as she frantically explained everything. 

Y/N - Mochi is gone, omma! I can't find her anywhere! *tears up*

Jihyo tried to comfort her. 

Jihyo - It's going to be okay, honey. We'll help you look for Mochi. She couldn't have gone far.

The rest of the TWICE members joined in the search, fanning out through the dorm and even the surrounding areas. They called out for Mochi and shook her favourite treats, hoping to lure her out of hiding. But as the hours passed, it became apparent that Mochi was truly missing.

Y/N's anxiety grew with every passing minute. Mochi was more than just a pet, she was a source of emotional support and comfort. TWICE's lovebug had adopted her when she was going through a tough time, and Mochi had become her confidant and companion.

Amid the frantic search, Mina quietly pulled Jihyo aside. 

Mina - Jihyo, our child is having a mental breakdown. She can't handle this. We need to find a way to calm her down.

Jihyo nodded in agreement, her maternal instincts kicking in. 

Jihyo - You're right, Mina. We need to make sure our baby is okay. Let's call her girlfriend, Minji from New Jeans. She might be able to help.

Mina quickly dialled Minji's number and explained the situation. Minji, who cared deeply for her girl, agreed to come over immediately. She arrived at the TWICE dorm, her face filled with concern.

Jihyo greeted her at the door and quickly explained the situation. 

Jihyo - Minji, Y/N/N is really upset right now. We can't find Mochi, and she's having a hard time coping. We need your help to calm her down and put her to sleep while we continue the search. *sad smile*

Minji nodded and followed Jihyo to the SMC's room. Inside, Y/N was sitting on her bed, her eyes red from crying, and her hands trembling. Minji approached her gently and embraced her, letting her lover bury her face on her shoulder.

Minji - My love, it's going to be okay. We'll find Mochi, I promise. But for now, you need to rest. You're exhausted, and I'll stay right here with you. *whispers soothingly*

Y/N clung to Minji, her sobs slowly subsiding. She was grateful for Minji's presence, for the way her girlfriend's calm and reassuring demeanour seemed to ease her anxiety. Minji stroked Y/N's hair, murmuring comforting words, and soon, the maknae's eyes grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep.

With TWICE's sweetheart resting peacefully, Minji joined the TWICE members in their search for Mochi. They combed every nook and cranny of the dorm, even inspecting the yard and surrounding areas. But there was still no sign of the fluffy bunny.

As the hours stretched on, worry gnawed at Minji's heart. She knew how much Mochi meant to Y/N, and the thought of her being lost or in danger was unbearable. She approached Jihyo, who was leading the search, and gave a suggestion. 

Minji - Jihyo unnie, we need to think of other places Mochi might have gone. Has Y/N taken her outside recently? *thinking expression*

Jihyo furrowed her brow in thought. 

Jihyo - Y/N did mention that she took Mochi for a walk in the nearby park a few days ago. Maybe Mochi ran off there.

Minji's eyes lit up with hope. 

Minji - Let's go to the park and check. Mochi might be there!

The group immediately headed to the park, calling out for Mochi and shaking her treats. Minji was determined, leading the way with a sense of purpose. She knew that finding Mochi was not only essential for her girl's peace of mind but also for the bunny's safety.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a soft, familiar rustling sound caught Minji's attention. She followed the noise, pushing through the bushes, and there, hidden in the undergrowth, was Mochi. The fluffy bunny was scared and dirty but seemed unharmed.

Minji carefully scooped Mochi up, her heart brimming with relief. She rushed back to the dorm, where Y/N was still asleep. Gently, she placed Mochi on the bed beside TWICE's honeybun, who stirred in her sleep and, to Minji's relief, reached out to pet her beloved pet.

The rest of TWICE gathered around, and their faces lit up with joy at the reunion. They watched as Y/N and Mochi snuggled together, the bunny's soft fur providing the comfort and warmth that Y/N had sorely missed.

Mina turned to Minji and began to speak. 

Mina - You're a hero, Minji. You found Mochi and brought her back to us.

Minji smiled, her heart full. 

Minji - I'm just happy that my babe and Mochi are together again. That's all that matters.

As Y/N woke up to find Mochi by her side, her eyes filled with tears of joy. She wrapped her arms around her bunny, whispering words of love and gratitude. Minji sat beside her, holding her hand and watching with a smile.

Y/N turned to Minji and said: 

Thank you, Minji. You're my hero.

Minji leaned in and kissed Y/N gently. 

Minji - I'll always be here for you, no matter what, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you and Mochi happy.

TWICE's youngest smiled, her heart full of love for both her girlfriend and her beloved pet. The TWICE unnies couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and happiness as they witnessed the bond between Y/N, Minji, and Mochi. It was a reminder that, even in the midst of a hectic K-pop world, there was always room for love and family.

And this made them all share the same thought:

I'll love my dear chosen family forever.

A/N: I'm sorry for any errors. English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there is something wrong, ty for reading <3

[xelasrecords]

All That Glitters

Han Jumin x OC

Jumin Week 2024 - Day 3: Green Daylily (Romantic Love, “The Flower That Helps Forget Sorrows”) @juminweek2019

All that glitters is not gold. An arranged marriage brings out the worst in Aecha and Jumin, and witnessing him fall for someone he can’t have may just be her tipping point.

A/N: I’ve tried to break the cliché of a cheater being just bad in Wedge the Knife Under My Skin, now this is my shot at humanising the gold-digger stereotype. Jumin as perceived by a resentful wife trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want may not be the Jumin you know. I humbly ask you to withhold your judgement and see it from her eyes.

TW: self-harm

Words: 5.4k

Masterlist Read on AO3

Aecha thought she could do this. Jumin was hers, but he could not belong to her, could not, could not, could NOT!—

She was sometimes a simpleton but not a deranged young woman. Breathe in, then out. Slipped her hand beneath her metallic dress that parted at her leg and twisted the skin on her thigh.

She was good and entertaining and desirable.

Aecha parted the masses and conversations halted. Her beauty glimmered and cloistered the useless watchers. Not only known as someone’s wife, her position in her company was just as important in this event. Businesses relied on hers to function, so Aecha could seamlessly negotiate winning deals and blackball distasteful people as she saw fit.

She headed to her husband. Jumin raised his champagne at her and smiled. Only she could see how insincere the smile was.

He never liked her enough to bestow her any semblance of authenticity.

No, that was her. A solemn, porcelain-faced her.

Jumin stared at the back of the woman’s head when she turned to thank the waiter and Aecha nearly broke. His naked yearning was embarrassing and she felt the urge to apologise to anyone who caught him. When a bald man approached him, Aecha intercepted and went on about nice, irrelevant things like the doltish young lady she decided to be.

I’m sorry, my husband is occupied. Partner? What business partner? Come on, don’t be boring. Leave your work at the office and drink! Here, take mine.

He spun the champagne glass in his hand and drank where her lipstick had stained its rim.

Aecha giggled and covered her lips while looking down at the marble flooring. The violet lights were giving her a headache. Fucking gaudy. People these days liked to use flashing colours as a theme instead of acting like it was a proper formal event.

Was Jumin staring? Of course he was. And he was coming, Lord save her.

Jumin rounded his arm around her waist and kissed her head. It meant nothing and Aecha felt nothing. She used all her strength not to lean away when he ruined her sleek, freshly cut bob and embraced him. Over his shoulder, she did a quick sweep for another sighting of the woman, but she couldn’t find her.

That was how it started. At a gala dinner, a married businessman sought a reprieve through a fleeting conversation with a woman as small as an easily crushed bird. He was entranced ever since. His wife couldn’t blame him, for she was also a wraith in their marriage. A chasm was where she looked, and this might be her best plunge yet.

*     *     *     *     *

Jumin had been gripping his phone tightly. Whether he was waiting for her to text back or deciding to send the first text, Aecha couldn’t be arsed. She just wanted him to stop bothering her peace with his pacing.

She slammed her book shut. “Would you be so kind as to fucking sit down and overthink quietly?”

Jumin scowled at her, but Aecha didn’t bristle. Gone were the days when she had to be timid in front of him. Jumin was not as powerful as everyone thought. He couldn’t even break out of his marriage. “You complain when the house is too quiet, yet you berate me when I endeavour to make this space livelier. I can’t get anything right.”

Aecha crossed her legs and studied her glistening nails with a breezy disinterest. “The brunette looked like your taste.”

While they did have an agreement to be able to see other people as long as it was discreet, the reality of it rattled Aecha more than she liked to admit. It was not jealousy she felt. She hated that Jumin won in this game of misery, that he had found a raft to tide over his loneliness while she had to drown alone.

Jumin sighed. “I only conversed with her because she and I share a similar view on certain subjects.”

“Like wanting her mouth around your cock,” she said. “Did you manage to sneak off for a quick fuck in the closet?”

“You are dreadful when something is not to your liking.” Jumin’s face twisted in disgust. He was only this expressive when they were alone. All that wasted media training. His childhood tutor would be disappointed. “I apologise that you had to deal with unpleasant associates on my behalf, but it’s been a long day. Do postpone your vitriolic statements. No one has the patience to deal with your tantrums all the time, Aecha.”

She held her hands up in mock acquiescence. “I only have one request: do not fuck her in the master bedroom. Take the one downstairs if you’d like.”

Jumin seemed to be calculating something before he sat beside her and placed her book on his lap. “If I ever brought anyone home as you apparently wish, perhaps I should do it in the bedroom beside ours. You could take notes on being more delightful in bed.” He smiled, but it made him look all wrong. Too crude and cruel for his elegant countenance.

Aecha patted his cheek, hot derision burning against her chest. “It says more about your dirt-poor standard that you still want to sleep with me if you’re this dissatisfied.”

“You’re within reach.” Jumin shrugged. “But I assure you, that won’t happen anymore.”

The jab didn’t land as he expected. Aecha was well-acquainted with the extent of his obsession with a mere cat, so she shuddered to think of being on the receiving end as a person.

“You’re a boring fuck too, Han Jumin. I just had to make do with what I had.”

Jumin let out an audible scoff and Aecha seized her book. At least he had a good mind not to crease the pages.

*     *     *     *     *

Let bygones be bygones.

Their squabbles never lasted more than a few days, but still, sharing a bed with Jumin was ridiculous. Aecha didn’t know why they never separated despite the many available rooms in this penthouse. Perhaps sleeping with someone you loathed was better than no one at all.

The harsh glow from Jumin’s phone washed over his face as his fingers tentatively danced across the screen. His facial features were worth the applause, she had to admit. As beautiful as a forbidden painting, as empty as a forgotten memory. No wonder the brunette was drawn to him. Jumin was a mystery to be solved and opposition would only drive her further into his arms.

“I can’t sleep with your phone light,” protested Aecha.

“You can turn the other way,” Jumin replied without a glance at her. “Elizabeth the Third is sleeping soundly, see?”

The white cat, curled like a doughnut between them, peeked through her eyelids. Aecha stroked her fur and she purred, dozing off again. “Have you met her again?”

Jumin’s fingers froze while a new message popped up on his phone. How would that woman feel if she knew he was lying side by side with his wife as he flattered her? She must know about Aecha’s existence. Their wedding was highly publicised.

But Aecha couldn’t judge her for trying to hold on to a strand of flimsy hope. It happened to the worst of them. She hadn’t been strong enough to resist the temptation either.

“Yes.” The word scraped against Jumin’s throat. “Have you taken your melatonin?”

He was always trying to get rid of her. “I want to take more than the prescribed dosage,” she said.

“You wouldn’t want to relieve the experience of your stomach being pumped. Neither do I.” He pulled the duvet up Aecha’s neck and folded the corner into a neat rectangle. “So save us the medical trouble and go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

“For you, maybe.” She suppressed her surprise that Jumin noticed her shivering. “You finally found a toy to distract yourself, but it’s hell for me every day.”

“You should have acclimatised yourself to this by now.” Jumin looked down at her with a pity that bordered on condescending. Aecha wanted to scratch it off his face.

She nodded at his phone and he turned the screen away. “You’re like a little kid with a candy dangled right above him,” she said, “but you’re too short, too powerless, to reach it.”

“She is a human being, not a candy or a toy. Get your facts straight.”

“You’re stupid for someone so smart.”

Jumin let out a long-suffering sigh. “Now who’s acting like a child?”

That was enough reaction. As long as Jumin was still useful, Aecha couldn’t annihilate him, but she could prick him with little poisons every day. She might have been sold off to him for the betterment of her father’s company, but she would not be delivered meek.

Aecha curled into a foetal position, eyes trained on him with resolve. It was self-flagellation to a degree; rage broiled inside her whenever she caught his genuine smile. She wanted, for once, to be on the receiving end of that smile. Jumin never seemed to enjoy his conversations with her, and she was always incensed or numbed by the end of them.

It wasn’t that she wanted to be loved by him per se. She thirsted for the acknowledgement that she was worth loving and capable of reserving romance despite everything that made her a monster. It offended her that Jumin never even tried to weigh her worth and turn this marriage into a real thing. One look at her and he detested her with the kind of resentment that didn’t fade with age.

Aecha knew that her sheer existence was a nuisance for Jumin. But if not her, who? Who else could save him from his mess? It wasn’t her fault that he didn’t put up a fight when Chairman Han trapped him into marrying her. C&R was suffering and Jumin was even more so. Aecha put the fire back inside Jumin when no one could. He had been a ghost of a person after his best friend disappeared. Now he was often irritated at her instead of walling off his emotions. Now he was someone to a nobody.

But affairs never ended well and Aecha was not planning to let go. She anticipated their doom with the giddiness of a child watching a car explode.

*     *     *     *     *

They were strolling in the sweltering heat, cloaked under the pretence of two lovers having a romantic date at the park. Aecha swerved when a teenager was cycling at them full force and pulled Jumin out of the way.

Posture was a good excuse to do something nice. Aecha didn’t want to forget how to be generous. That was a fitting practice.

Jumin thanked her and held her hand as they passed the glint of a camera behind the bushes. Aecha almost squirmed. Damp, sweaty hands were the bane of her existence. Jumin squeezed her hand in warning and she rolled her eyes.

“You never give me flowers when we’re having an outing,” Aecha said as they saw a man surprising another man with a bouquet. “Send me some if you want to maintain your image. We’ve come too far to generate false rumours about our divorce.”

“There are many ways to show affection without flowers.” Jumin’s attention was on a kid licking her ice lollies. “I wonder how the taste of that frozen stick differs from a gelato.”

“Artificial.”

Jumin turned to her in shock. “You have tried it?”

“I’m not as out of touch with commoners as you.” Aecha huffed. “The employees appreciate it more when you can understand their culture.”

“I shall take note of your practice.”

When Aecha caught a whiff of another bed of roses, she got annoyed that her mission was side-tracked. “Send me flowers, Jumin. Or is that something reserved for your side chick?” Aecha knew she was shattering their fragile peace, but she couldn’t help it. Her bitterness always came out before she could stop herself. “Her sad face is charming to lonely boys, I’ll give you that. Makes you want to save her, doesn’t it?”

Frustration flashed across Jumin’s expression, but he swallowed it. Jumin never lost his temper, not even when they were not being watched. If she was a cannonball, he was an impenetrable fortress. She couldn’t elicit an explosive reaction no matter how hard she tried.

It didn’t mean Aecha would stop trying though. One hole in the wall was all it needed to break him down.

“Keep her out of our date.” Jumin texted his assistant before slipping his phone into his pocket. “A bouquet will be delivered to the penthouse tomorrow. I expect it will be sufficient if you post it on your socials.”

“I thought we had a scheduled lunch with your father tomorrow.”

“I’ve called it off until further notice,” said Jumin. “I think we can both agree that none of us is eager to talk to him.”

“He’s not mad?”

“I’ve held up my bargain as a prized son. He’s already tied me to you. He should not expect anything more.” Jumin’s jaw was set. “Would you like to set our picnic here?” He gestured at the plain grass.

Aecha didn’t have an affinity for the great outdoors. Insects made her antsy and the sweat that dripped down her back and diluted her perfume were very far from her definition of a perfect date. The public demanded a lot of things from her.

She stood at the edge of the stone path as Jumin laid out the picnic rug. Knowing she had to play her part, Aecha cautiously knelt on the cloth and fished out the various pastries the chef had packed, arranging them neatly on the plates.

“Would you fetch a book for me?” Aecha asked as they dug into their croissants. “I’ve been eyeing the first edition of Anna Karenina, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

“You have a competent assistant. Utilise him.”

She didn’t know how, or why, but Jumin had a knack for making her feel small. She didn’t know what to expect from him or how far his niceties extended. “Do you really hate me that much?”

Jumin stared at her impassively, his tone bored. “Don’t pretend as if you loved me more than my money.”

The photographer was holding up his camera, so Aecha leaned forward and brushed off the crumbs from Jumin’s lips. “I never did.”

It was more complex than that, but he would never understand.

Aecha yelped when a tomato fell out of her croissant onto her skirt. She hated everything about today’s faux date. Jumin almost offered her a tissue, but he paused and shifted closer to remove the stain himself.

Aecha desperately wished this nearness made her heart thump. Their arrangement would’ve been so much easier if they could learn to fall in love with each other.

Aecha was a tortured wife, but she lived a fate worse than Anna Karenina’s. At least Anna found the will to break free and left all the wretchedness behind, but Aecha would never seize that chance.

She hated herself the most for it.

*     *     *     *     *

Well, there was a bouquet on her bedside table.

Supposed it was gorgeous. Supposed she didn’t know what these particular flowers meant because she never fell in love with a flower connoisseur who was always excited to teach her the language of flowers and never had to leave him for money. Supposed she never got tangled in her sister’s hospital debt and her father’s company wasn’t on the verge of bankruptcy.

She quashed the image of the man in her mind without mercy. It had been years ago, and she thought she might have loved him then. He was kind and loving and had no business of knowing what Aecha had become. A public figure on the news was all she had to be to him.

Aecha plucked out a stem from the bouquet. Green daylily. It should have been the romantic sort, but Aecha would not subscribe to its meaning of forgetting the pain from the past and present. She would hold on to the thorny memories. She wouldn’t have survived this marriage otherwise. Sometimes to stay alive meant to torture yourself with your kindest ghosts.

And how could she forget the very life she was living? Not a day went by without Jumin reminding Aecha what true sadness was. She wanted to be angry at Jumin’s assistant for getting the wrong flowers, but it was nobody’s fault, she knew. Her fury was really just loneliness was really just disappointment and guilt directed at herself.

Her choice brought her here. Her loyalty to her family cost her Jumin’s friendship and genuine love from someone, anyone.

Both of them would have suffered less in this marriage if they had been able to forge even the barest connection. Who, aside from Jumin, could understand her plight exactly? They were trapped in this together. They were supposed to turn to each other when hope eluded them. Jumin was as lonely as her, and no amount of wine and luxury for Elizabeth the Third could mask his emptiness from her.

They had never laughed together, Aecha realised, despair writhing in her gut. There were sarcastic chuckles and conceited smirks and plastic smiles, but never laughter that made them double over while clutching their stomachs. She hadn’t expected love to be on the table when she entered this marriage, but she had thought at least happiness could be within reach.

Aecha choked back a sob. She had turned her life over to Chairman Han and sentenced herself to a lifetime indenture. She couldn’t predict what she would do if her sister ever woke up. She wasn’t sure she would be happy with what Aecha had done.

But she didn’t need to approve of Aecha, she just needed to wake up.

Aecha captured a photo of the daylilies and posted it on her socials. Not a second later, comments of awe and support flooded her inbox.

Aecha was so lucky to have such a rich and loving husband. She received a surprise bouquet from a busy director while their husbands couldn’t even bother to take them out for dinner.

They had seen the pictures from her park date. How sweet, how romantic. Proof that if you were truly committed to your partner, you would carve out the time to be with them.

Aecha wanted to carve out her throat.

She turned off her phone, lay down and stared at the ceiling. She was so, so lucky.

*     *     *     *     *

“Why green daylilies?” Aecha asked as Jumin walked through the front door well into midnight. His black hair was dishevelled and his cufflinks were gone. She didn’t have to wonder where he had been. “I’ve never told you my preference.”

Jumin shot her a pointed glance. “Exactly.”

No surprise there. He didn’t bother remembering that she had a vase of irises in her study.

But Aecha was in a better mood tonight, so she decided to play nice. “They died on that same day, but I liked them when they were alive. Thank you.”

Without turning on the light in their walk-in closet, Jumin pulled off his tie and placed it on the island. Aecha noticed a lipstick smudge on the tie when she aligned it with the watch partition below the glass top. She imagined the other woman blindfolded and eagerly anticipated Jumin’s touch. A kiss here, a bite there.

What did it say about her character if the thought didn’t rankle her at all?

Aecha’s sex with Jumin was never adventurous. It was solely to satiate the thirst when they only had each other to turn to. They had agreed that searching outside their marriage was an awful waste of time and a gateway to a publicity nightmare.

“If you would like, I could arrange it with the florist so you’ll receive a bouquet each week.” Jumin was also nice today. A satisfying fuck could do that to someone.

“That’s not necessary.” Aecha shrugged. “How is she doing?” There was no hatred in her voice, only curiosity. She truly was baffled at how someone could enrapture Jumin so completely that he had been sparse in his appearance in his own house.

Jumin stiffened as though waiting for the next blow, and only slumped slightly when her jab didn’t come. “Nothing good can come out of this, you know that. She gains nothing and has everything to lose.”

“You also have a lot to lose,” Aecha said with a gentleness that sounded foreign to her ears. Strangely enough, she pitied the state they had put themselves in.

“I am hurting her.”

“You hurt a lot of people.”

“I know.” Jumin dipped his head, and it hit her that his exhaustion was more than a good fuck. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and his shoulders appeared to be weighted down. He had also been like this in their first year of marriage.

“Does she make you happy?” Aecha asked.

“Yes.”

“Does that make you unhappy?” she asked again.

Jumin’s breath trembled as he exhaled. “Yes.”

Aecha glanced down at the ticking watches locked in the glass island, relentlessly marching forward without an end destination. “Then I feel sorry for you.”

Jumin shook his head. “Don’t be. You bear the most pain of them all.” He covered her hand with his and the diamonds on their wedding rings clinked. “Don’t presume I didn’t know the origin of your rage.”

Aecha’s hand balled into a fist. Jumin was giving her too much empathy and it felt like she was stripped to the flesh and forced to bleed before him. “Stop assuming accountability. Your knowledge won’t change anything. I chose to marry you for myself.”

“Right.” Jumin leaned against the island casually. “How’s your sister?”

Aecha looked away. The closet suddenly felt too dark and imposing. “You wouldn’t see me here if she had woken.”

“I can accompany you to the hospital on your next visit.”

She drew her hand out of his grasp. The moment was over. “No.”

Aecha had tried her best to separate her sister from this world. Her innocent, pliable little sister would be easily mangled by the vultures here. Aecha was the older one, so she should take all the knives thrown at her.

No one touched her sister. Not even her husband who was sometimes lucid enough to be nice.

Aecha grabbed a pair of fresh pyjamas on the way out and flung them at Jumin. He caught them with his face, which just meant that he had shit coordination. “Take a shower before you sleep,” she said. “You reek of her.”

*     *     *     *     *

“Jumin, did you see my toothbrush?” Aecha yelled from the bathroom.

“It must have been thrown away by the housekeeper!” Jumin shouted back.

“For fuck’s sake,” she grumbled. A quick rummage through the cabinets presented no spare toothbrushes, so she wrapped a towel around her body and exited the bathroom. “Do you have any idea where she stocked it?”

Jumin was stroking a sleepy Elizabeth the Third on the bed, lying on his side. “I’m afraid not.”

Aecha put her hands on her hips. “How can you not know?”

“The last time I recalled, you’re also an occupant of this house.”

“Housekeeping is not my territory. You have a big brain, use it.”

“It’s not mine either.” Elizabeth the Third sneezed and Jumin chuckled with endearment. Aecha never got to be at the receiving end of that laugh. “And my brain is normal-sized. I just had a health check-up.”

“Then who should I ask?”

The answer came to Aecha right after she spoke. At the same time, they called out, “The butler.”

She scoffed and the side of Jumin’s mouth quirked up.

“I don’t have their number. I’ve never even seen their face,” Aecha said.

“Me neither. All forms of communication are made between Assistant Kang and them.”

“Care to help me find my toothbrush then?” Aecha asked impatiently. When Jumin didn’t budge, she re-entered the bathroom, dunked his toothbrush into the toilet bowl, and thrust it at him with a winning smile. “Look, you need a new toothbrush too. It travelled into the toilet on its own.”

Jumin’s eyes followed the water dripping down the toothbrush. “You just ruined a perfectly good cashmere rug.”

“It will be the next thing that travels into the toilet if you don’t move.”

Jumin levelled Aecha a glare that would’ve made everyone else cower, but she simply raised her brows. He grunted. “We can check the storage room.”

“Perfect.” She tossed the toothbrush into the bin and clapped her hands, then winced at the thought of splashing bacteria onto her skin. “Right after I wash my hands. Where is the storage room?”

“You have lived here for years, yet you still don’t know such a simple fact?”

Aecha shook her head with confidence.

“I don’t either.” Jumin kissed the top of Elizabeth the Third’s head and stood up. “Let’s find the mysterious room, shall we?”

*     *     *     *     *

It took them an embarrassingly long time to spot the storage room. In Aecha’s defence, it was located at the very end of the hall on the first floor where she had no reason to venture to. Jumin just thought she was always holed up in the library when she was not working. What was she supposed to do? Supervise the housekeepers around the clock? He could do it himself if he were so inclined.

To Aecha’s surprise, the room was remarkably tidy and spacious. She had been envisioning spider webs and broken bulbs; she should find the time to meet their house staff and thank them.

Aecha immediately scoured the room, pulling out drawers and opening boxes with determination. Jumin followed suit in a more curious fashion, flipping through files and looking into the washing carts with childlike fascination.

She paused. Jumin rarely showed this side of him to her. In fact, their recent exchanges had been bizarre. They fought, not banter.

What was happening to them?

“Did you get struck by lightning?” Aecha wondered aloud. “You’re easy to talk to these days.”

The scuffling from Jumin’s direction stopped and she turned around. “My—she suggested I treat you better, and she was right.” His smile was sad. “I have been cold to you even when you didn’t do anything wrong. My sincere apologies.”

He wasn’t standing far from her, but this was the farthest she felt from him.

Jumin couldn’t be told to do anything, barring this marriage. Jumin was obstinate and held a grudge towards women like her. Tolerating materialistic women was not in his nature, so the fact that he was changing merely because of—what, love?—was unacceptable. If he could change this much this fast, the woman could very well command him to do more drastic things.

“I didn’t know I was up for discussion. Doesn’t she hate me for being a hurdle to your eternal love?” Aecha couldn’t contain the bitterness in her tone.

“She understands this isn’t the ideal situation for any of us.”

“How saintly of her.” Aecha sneered. “What’s next? You promising her that this won’t be forever and asking her to wait as you find a way out?” She was picking at her nail bed with so much force that she felt a trickle of blood sliding down her thumb. When she wished for a disaster to befall Jumin and that woman, she didn’t mean to be the fallout. “Newsflash, you don’t get to divorce me. I will never accept it.”

Aecha’s hospital debt was building up at a rate that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with if it weren’t for Jumin, and the stability of her father’s companies relied on him.

She hated feeling powerless, but she had to do her part to save her family. It was the one thing she could do right in.

Jumin approached her with the caution of startling a feral cat. “I would never ask it of you,” he said. Another sentence spoken with kindness. Aecha loathed to hear it. “I’m aware of the consequences you would face.”

“Are you fucking with me? Drop the noble act,” she hissed. “She’s just one person. You don’t get to trade her for everything we’ve built. Our families wouldn’t cooperate if we split. Stocks will fall and the board will drive me out.”

Aecha knew she was far from being a favourite among the shareholders. The only reason they tolerated her was because of her relationship with Jumin. She couldn’t be seduced and tended to bulldoze over stupid, backward, outdated opinions. Her impressive performance didn’t matter when she couldn’t be moulded to their liking.

“I’m not going to divorce you. I also have my responsibilities.” Jumin massaged the crease between his eyebrows. “My end of the agreement requires me to stay with you to ensure the livelihood of our subsidiaries. I know what you will do if I attempt to leave. Your rage has no bounds. I won’t let you abuse your power and ruin innocent workers’ lives.”

Aecha was too hurt to react. She might be a headache to live with, but she was not evil. She wouldn’t put thousands of people out of their jobs because of her marriage issues. The media would hound her like wolves and she would lose people’s admiration. Love lost was almost always impossible to earn back.

But the fact that Jumin thought Aecha could do heinous things made her want to prove him right. It was too easy to latch onto fury and let it consume her. Why create a job crisis for strangers when she could strike at Jumin’s heart?

That woman was her final card. She wouldn’t hesitate to use it the moment he put her and her family in jeopardy.

“You’re wrong. I care about strangers,” Aecha said, her cheeks hot from restraining her anger.

“I have never seen that from you, Aecha.”

Jumin’s statement was so ridiculous that she had to laugh. “No, you just never see me.” She almost choked at the admission. “But that’s fine. You should keep an eye on that woman. You think you’re the only one with a hacker on your side? You already know what I’m capable of. What makes you so sure that I wouldn’t go berserk on her instead?”

Jumin came so close to her that she had to retreat until her elbow hit a cabinet. “Touch her and I won’t stand still,” he said in a low voice. “There’s only so much I can tolerate from you.”

Aecha’s tightened fists shook and she ignored the sting from the peeled skin. She looked up at him, holding back the urge to slam his forehead into the cabinet behind her. “She’s safe as long as my family and I are safe.”

Once upon a time, Jumin could have loved her, had she approached him with pure intentions. Their brief moments of camaraderie had proven it. But in this lifetime, Aecha had soured their relationship purely through the circumstance she entered Jumin’s life and he never forgave her for it.

Jumin scrutinised her for several seconds and she held his gaze without wavering. “Then we have reached an agreement.” He handed her a sealed package from his pocket. ��Your toothbrush.”

Her blood smeared on the plastic as she snatched it from him.

*     *     *     *     *

Jumin had moved out of their bedroom into the guest room down the hall. They would see each other even rarer now.

Aecha cast a look around the library. Walls of books stretched up the ceiling with a sliding ladder docked on one side. She couldn’t remember when books ceased to give her lasting joy. She couldn’t remember the last time things didn’t hurt. She had caused this, she knew that.

Aecha rested her temple against the cold window and brought her knees to her chest. From her plush seat, she watched the gardener maintaining Jumin’s private garden, and there she noticed a small patch of green daylilies.

Jumin must have had them planted before they fought. She wondered if he would remove them from the premises soon.

Sometimes, Jumin was considerate. Sometimes, it almost made Aecha crumble.

She didn’t think her loneliness could amplify, but what had taken root in this penthouse was crawling up her limbs like vines, determined to crush her.

She wanted to stop fighting them.

But her sister. But her father.

Aecha gritted her teeth as she picked at the newly scabbed skin on her thumb. It broke open into a deeper wound. Fresher sting, freer blood.

Just one more day. Then another. Then another.

-

Footnotes:

Aecha always assumes the worst from Jumin, but I hope the subtle details were noticeable enough that this is still the Jumin we love, just trapped in his resentment of having to marry someone who’s blatantly after his money.

At the event, Aecha calls herself a simpleton because she threw herself into this marriage for her family despite her sense of self-preservation.

When Jumin squeezed Aecha’s hand in the park, it wasn’t a scolding. He was trying to signal “I’m here.”

It’s not mentioned in the fic, but Jumin personally picks out the daylilies for her, not his assistant. He doesn’t know she likes irises because he respects her privacy and never goes into her study.

Years of familiarity translate to them subconsciously caring for each other’s quirk without noticing: Jumin setting up the picnic because he knows kneeling on the grass squicks Aecha out, Aecha straightening Jumin’s tie on the rack because he doesn’t like things crooked...

The toothbrush scene isn’t just a comic relief. I wanted to show a domestic moment and what they could’ve had if they’d started on the right foot.

Aecha’s fingers are a small allusion to her downspiral. In the second scene, the fingernails glisten, but by the penultimate and last scenes, she makes them bleed.

Why an OC? Simple. Writer wrote about 2 women, writer backed herself into a corner because she had a hard time referring to who as who, main woman got a name and developed personality. Aecha means good daughter in Korean. I love dooming her from the start.

When I couldn’t decide whether to develop Aecha into a full villain or give her some redeeming qualities, my friend told me it’d be more interesting if she’s morally grey. That stuck with me. At the end, they’re just a married couple who are trying to survive this lifelong prison they’d put themselves in.

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[lya-dustin]

Cupid kills with arrows

Chapter 3

Cw: trauma, refrenced past sexual assault

The wedding ---despite the attire of those attending--- is great.

Aemond is attentive if a bit too reserved, a good dancer even if he tries not to act as if being on display like that was comparable to being stung by a thousand bees and capable of behaving unlike his elder brother.

“Time to get it wet, little brother.” Aegon whispered, and Aemond turned to stone.

They had been fine up to now, Aemond had grown comfortable enough to even flirt with her and kiss her in the middle of a dance.

“Do not pay him any mind, he is always like that.” Helaena quietly apologized for her brother-husband.

She is pregnant with their third child, the last one, she whispered with relief.

There were a lot of things wrong with this family, and Aemma had lost the only chance to escape it.

If Aemond proves to be what he says and more, perhaps it will be bearable. Or better yet, allow her to meddle and fix things.

But the Aemond from the garden has been replaced by an Aemond who is colder than ice and tries to stop her from noticing a slight tremor in his hand when they call for the bedding.

How anyone thinks being manhandled and stripped down by mostly drunk men and women fun is beyond her.

The real fun comes when she and Aemond are deposited in front of the bridal chamber, same chamber every royal bride ---willing and unwilling--- has been bedded since King Aenys.

The formfitting knee-length shift is left on and Aemond’s linen braies as well for the sake of modesty, but Aemma has never felt more violated in her life.

He has no eyepatch and his sapphire eye glitters in the candlelight making him look like a fae from the stories.

A king seeking to imprison the young maiden intruding in his realm, a cursed prince waiting for true love to melt his heart of ice.

He tastes of wine when he kisses her roughly, not the chaste thing from earlier. Much better than the one at the Sept too.

He is a good kisser, so good Aemma wonders if the Wylde girls had been wrong on their assessment of him.

And yet, he is nervous, acting as if one wrong move will have her running for the hills or worse, laughing at him.

Aemond wordlessly carries her to bed. There is desire and some determination to enjoy the moment even as the shadow of whatever plagued him embraced him like a cloak as he lays her gently on a bed covered in rose petals and other flowers that invite love, passion and children into their marriage.

“Valzȳrys,” Aemma whispers as she tugs him to join her after she

Aemond brought his lips back to hers, moving atop her as he did and she thinks the whole of the Crownlands can hear the wanton sounds he elicits from her like a bard with his lute.

“Ābrazȳrys.” He leans over her between her legs, one elbow propped beside her head and his free hand bunching up her shift.

Aemma shuts her eyes in anticipation to what comes next. She wants him in her, to feel the pleasure she’s been told about by women of dubious reputation and mother who had gone as red as the curtains on the windows in her room.

Except it does not come.

His hand briefly hovered over the warm skin of her inner thigh and then it was gone.

Aemond looking ashamed of himself, pulls away as of the mere idea of touching her replused him and mutters an apology before leaving the bed all together.

“I am sorry, Aemee.”

Aemond washed his face with the water he poured into the wash basin in the dressing room.

There was a bed for a maid in it to hide the fact it was used by men who do not wish to share a bed with their bride after.

Aegon had slept in it, their father and Daemon as well.

Aemond just like them would sleep on it too.

And just like Daemon, he had not been man enough to take his wife’s maidenhead.

No matter how much he tried, he could not banish the memory of that night.

On the night of his three and tenth nameday, Aegon had talked him into going into the Street of Silk.

Of course, he had not said it was their destination.

I have a gift for you, little brother.

Aegon was not always horrible, there are good days and bad with him.

Aemond had mistaken his sudden interest in him that day as a good thing.

Why are we here? Aemond had asked burned with shame when the sight of scantily clad women did not repulse him.

“This is your gift. Tonight one of these ladies will make you a man out of you!” Aegon’s proclamation was met with cheers, drinks and whores for everyone there.

“I have chosen her for you.” Aegon had shown him a woman older than mother, in fact it was said she looked like her if you were drunk enough or so his brother said.

“Time to get it wet.” And with that Aegon had locked the door behind him.

Aemond had retched when it was over as he mourned his stolen innocence and pummeled Aegon at the tiltyard the morning after.

The feeling of shame, of disgust and the mocking laughter from his brother and the whores never did leave.

Every time he tried to give into the overeager ladies who gladly let him into their beds, he could never do it.

The moment he grew aroused and brave enough to fuck a woman, Aegon’s cruel laughter came back and turned him back into the boy with no eye crying in the brothel mistress’ bed.

It was fucking foolish of him to think it would be different with Aemma.

To think he could erase those wretched nightmares and replace them with Aemma, his Aemee who wanted him and would never hurt him.

Aemma who was stunned as he left her and asked him what was going on with her face wracked with worry.

Aemma who he knows is crying alone in the bridal bed mocking them with its crushed hopes and petals.

Aemma who does not know he may never be a true husband to her.

[evocationwriter]

[I can't really access my pics of Clover atm, and if I keep putting this off until I do I swear I'll never post it! I added a description below in lieu of pics lol (although, I think it would be fun to see how everyone describes their Tavs themselves, too!)]

This "meet my Tav" is brought to you by the wonderful @galeorderbride, who tagged me! I tag @thecurlyginger and @silent-words :)

This is my first Tav, so there will forever be a special place in my heart for her. Where it all began! Description: Imagine a constantly dirty lil wood-elf with olive skin, brown hair that glitters green when it catches the light, cut functionally to the scalp with a hunting knife. Her lips are naturally tinted green, and a customary tattoo of pale green vines snakes up her neck and frames her face - an empty space at center of her throat for when she earns the symbol of her ranger conclave. She has big, dopey forest-green eyes. Smol. Doesn't really sit down - just sort of perches herself precariously. A very serious-looking raven is always either on her shoulder or perched nearby (though, if you have "speak with animals", his voice is SUPER goofy and it's clear that he's just a silly little friend). Catch this shy bean in the shadows drawing all the cool plants and creatures she's encountered during their travels - after she's hunted and hung a wild boar to drain to keep everyone fed, of course. I have, as you can see, thought about this a normal amount.

Name: Clover

Age: 170-200ish, she doesn't know for sure, exactly.

Race: Wood elf

Class: Gloomstalker Ranger

Alignment: Started neutral good, but this whole mess ground her down to true neutral.

Deity: Simply, the land of whatever Plane she's on. But will send an occasional prayer to Sehanine Moonbow.

Favourite spells: Find familiar! (always the raven - naturally lol - his name is Eugene)

Armour act 1: Oak Father's Embrace, then hide armor +2

Armour act 2: Yuan Ti scale mail

Armour act 3: Helldusk armor (plus the helmet. Dyed it all green. She looked like a cute little swamp creature - I WILL update this with pics!)

Favourite dye: sage green

Weapons act 1: Gandrel's Aspiration (rip Gandrel, it all happened so fast)

Weapons act 2: the Joltshooter

Weapons act 3: The Dead Shot

Buffs: Longstrider. All day every day

Love interest: Lae'zel (her primal, aggressive flirting had Clover swooning in an instant), Gale as her bff

Favourite NPC: Malta, that prophetic cat in a random alley in Act 3 (I hc that they reunite again in a few centuries, as was prophesized)

Favourite enemy: Raphael. She marked him as prey since Act 1, so the kill was *so satisfying*

Favourite battle: Orin. Smoke powder arrows were the MVP of that fight.

Favourite dialogue: "Will you stay with me, for good?" from Lae'zel, which was said with the biggest puppy dog eyes known to man.

Decision about the Absolute: Chose Orpheus (what kind of gf woud she be otherwise!?), ended the brain and killed the tadpoles, let Lae'zel go off to fight a revolution - Clover hatched and started raising their child while she awaited Lae'zel's return. HC the three of them stay on Toril until Xan is of age, roaming about the wilds of Faerun and visiting their friends at random and without notice, and now they bounce between the Astral Sea, Toril, and all kinds of new planets and places like a cute lil happy space pirate family.

[fattybattysblog]

Finally Safe

A Tav/Gale story with my Tiefling Tav Saphira. Another in my growing collection of sleepy cuddles <3 I absolutely love writing soft characters and sleepy cuddles <3

711 words | General Audiences

Summary:

Saphira can't recall the last time she felt so safe.

"Is something on your mind?"

Saphira blinked at the ceiling, taken aback by the soothing murmur of her lover's voice. Her hands rested gently on her stomach as she turned to look at Gale beside her. He lay on his side, one hand cradling his cheek while the other traced delicate patterns on her shoulder.

The moonlight filtered in from the balcony, stars blinking in the vast obsidian night above. They had been in bed for hours at this point and Saphira found herself in her mind instead of attempting sleep.

"How did you know I was awake?" she asked. In the dimness, her vision remained keen, yet she knew his sight struggled. Was her tail betraying her nervousness again?

"My love, you have the most beautiful, kind eyes I've ever seen," he began, his grin tender and sweet. "And your natural one glows in the dark."

The heat rose to her cheeks immediately and she averted her gaze. An action Gale could clearly see. He enveloped her in his arms, resting his cheek against her shoulder and gently squeezing her. He was warm. Soft. An embrace that saw her through so much. Every moment of weakness, every hard decision. An embrace that gave her some small joy while they were in the thick of a terrible ordeal. One that tried to tear them apart every chance it had.

Beneath the covers, her tail wriggled uncomfortably, stirring up memories she'd rather forget. Long before the tadpoles and everything that followed, she didn't have it any better. her childhood was marked by relentless pressure to ascend to divinity—a fate she resisted, fleeing only to be forcibly returned. Peace was an elusive dream, each moment tainted by turmoil. Though their adventure was dangerous, she much preferred it to being at home.

There was no way to describe how she felt here. In Waterdeep, finally free of her father. Lying beside the sweetest wizard she's ever known.

As Gale's sleepy smile faded into a concerned frown, Saphira tensed, her thoughts swirling in turmoil. Sensing her unease, he murmured softly, "you can tell me anything, you know."

"I know... I've burdened you with a lot of my mind already. I should just try to sleep," Saphira sighed, her hand tenderly caressing his cheek before closing her eyes. Despite the lingering embarrassment, she hoped sleep would offer solace. Gale cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently across it.

No words were necessary. The worry etched in his expression, the furrow of his brow—it was clear he wouldn't let her dismiss her troubles so easily. A comfortable silence enveloped them, punctuated only by the soft snores of Tara from her nearby bed.

"It's nothing bad. Well... it started bad. But it didn't stay that way," Saphira said, hushed and contemplative. She pet his hair as she spoke. "Everything started badly, didn't it? But it got better. We... We all worked hard to make it better for all of us."

"We did," he nodded in agreement.

"For a long time, I didn't think anyone would want to help me. It just makes me so glad we met," her hand found his against her cheek, her other taking it to wrap her fingers in his. Gale's gaze warmed and he lifted himself to her face, meeting her lips. A tender kiss that warmed her from head to toe. He chuckled quietly, pecking her lips over and over again. Once for every time they aided each other. Every time they needed a reminder that their love was real.

"I'm glad we met too."

"I mean it. I've never felt so... safe... ever before," Saphira tried to pick through her words carefully.

Gale tugged on her shoulder until they rolled to the other side of the bed, placing Saphira on his chest instead. Her hair caught the silver moonlight, glittering in a cascade down her shoulders. Gale combed his fingers through her hair, tracing his fingertips along the base of her horns and making her eyes flutter shut.

He feathered kisses over her forehead, securing her against him with a solid arm around her waist. Ghosting his lips over her hair and horns until he felt her relax into the depths of sleep. Safe and sound in his arms.

[lcs-library]

A Tiny Love(Sakuya x Reader)

Notes/Tags: Sakuya x reader, except mc only shows up a little bit at the end so I guess it’s technically Sakuya-centric but shhhh, canon compliant, Happy Valentine’s!!!, child oc(?)(idk I just slapped her together so 😗), takes place during act 3 but has no major spoilers

Summary: “Sakuya-sensei, will you marry me?” “Pardon?” A strange request from one of the young girls at the daycare Sakuya worked at sent his entire day haywire. Happy Valentine’s Day!! Have a Sakuya<3

“Sakuya-sensei, will you marry me?”

“Pardon?”

A strange request from one of the young girls at the daycare Sakuya worked at sent his entire day haywire.

It wasn’t uncommon for the kids to play house with him(even if they called him a ham), nor was it strange for them to play wedding with their toys, but for them to ask a teacher? That was new.

Luckily, he knew just how to respond.

“That’s really sweet of you, Ena-chan, but I’m already someone else’s boyfriend!” He replied sweetly, kneeling down to the young girl’s height.

“You won’t?” She looks like she’s about to cry.“But I worked so hard on the wedding! And I love you!”

“Oh, um…”

In that moment, Sakuya had no idea what to do, but having a crying child on his hands wouldn’t be the most fun to deal with.

“How about we have a pretend wedding? I’ll be your husband for that if you want!” He exclaims with a smile.

“Really?” Her face immediately lights up.

“Mhm.”

“Yay!” She cheers, turning back to her group of friends, “Sakuya-sensei said he’d marry me!”

The girls squeal with delight as Ena takes Sakuya’s hand.

“Come on, I gotta show you the wedding spot!”

She’s smiling so bright, clearly super excited about this, while Sakuya can only let out a nervous giggle.

What have I gotten myself into…

She takes him out to the yard, showing off an array of paper chains and glitter, with the small play house serving as an altar, a group of girls surrounding it.

“You gotta go up to the marrying spot, okay?!” She squeals, running to one of the back corners of the fence.

He complies, making his way up to the “altar”, trying his best to stay composed.

At that moment, around a million thoughts and questions swarm his mind, but are interrupted by one of the girls skipping up the the crowd, sprinkling grass in her wake.

A moment later, Ena walks down the aisle, carrying an array of questionable plants from around the space, loudly singing her take on a wedding march. She held her head high, her steps stiff and practiced, as if she were waiting her whole life for this moment and didn’t spring it on everyone half and hour ago.

And, looking at her, Sakuya can’t help but feel an odd sense of pride.

That one day, this will be real for her, with someone she loves, and he would have touched her life permanently at that point. Ah, the wonders of childcare.

“Sakuya-sensei! You gotta kiss me now!”

“Eh?!”

No, it wasn’t a surprise to him that she didn’t know how weddings worked and thought of them as a fancy way to get a kiss, but the fact that she was insistent on getting one was freaking him out.

“Um, h-how about a hug instead?”

“It’s not the same!” She whines.

“But it’s a way to show our love, isn’t it?”

Please tell me I’ll get to live today…

“Hmm…alright!”

Thank God, Sakuya thinks to himself as he breathes a sigh of relief.

And so the two embrace, and they all lived happily ever after.

Until a few hours later.

“Ah, Ena-chan, your mom’s here to pick you up!” Sakuya calls back into the noisy room, welcoming one of the parents in.

Just then, all hell broke loose.

Ena rushed over, clinging to Sakuya’s leg, almost in tears.

“I don’t wanna go! Sakuya-sensei married me, and I’m living with him!” She wailed, gripping tightly to his apron.

“Hey, Sakuya, is your shift over yet?” You asked, opening the door to the daycare.

You couldn’t have picked a worse time.

Sakuya’s eyes widened, a “help me” sort of expression on his face.

“What happened here?”

“Um-“

“I’m not going! Sakuya-sensei married me and we’re gonna be together forever and ever!”

You firmly decided that you didn’t even want to know what happened, but tried to come up with a solution.

“Really?” You asked, frowning.

“I was looking forward to seeing him today!”

“Too bad! He’s mine!”

Woah, a feral one.

Thankfully, Sakuya saw what you were doing and tapped in.

“Ena-chan, didn’t we learn that sometimes we have to share our things? Maybe you should share me with my friend here.” He gently suggested.

There was a moment of internal struggle in her eyes, but with enough pleading gestures from the two of you, she gave in.

“Fine! But you’re still mine!”

“Thank you, Ena-chan.”

“Thanks!”

She let out a small “hmph” as she took her mother’s hand, yet took the time to wave “bye-bye” to Sakuya.

Once the two left, you just had to ask.

“What was that all about?”

“Well,” he replied, taking off his apron and hanging it up, “she tried to marry me, so I suggested we have a pretend marriage to prevent this from happening. I guess she doesn’t know enough at this age, and it’s all real to her.” He finishes with a giggle.

You let out a mock gasp.

“You cheated on me?! Sakuya, I thought you were a good, honest man!” You complain, lightly smacking him on the shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t want a crying kid on my hands, okay?” He defends, taking your hand in his as you exit the daycare.

The cold winter air greets the two of you, harshly nipping at your skin.

Thank God Sakuya is pretty much a natural heater, you decide, practically draping yourself on top of him, nearly toppling him over.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” He exclaims.

He plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

[serene-faerie]

RGG/Middle Earth Ficlet 2 ("Beneath the Starlight")

Months ago, I wrote an RGG/Middle Earth ficlet with Nishiki as an elf prince. Now, after months of ruminating and chatting with @saniremon (another RGG/Tolkien fan), I created a new one-- this time featuring Kiryu as a human ranger/heir of Gondor (aka, Aragorn), and Kaoru as a Silvan elf in Mirkwood (a mix of Tauriel and Arwen).

@saniremon @majimemegoro @unhingedselfships This one's for you guys <3 I hope you like it!

(Sindarin Elvish translations:

"Daro" = "Halt"

"Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn" = "A star shines upon our meeting"

"Ech pengor vaen ar maecheneb" = "You are an archer skilled and sharp-eyed"

"Veleth chîn thilia mi chinech" = "Your love glitters in your eyes"

"Gerich veleth nín" = "You have my love")

The Woodland Realm was eerily quiet.

This did nothing to ease Kazuma Kiryu, who kept one hand at the hilt of his sword as he trekked through the thick green forest. His senses were on high alert, and he kept a close watch for orcs or giant spiders– just in case.

Once, this had been a great, beautiful kingdom of elves. Kiryu had heard many stories about Mirkwood’s prosperity from Lord Tetsu Tachibana, and he couldn’t help the pang of sadness as he looked around at the trees. What he wouldn’t give to have seen this kingdom at the height of its greatness, when the elves and dwarves were still close friends.

But alas, those days were over. The Silvan elves were as reclusive as ever, and the hostility between them and the dwarves had only grown in these past years. The dangers in the Woodland Realm were getting stronger, and from what Kiryu had heard, Elvenking Yoshitaka Mine had become even more reclusive to the outside world.

As the heir to the throne of Gondor, Kiryu was already on good terms with most of the elves. He had the friendship of Lord Tachibana, and the trust of Lady Seong-hui, but Elvenking Mine still remained mistrustful of him.

The path to the Enchanted River was strangely silent. For once, Kiryu didn’t encounter many orcs or spiders that were trying to kill him. Kiryu wasn’t sure if he should be relieved, but he kept his guard up nonetheless.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of rustling leaves from his left. Kiryu’s hand went straight to his sword hilt, but before he could even blink, an arrow appeared right in front of him, pointed straight at his nose. And pointing the arrow at his face was a very familiar she-elf. 

“Daro!” She ordered sternly.

Kiryu slowly raised his arms, unable to hide his smile at the elf. 

“You haven’t changed at all, Kaoru,” he said. “Is that how you always greet travelers through the Woodland Realm?” 

Kaoru Sayama, head of the Woodland Guard, immediately lowered her bow. The sharpness in her dark-brown eyes faded into something gentler as she smiled, and it made her even lovelier. 

“Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn,” Kaoru said warmly, circling her arms around him in a warm embrace. “I’ve been waiting to see you again, Kazuma.”

Kiryu returned the embrace with a smile. “Ech pengor vaen ar maecheneb,” he greeted, seamlessly switching to Sindarin. “It’s good to see you again, Kaoru.”

He pulled back to look at his betrothed and appreciate her beauty. Like many other Silvan elves, Kaoru’s pointed ears had a slight curve to them. Her face had a smoothness like all elves, but there was also a unique sharpness to her features that made her even more pleasing to the eyes. And with her neat hunting greens and her pin-straight hair neatly brushed out of her face, she looked as regal as ever.

“And what brings the heir to Gondor into Mirkwood at this hour?” Kaoru asked with a teasing lilt in her voice.

“I only hoped to see you again,” Kiryu said to her. “It has been far too long since we last met.”

Kaoru smiled warmly. “You must be weary from your travels,” she said. “Come, Kazuma. Let me take you to the Elvenking’s Halls.”

Not one to refuse an elf’s hospitality, Kiryu immediately obeyed.

“The woods have been quiet lately. Hardly any orcs or spiders showed their faces,” Kiryu remarked as he followed Kaoru. “You must have been busy.”

“That I have.” Kaoru’s smile was sad. “We may have triumphed over the orcs, but it is only a matter of time before their shadow returns. The forest is safe for now, but it won’t be long before the orcs are back. But the Elvenking won’t even consider calling for aid from Lady Seong-hui or Lord Tachibana.”

Kiryu frowned. “Has he become more reclusive?”

“Yes, and he has grown more distrustful towards outsiders, especially Men.”

“I see…”

After a moment’s pause, Kaoru changed the subject. “Did you ever meet the Rangers of Ithilien during your travels?” she asked, eyes filled with hope.

From any other elf, it would be an innocent question. But Kiryu could hear the other question hidden within.

“We met them a few times, yes,” Kiryu answered. “Ryuji is doing well.”

“I haven’t seen my brother in ages,” Kaoru said wistfully. “When you see him again, please tell him that he will always be welcome in the Elvenking’s hall.”

“I will,” Kiryu promised. 

Unlike Kaoru, her older stepbrother wasn’t a full-blooded elf. Ryuji Goda was actually half-elven, though he’d chosen to be counted among the race of Men instead of the elves. Kiryu was fully aware of this, though it made him sad that Ryuji didn’t try to visit his younger sister more. It wasn’t as though Ryuji didn’t love his little stepsister– however, he’d said something about ‘not belonging among the elves’ as an explanation for not visiting. 

Kiryu only hoped that Ryuji would eventually try to visit Mirkwood– if only for Kaoru’s sake.

After a short while, they reached the gate of the Elvenking’s Halls. The guards outside were quick to welcome Kiryu, and they immediately opened the gates to let them both inside.

Kiryu had visited the Elvenking’s Halls many times before, but its beauty never failed to take his breath away. With towering archways made of wood, intricate gold gilding the columns, and shafts of sunlight shining down into the caves, the halls had an earthiness that set it apart from Lothlórien and Rivendell. 

The Elvenking’s servants and officials were quick to welcome Kiryu into the halls. The same could not be said for Elvenking Yoshitaka Mine. He gave Kiryu a brusque welcome, then ordered his servants to prepare a chamber for his stay, then ordered them both to leave him be. Indeed, he’d gotten even more reclusive since the last time Kiryu had visited.

But despite the king’s chilly welcome, the warm hospitality of the other Mirkwood elves more than made up for it.

“It’s good to see you again, Kazuma Kiryu,” greeted Yuya, one of the elven guards. “Your presence has brought much needed cheer to these halls.”

“Mae govannen, Yuya,” Kiryu greeted him. “It’s good to be back here.”

“You should join us for dinner tonight,” spoke Kazuki, another guard. “The captain has been waiting to dine with you for months.”

Kiryu smiled. “So I’ve heard.”

“Come, Kiryu!” Yuya clasped his shoulder with an amiable smile. “Let us enjoy dinner together!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, after a wonderful supper, Kiryu found himself in a secluded rock garden beneath a large opening to the starry night sky. White flowers blossomed around him, their sweet fragrance lingering in the air as a small stream snaked through the grass. It wasn’t as spectacular as the gardens in Lothlórien or Rivendell, but it was beautiful all the same.

It also helped that it was his favorite meeting spot– and Kaoru’s, too.

Kaoru had changed from her hunting greens into a simple, forest-green gown embroidered with simple patterns along the neckline and hem. And around her neck, she wore a golden chain with a star-shaped pendant hanging from it.

“Do you remember the night we first met?” Kaoru reminisced softly, taking Kiryu’s hands into her own. “I mistook you for an orc and nearly riddled you with my arrows.”

Kiryu smiled fondly. Oh, he wouldn’t forget that first meeting— especially the mortified apology she gave him after learning that he wasn’t an orc or mere thief. 

“You were a vision,” he remembered. “The forest was so quiet, and the skies so clear. There were so many stars that night. I thought I was seeing the Queen of the Valar herself.”

A faint blush dusted Kaoru’s cheeks. Kiryu gently cupped her cheek in his palm.

“You brought me here many years ago– during the Feast of Starlight,” he recalled, remembering that beautiful night. “You told me how you always loved the light of the stars. And it was that same night when I fell for you.”

“Yes… and it was that same night when you opened your heart to me, and I knew at that moment that you were my other half.” Kaoru rested her hand over his. “Your time will come one day, meleth nîn. You will face the same evil as Gondor’s heir, and you will defeat it. And when that time comes, I will be by your side.”

Kiryu looked down. He didn't like to think of his responsibilities. Truth be told, he still didn't feel worthy of being the heir to Gondor. He knew that he would have to accept this duty one day, but it was a daunting thought.

So he pushed it out of his head for now.

“Your faith in me is so strong, Kaoru,” Kiryu murmured, leaning closer to her. “Veleth chîn thilia mi chinech.”

Kaoru’s eyelids lowered, and she leaned even closer. “Gerich veleth nín, Kazuma,” she whispered. “For now, and for eternity.”

Their lips met. And for the first time in months, Kiryu was at peace. He didn't think about being the heir to Gondor, about facing evil in the future.

For now, he kissed Kaoru beneath the stars, and let the rest of the world fall away.

[thesongthesoulsings]

Glimpse of Us

Summary: Severus Snape's attempt at pushing Hermione Granger away did not lead to the outcome he had wished for. A story about second chances, spiritual healing and the difficulties which trauma can bring upon a couple.

Link to Ao3

| Ch. 2 | - | Ch. 3 |

Chapter 1

He watched her laughing, while one of the Ministry officials twirled her around.

Her brown – usually wild - mane cascaded down her back in soft waves and her elegant body was clad in a beautiful red dress, which embraced her beautifully. He was close enough to hear the laughter leaving her lips; the air carried it to his ears. He closed his eyes, imagining the freckles on her nose, and her smiling doe eyes fixed on him; trying to coax a smile from him, in order to join her playful banter. He could still remember her scent, her softness, her intelligent way of challenging him, and the feeling of being the focus of her attention. She had been willing to accept him with all his flaws and he had let her down. He opened his eyes again, his black eyes meeting the ones he had just imagined across the room. Her joyfulness had vanished and been replaced by a curious yet hurt expression.

Did she know he was suffering just as much as she was, if not more? She had suspected he was hurting himself by distancing himself from her, so she had told him a year ago when he was pushing her away for her own good. Hermione Granger had looked straight through him, although he had put on a convincing show. The words she had left with him a year ago followed him to this day:

“Severus Snape, you are a fool if you think I’m not seeing what you’re doing! You know what is the worst part about your masochistic tendencies? That you are willing to hurt the people you care for, in order to punish yourself! I’m not even sure what weights heavier – your self-preservation that makes you fear I’m a danger to you, or your self-depreciating thoughts. You deserve better… and so do I.”

Those words had been followed by weekly letters from her, to which he had not replied. He had ignored her as if she were a nuisance to him – which she, admittedly, was when she made his efforts to forget her difficult. He had treated her abysmally and did not lie to himself about it.

He missed her – bitterly. Nothing had managed to change his feelings for her, although he never was counting on succeeding in forgetting her. He had not pushed her away because he hated himself, despite her assumption. He had let her go because he loved her. He did not think worse of himself, than he actually was, but he had no illusions of grandeur. Hermione deserved someone who was not only willing to make her happy, but who had a chance of actually accomplishing it. He had made her cry so many times, that he could not bear his own incapability any longer. He had not been willing to make her suffer, despite his egoistical ambitions, and if he was honest to himself, he had not wanted to make himself vulnerable. The constant worry of her potentially leaving him made him leave her first.

The beautiful young genius of a woman started walking in his direction, her face – open like a book – telling the world of her uncertainty. A hand on his arm drew his attention away from her approaching form; his head swinging to the side, making him face Genevieve. Her green eyes glittered lovingly up to him, her free hand brushing dark brown straight hair behind her ear. She had approached him a few months ago at a Potion Master Congress and he had let her. He had been honest with her, never leading her on, and she had been appreciative of it but hopeful of a potential future together, nevertheless. At one point he had tried to convince himself that he was over Hermione, trying to find in Genevieve what he had with the wild-haired stubborn woman he had left, failing miserably. The woman touching him was perfect – caring, strikingly beautiful, smart, humorous, and ambitious, but she was not Hermione. Despite knowing that Genevieve was more than he deserved, and not understanding how she could show any interest in him, he always ended up comparing her to his former student. Having taken notice of whom was taking the liberty of touching his person, he immediately looked back to the witch who had been haunting him for years. She had stopped walking towards him, her face not speaking of insecurity any longer, but understanding, sorrow, and an attempt of seizing control. She was blinking rapidly, trying to process what was going on. Something in Severus screamed. He wanted to shake her, explain that she was the only one present in his mind at all times – even when he did not desire to have her there. He felt the need to pull her to his chest, enclose her in his arms, and follow his desire of making her his. Did she not know that he was trying to find her in every woman? In every place? In every piece of art? In every book he picked up, daringly trying to finally read it through without losing focus? Of course, she did not, although he knew from her letters that she had experienced the same. Her persistent writing had come to a halt two months ago, making him wonder if she had given up on him. Although his goal had been exactly that, he had ended up being terrified by the thought.

“Is that her?” The soft voice of the woman beside him asked. It took him a moment to respond with a clipped nod. The empathic witch seemed hesitant but pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek, which tightened his jaw. Her forehead found the spot where she had kissed him before. “Go speak to her.” He stood silent, not sure how to react to such words leaving her. His black eyes, which Genevieve had become fond of, searched her beautiful dark green ones. His uncertainty led her to enforce the encouragement. “As much as I wish I could persuade your innermost being to desire nothing and no one but me, I know that it is not in my power to do so. We talked about this before and I think we reached the point at which we have to admit to ourselves that we exhausted our potential as a”, she sighed, “couple.”

“I am not going to watch you destroy yourself and that woman, who looked at you, as if someone was about to rip her to shreds.“ The wizard scowled, unsure how to proceed. “We will talk once the time comes.” Her nudging him was answered with a look to the ground and an implied nod. When he raised his eyes once more, she was gone.  He forced himself to focus on what was relevant now, searching for Hermione who was not standing where she had been before either. Locating her, to his relief, turned out to be easy. Her red dress and curly hair helped him to find her. She was nearing the doors to the terrace, probably hoping to regain a clear head by capturing some fresh night air. Confident strides lead him through the ball room, the people surrounding him completely unaware, absorbed in their conversations.

He decided to follow her, not because he was incapable of controlling himself any longer – that was not the case – but rather because he made the conscious decision, that it made no sense to sabotage their lives any longer. Hermione’s loyalty to him had never wavered, and other men did not seem to interest her - or so he had heard from Minerva, who had let him know of Ginevra Potter’s unsuccessful attempts of pushing her friend to go on blind dates. He had pretended that he had no interest in the gossip, but the feelings he had to occlude did not leave him cold. He sighed, came to a halt, and massaged the bridge of his nose.  He had made countless mistakes throughout his life, but he hoped to be able to remedy the tremendous one he had made by ignoring the brilliant witch, who was standing on the other side of the glass door he was facing.

[indouloureux]

First, thank you for writing Joseph fics being that there aren't many related to him other than just about Eddie, second, could you write a Joseph one where he and you are taking care of your 4 year old niece while your sister is out of town with her husband and she practically doesn't let go of him during that time to the point where you develop a baby fever from seeing them being cute together, and a while after that, he brings up the conversation of starting a family together

joseph with kids AT COMIC CON 🥹

you can't believe he agreed to do this.

sitting in front of your niece with glitter all over his face, smudged purple eyeshadow over his eyes, a cute little tiara standing on his curls and holding a little fairy wand she gave him. joseph looks like he's in 'catherine the great' again.

she's "pouring" him a cup of tea, your boyfriend handing him the plastic cup. the last straw was the pinky he rose as a sign of formality. you take your phone and take a picture of them.

joseph whips his head around you, and it's just then you noticed his lips are too pink. "well why are you just standing there? have a cuppa!"

he raises his plastic pink cup before taking a sip of his non-existent tea. you shake your phone. "we gotta go, babe. my sibling's coming home."

like a disappointed child on a playdate, they both whine. joseph drops the wand, places the cup back in it's plastic saucer and wipes only the lipstick off his face. "can't we just stay for a bit longer?"

"yeah," your niece, small, can barely reach the sink, walks over beside joseph with a small pout on his face. "we're not done with our tea party."

"she promised she'd make me taste the brownies."

"i think you'll want to eat it next week,"

probably because she made them right after digging his hands in the dirt and didn't even wash her hands. also you're sure you saw a worm moving inside.

your niece is as stubborn as you, wrapping her arms around joseph's legs, resting her head on his thigh. and he's developed a soft spot for him because he silently coos and rubs her head, both giving you eyes so big and begging you feel like you're ruining a party.

"i'm sorry," you bend to kiss her forehead. "we can come back next week, though."

despite that, she lets out a small cheer. joseph smiles at you as if you'd told him the offer, rubbing your niece's hair. "alright, little one," he wraps his arms around her legs and helplessly carries her as if she weighs nothing. "let's brush our teeth."

your heart melts at the sight of him sitting her down on the counter and picking her toothbrush up for her, watching your niece silently brush her teeth while kicking her feet, joseph instructing her to brush every part so she wouldn't have any cavities.

when she runs back to the living room, joseph stops you by wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace, your hands placing on his forearms as he kisses your forehead.

"she's a bit hyper, isn't she?" he whispers, looking at your niece. "she said she thought i was iron man. i'm flattered, really."

"yeah, well, don't let it get into your head," you place your palms flat on his chest. "she definitely loves you. god, i remember when i was her favorite."

he laughs and shakes his head, eyes softening at the sight of you looking up at him all pretty and tired. "hey, what do you say we have one of our own?"

you furrow your eyebrows. "right now?"

"well not right now," he rubs your back. "soon."

with a quick glance to your niece who's doing a good job of cleaning her toys, you look back to joseph, and realize he's still got that make up on. you tug on your sleeve and wipe on his eyelids. "well, i'm not opposed to it but i'm not ready, either."

his face wrinkles, hands soft on your back as you rub the make off his face when he smiles. "it's okay. we don't have to do it now."

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3