#is this what I was supposed to do? ive never gotten an ask like this before

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi , i dont know if this is something you can answer but i dont know who else to ask.

So far ive had i think 2 cheating adjacent dreams. As in in the dream i realise its not good because i have a partner or they have a partner and i still want to continue cuddling or marking out.

The first dream was when i was with a partner and i dreamt of making out with a girl and i was able to think at myself to stop but then thought it anyway is a dream and tried to enjoy what i could.

In the second one, it was supposed to a mutual friend that my best friend has romantic ties with(i think recently broken up). And i initiated cuddling when the best friend left.

In both cases the person i did the act with was a fictional no name person. The only real people were the people i was hurting. Which makes me wonder whether i got the pleasure from the hurt more than the act) i am scared about if no matter how much i hate cheating i will have to make sure i dont do anything stupid by controlling myself 24/7.

I haven't cheated on anyone nor have gotten cheated on.

hey dude it's a dream. it's your brain throwing spaghetti at a wall going 'man would that be fucked up or what.' I have dreams about getting lost in big fancy neighborhoods; I don't spend all my waking hours sweating about taking a wrong turn. it's whatever, it doesn't mean anything. cheating especially is like. that's a choice you have to actively make, you're never just going to trip and find yourself accidentally bouncing and moaning on it with someone who's not your partner because that's a decision you have to make. walking around 24/7 going "oh my god I better make sure I don't cheat!!!" isn't helping anything, it's just feeding your anxiety. you have a weird dream, you wake up say damn that's crazy, you move on. chill.

[kings-highway]

have u ever considered ushione? (ushijima x aone) because i'm on a mission to get everyone on board with it. i also really like ushioneten, but we can start with ushione 😋

hmmmmmmmm 🤔

this elicits zero emotions from me. no positive, no negative thoughts.

I think as a ship I can respect it, but as a viewer of the show i don't particularly care for Aone, he's never been particularly interesting to me. It is also painful because I am not a multishipper in most cases, so the iron grip I have on ushiten cannot be let go. But I will give it a sincere thought!

I do think if they'd have run into each other in the competition hallway, Aone would have locked on and pointed at Ushiwaka as the ace, and Ushiwaka would have been so confused but assumed this was some kind of social convention he doesnt understand, and just decide to point back at him without emotion. And I think that would have surprised Aone. and also everyone else. I can imagine this pointing going on for several minutes as Futakuchi tries to decide if he should stop it, sparing baffled glances between these two idiots.

I think as a ship I can see a fun dynamic with Aone being quiet because he's quiet but Ushijima is quiet because he's Mr. Autism - that is to say, I think it's really funny to imagine Aone silently correctly his behaviour when Ushijima is Misunderstanding Something, but he's not very social himself so he just sorta... pushes at Ushijima and shakes his head like "no honey, thats not right, stop that."

I can imagine them very domestically, I cant imagine them very... romantic. I feel like they'd both be ass at planning dates.

I do think Ushijima would adore his turtle. They might have multiple turtles. I think Ushijima could be a turtle guy with enough exposure.

I do like Ushi-ships that include Tendou as the best friend still because I think thats very funny. Imagine Aone, finally getting a date with this very cool, very skilled and highly acclaimed player he's admired forever, and he's very nervous and he's heading to the Shiratorizawa gates, because that's where they're meeting, and Tendou comes swinging down from the trees (or whatever he does in his spare time) like "so you wanna date my bff is that right?" and I just feel like Aone would not enjoy conversations with Tendou like that. He doesnt even know who this is, he's just scary. Why is his super calm and cool new boyfriend's best friend the scariest person???? Ushijima would have to shoo him away.

Overall ratings:

For me Personally, my interest: 2/10

Potential/Concept: 8/10

[chiisana-lion]

years ago got this super cute lilac long skirt that ive never worn since getting it but would really like to if only it werent for the fact id hate to be perceived anything remotely close to femininely. and Especially by my extended family who i just know for a fact are waiting for me to grow out of my "phase" and be able to say "see that? you're acting like a normal girl now"

[fallentheatre]

my friends cant ask me if i want anything from food places because i always say the most unexpected thing. like just now i was asked i replied "i want a straw that i can chew on" like well done notos you really do know what you want huh

[emoboybrony]

Ill admit ive never been that into laurence (any his variations really) but something has been really bothering me since rewatching parts of MCD.

What really caught my attention about MCD Laurence is that he starts out as this well adjusted, loyal knightly and charming guy- and then after he becomes a shadow knight you just see this slow decay of him. Like hes slowly losing parts of himself and its causing him to become more and more unstable to the point where by the end of season 2 hes honestly kind of terrfying.

And ALOT of that is reflected with how his relationship with aphmau starts to shift. He goes from this sweet, suave and honestly pretty silly personality, to being so obsessive and vindictive towards her.

Theres this one scene, at the end of ep 95 S2, where aphmau has just essentially seen a ghostly image of aaron and is really shaken up by it. Laurence comes to sit with her and ask her about it. And at first, it genuinely seems like hes just trying to get her to open up so he can support her. But then it quickly spirals into him demanding to know why she cares about aaron so much and why shes greiving so hard for him, like its a problem. He becomes so aggressive and condensending to the point where Garroth has to intervene and he walks off.

In this moment you see how far hes really fallen, he goes from semingly reasuring and gentle, and by the end of it hes disrepecting a dead man, who gave his life to save both his brother and supposed love of his life, who he travelled and fought along side with for months, who close to the end of his life was taking care of an orphan (something he comlimented in aphmau), and hes thowing all of that out the window because hes taken Aphmau's attention, due to the fact he fucking died.

After that happens, aphmau has a conversation woth vlyad where he basically tells her that laurence has to accept what he is and go to the nether or else hes gonna go insane, and that the only reason he came back is because hes "chasing a fantasy". Aphmau responds by suggesting they get cadenza over so that he can be with family, and vlyad says she can do what she wants but implies its pretty much inevitable that laurence is going to hit a breaking point. And hes completely right.

Before laurence even gets to speak to cadenza, he eavesdrops on the conversation where aphamu reveals shes pregnant, and just immediately peaces out, out of fear that hes going to MURDER HER.

Not to mention that in that conversation, cadenza herself tells aphmau not to tell laurence because shes scared of how he would react. He has gotten so unstable that his own sister, who loves him more than anything, can recognise that he is a danger to some degree and shes RIGHT.

All this paints a stark contrast, the laurence we first met vs the man he has now become. Its tragic because its this inevitable downfall brought on by an act that was completely selfless, him sacrificing himself that got him turned into a shadow knight in the first place.

Even this is eventually tainted, his selfless act becomes a selfish one as he seems to cling to aphmau's love and affection as an emotional crutch. Aphmau obviously loves and cares for him deeply, but not in an explicitly romantic/sexual way. And if she doesnt love him the way he wants, then why is he suffering through this? Why did he bother to sacrafice himself at all if theres no reward? Its honestly horrifying how pretty much everyone who loved and respected him, makes what should be incredibly out of place predictions on him, but they always end up being right except for aphmau. She cant accept that hes changing and theres nothing she or anyone else can do change that. Its gut wrenching.

This all lead me to beileve that i didnt give enough credit to his character. I love this. This is the type off tragic story telling im here for. Theres so much more to this character than i ever expected.

Heres the thing.

Why the fuck do laurence's biggest fans seem to just completely disregard this? If you believed a good portion of the fandom, laurence is just this sauve uwu sad boy who was unfairly rejected and ignored by a woman who demamded the world from him.

Im dead serious, i saw people saying that laurence "deserved better than aphmau", that he deserved someone who recognised the sacrafice he made. Which like- there is so much to unpack there.

First of all, aphmau did recognise his sacrafice, she did love him and try to support him in the best way she could, even when literally everyone around her was saying it was a lost cause. She did everything she could for that man and forgave so much of what he did while struggling with the calling and she got nothing but shit for it.

Second of all, no the fuck he doesnt?? As illustrated in the examples above he did not respect Aphmau's boundaries. He did not respect her feelings. And by the end, he didnt even respect her bodily autonomy. Lets be honest here, he basically abandoned everyone he apprantly "loved", because bro tapped it before he could. She loved him so much, but because he wanted something she wasnt willing or able to provide, that being explicitly romantic and sexual attention, he just didnt see it. To try and argue that hes the real victim here, is in the same vain of "nice guys finish last". Him being kind, compassionate and selfless- shouldnt be reliant on whether or not this woman will fuck him or not. That is an insanely misogynistic way of thinking.

But most important to me in the context of this analysis- what is there to like about laurence with this interpretation? What possibly sets him apart from the gazillion other brunette pretty anime bois? Am i to gay for this? Is there something im not seeing?

I understand fanon can wildly divert from canon, and i understand that alot of this is probably down to the fact that i find dissecting and critiquing canon more intresting than reinventing it through fanon. Im locked into the Baldurs gate 3 fandom and i had the same experience there (laurence fangirls got NOTHING on Astarion girlies). But both experiences have left me with the same question- what draws you to a character, when all you do is boil them down to their most generic aspects?

I find Laurence intresting cause we are seeing this man crash out and become a monster in real time. And i dont see how he is worth even an honourable mention, when you take that away.

What is there left to be compelled to?

[yanderefarm]

Hihiii

Nephite when an other follower/ omega tryed to get with us?

yandere omega cultist nephite

cw;; religion, cults, omegaverse, violence

nephite is the least physically violent of the ocs ive posted so far but that doesn't take away from how scary he can be. he's so loyal to the church he has a lot of power for an omega.

y/n: do you know what happened to him?

nephite: he received divine punishment ^.^

y/n: right. i forgot you're crazy again.

nephite can't even breathe when he sees one of the slightly younger omegas flirting with you at a potluck. you're completely unreceptive to the advances of course. but he can't help but hear these words in his ears.

"alphas always prefer young omegas"

right now you were ignoring this harlot but for how long? how long before he became old and undesirable? nephite chewed his thumb nail until he broke the skin, only actually stopping because his mother pulled his hand away. she scolded him gently as she cleaned up his booboo but he couldn't look at her, he couldn't hear her. his sister noticed and teased him a little for getting so worked up over a random omega.

they were right. it was silly. he stuffed it down but he still spent the whole night attached to your hip.

it was fine.

but that omega didn't stop. if you left the house that omega would come find you and immediately start talking to you. his hands would press against your chest, his arms would wrap around one of your own, he would lean his body into you every chance he got. nephite's usually bright eyes would go dead the moment he saw the younger omega. what was he supposed to say? that filth never did it when he was right next to you, always waiting for you to be alone. and its not like it got more suggestive than just flirting. but it was driving nephite insane.

one day nephite was holding a sacred texts study group for omegas at your home. he had been so excited to be the host for this meeting, he spent the whole day making snacks for it! only to find, to his horror, that omega also arrived. you had decided to stay out of the living room while his group was going on but that just meant that horrible harlot could really get you alone! nephite had tried so hard to watch him like a hawk but he'd also gotten too into the discussion with the others. he never even realized when that omega disappeared from the group.

after everyone left he headed to your shared bedroom, excited to tell you about how it went. his hands pressed the door and his eyes immediately went dead. you were sitting on the bed with that omega, just talking. you had been showing him a book you'd been reading recently. his hand was on your knee. his shirt was unbuttoned. nephite felt dizzy, delirious with all the dark emotions bubbling in his stomach. he thought about killing that harlot right here, cutting off the filthy hands that dared to touch you.

you snapped him out of it, asking if group was over and then saying that harlot should leave. you escorted him to the door like a real gentleman. you asked him what was bothering him, if his group had gone poorly. nephite had practically tackled you into the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in your chest. he cried well into the night about all his insecurities and worries about you leaving him. and with every tear there was your reassuring hand in his hair, soothing him gently.

but that wasn't enough. the next day he went to confession with a pair of his frilly underwear stuffed in his pocket. he told the pastor the truth. mostly. he exaggerated the amount of adultery that harlot had really done so far. the pastor seemed to know he was being lied to but he trusted that nephite would only be bringing someone to his attention if they were a filthy sinner. the frilly underwear were icing on the cake. he told the pastor that he found them in the sinner's home along with a plan to seduce you.

they made a big show of dragging that sinner through the compound. wherever he was going he would never be coming back from. he caught nephite's eyes as he was dragged crying and screaming through the street. nephite held your arm tighter a wicked smile on his face just long enough for that foolish sinner to catch.

[munv]

𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗕𝗬𝗨𝗟 𝗫 !LYNETTE READER

its been a long time since Ive last written for twst..lets hope I start to get my groove back soon

heh..back to my wild crossovers era! Didnt think the day would come but here we are. BACK ON SCHEDULE BABY LETS GOOO

RIDDLE

when you first were assigned to his dorm, he couldnt help but notice you were the most rather..reserved, amongst all the first years. Not much to say, and not much to add when spoken to. You were curt, and straight to the point. Which made it a little hard to understand your character.

It had gotten to the point that prior overblot, he just assumed you were way too dismissive. You followed the rules, but at the same time it almost seemed like you never gave a rats ass.

He did however, notice a shift after his overblot. You became closer, often offering your companionship and such to help him get things done. Using your anemo vision which he won't comment on (he realized he wont get responses about it whenever he asks) to help him out every once in a while.

He has come to realize over time that you are quite the caring individual, especially when the two of you had to speed down the hallway just to barely avoid him. (you took the fall for riddle and ended up getting squeezed, he will remember your sacrifice)

Despite your cool persona, he can see in the little gestures is where you show vulnerability and care. Grounding him with subtle movements, or even his name when he loses his peace.

Riddle really appreciates you, even during his darkest hours

TREY

Trey was able to pick up on your true nature almost immediately after watching you for a while (not in the creepy way, the glances and small interactions are what count)

It may seem hard for others considering you dont show many other expressions other than curiosity openly, but Trey watches the way your ears twitch here and there at a certain remark, or even the way your fur stands on edge too. He finds it endearing to say the least. Of course he wouldnt say that out loud unless he wants to be minced meat.

Your glares are serious, he realizes

You often act as his little helper, similar to Riddle but a little more open with him. You have so much on your mind, yet so little to say, he also realizes. He really likes your sarcastic tone too. It could be a life or death situation and you would say the most craziest thing with the most deadpan face he cant help but sweatdrop and hide the smile fighting to take over his face.

Sometimes you help with baking, and your special dish? He really likes having you as his test taster. He remembers the oyster sauce prank he pulled on you. To say he hasnt seen your face twist like that in a long while is an understatement.

He realizes that you are often withdrawn from most conversations and kept to yourself at events. Trey liked to make sure everyone has fun and isnt even overlooked, so dont be surprised when he finds himself at your side with a teasing smile and slight encouragement to interact with your peers.

CATER

Cater is in some way, similar to you. With the reserved side of his personality and secrets that he carries, not many people would pick up on it. Outside of that, hes the flashy magicam guy that has "social butterfly" as his middle name. Compared to him, your just a quiet, cool and a cucumber type of person who would much rather keep to yourself.

When he finds himself overwhelmed, he finds himself in your dorm room and lays on your couch like a victorian woman who just found out the duke she was supposed to marry indeed, has a mistress like the rumors stated. Hand covering his forehead and a distraught expression as you sit across from his with a clipboard and pen in hand.

"[name]! its too hard being famous sometimes yknow..?!"

"Your alter ego, please"

"..You hate me" he sighs "but anyways, you know what the dorm head asked me to do earlier? Sevens, as much as I hate to admit it, that was so annoying-"

He respects the fact that you dont overexaggerate the tiny details and get straight to the point. No theatrics to make yourself seem interesting, just honest truth.

You guys have the type of dynamic where you somehow end up rubbing his shoulders while he vents all his troubles to you. You'd be lucky enough if Riddle doesnt catch you both

ACE

Loser #1

Lets be real, ace is a real jackass. At first? he thought you were just some boring stuck up for Riddle because you didnt want to get collared like the rest of them, and if theres anything that he hates? Its stuck ups.

Due to his natural little shit act that he has tatted on his soul since birth, he's going to try his best to rile you up any second. He won't lie, he likes the sass thing you have going on. Sometimes the banter gets to petty to the point you start tripping him over your tail, and he sneaks up on you while you're doing something important.

Ace started to really warm up to you when Riddle collared him and you spoke up for him, trying your best to convince Riddle that it wasnt necessary to keep him collared for this long.

He still messes with you though. So don't think for a second because hes gone a little less hard on you that your scot-free. He feeds off the fact that you don't entertain his foolishness and thrives

It literally fuels him like his next high, and you cannot be stressed enough.

He doesn't mind you being standoff in a way however, its the fact that he knows you care in your own little ways, thats what really matters to Ace.

He's a softie, and always has your back. Just refuses to acknowledge it, especially when you point it out? Its like an outrage and he just bursts into red.

DEUCE

Dork #2

At first, no lie, Deuce was scared of you. Not in he sense that he was scared of what you were capable of, but in the sense that he was scared of your silence.

It was like it had its own presence, a calm before the storm type of thing but you woulds never know when the storm was coming. He's like "[name] are you..okay?" and then you would just blink at him and he would start sweating and becoming even more nervous by the second.

There will be moments when he gets hot-headed and allows his delinquent nature to take over, so hes grateful when your there to ground him. Your like a parental figure to him, so color him surprised when he found out you were a first year just like him.

He gets really happy whenever you praise him too, which is rare, but you've come to realize that deuce is too much of a sweetheart and you give credit when its due anyways. No harm done

Sometimes he tries to be as level headed as you and ends up fumbling over his words, you cover for him when that happens and he couldnt be more grateful.

[shintaru]

m.list ♡ taglist

You were scrolling on your phone, bored, waiting for Wooin to arrive at the restaurant. You had some things to discuss about the League of Street Race. As you’re scrolling on your phone, you see back-to-back videos of a cute trend where you compare hand sizes with a guy friend/partner. You felt the need to want to join the trend, but you frowned, thinking you had no one to try it with. After all, you’re single, and the only guys you know are in your crew.

You’re snacking on the chips they left at your table when a familiar tattooed hand reaches over your shoulder into the chip bowl, snacking on the chips. He leans down until his face is close to the side of yours. “Do you want to try it?” Wooin asks, “Try what?” You were confused at his sudden appearance, considering you texted him five times about when he was arriving, and he left you on read. “The trend you’re watching, do you want to try it? I’ll post it on my account!” He asks you once again, you don’t even have to turn around to know he has a huge grin on his face.

You roll your eyes just thinking about his expression. In the time you’ve gotten to know him, he’s very hard to read at times, and he’s unpredictable, and you never know what he’s up to. As if he already read your mind, he replies again, “Relax, it’s just for fun.” Still a little skeptical he’s Wooin after all, you finally agree to do the challenge with him, reminding yourself to show Yumi later.

She knows how long you’ve had a crush on Wooin and she’s pushed you to confess to him hundreds of times already but you’ve shut the idea down saying it’s not the right time dating in the middle of an important race when there is so much training that needs to be done you don’t have time to focus on a relationship besides you don’t think you’re Wooin’s type anyway. “From the videos I've seen, it just looks like we’re supposed to compare hand sizes,” you inform him.

He nods in response, smiling to himself as he unwraps a lollipop and sticks it in his mouth. He then unlocks his phone, handing it to you. You click on the camera app and begin to press record, but wooin starts laughing, making you laugh so you had to stop the video” “what’s so funny?” You ask in between laughter. Sorry, he mumbles, “should we try again” he says while trying not to laugh. You can’t even contain your laughter. Once you two finally calm down, you try again. “We can’t laugh this time!” you say while stifling a laugh.

You begin filming the tik tok trend on Wooin’s phone you hold your right hand out to wooin lightly waving it in front of him like you seen the ither women do in the videos you had seen on your for you page. He takes hold of the sides of your hands with a loose yet gentle grip while slowly rotating his hand interlacing your fingers while pulling your interlocked hands closer to the side of his face while making eye contact with you.

You're certain he noticed your face heating up once you began holding hands, you begin to take notice of how his hands are slightly larger than yours, and they are soft, surprisingly, they are warm, but you had expected him to have cold hands considering his personality. “You know you can let go now, right?” he says with a signature smirk on his face. You quickly end the video and remove your hand from his grasp, trying to make it less awkward, which causes him to laugh.

You hand him his phone and he posts the video on his social media accounts. “Why were you laughing earlier when you seen me watching the trend?” you ask him. “I didnt think youd be into romantic stuff ive seen you harshly reject every guy that looks your way” he replies “That’s because they weren’t my type” you respond while looking over the menu.

A few notifications pop up on Wooin’s phone for the video he posted of the two of you

Ghost crew (hwangyeon): how did this pretty fucker get a girlfriend before me?

Grim Reaper: Are you two dating?

Wooin replies to Grim reaper: not yet 😏

Joker: Why are you holding hands? I thought there was no dating on the team

Vinny: 😤🤬

Dom: @yuna we should try this next 😊

Yumi: AHHHHHHH ik this would happen sooner or later 🤍

The waitress approaches your table, “Are you ready to order? We have a discount for couples today if you're interested in using it.” Before you could correct the misunderstanding, Wooin replies, “We’d like the discount.”

Wooin’s reference is Caleb from love & deepspace

Dedications:

@dzvelinaskebiyars @bfwooin

[psuedosugu]

Ohhhh my golly I saw your Vox x daughter reader an it got me thinking now HEAR ME OUT….what if reader got bored on day an just went for a walk and somehow came across Alastor, now let’s say Alastor’s a lil confused like he never knew Vox had a daughter and readers like *sad sigh* “I’d be surprised if anyone knew” an Alastors all fatherly to her at first it was to get dirt on Vox without reader realizing but in the end he just liked hanging out with her. Eventually Vox noticed how his daughter is gone half the time but reader just convinces her dad that she’s always home and how HES the one always away. Change the ending how you see fit or do whatever you like but UGH I love your writing stay hydrated and eat wellll🩵

assjjjkkj thank youuu the amount of feedback ive gotten on this acc that ive only been posting on for like 3 days is insane, anyways this is such an interesting idea omgee

cw: reader having some emotionally absent daddy issues

fem reader

pt 1 here

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

͙͘͡★ || so you had just gone out on an innocent walk, right?

͙͘͡★ || well, technically snuck out since your dad doesn’t like you going out by yourself.

͙͘͡★ || theres bad people out there! what if you got kidnapped or something?

͙͘͡★ || no one recognizes you, of course, since he doesn’t really talk about you let alone shows you to the public.

͙͘͡★ || you appreciate him for that, you guess, it must be annoying to not be able to go anywhere without a bunch of microphones in your face.

͙͘͡★ || you just wish he was around more! he barely makes any time for you and yeah, his work is super important and time consuming but you’re his daughter!

͙͘͡★ || lost in thought, you bump into a dude in the sidewalk.

͙͘͡★ || “whoops! excuse me, ma’am!”, he says in a weird, static-ish voice.

͙͘͡★ || your skeleton almost jumps out of your skin when you look up.

͙͘͡★ || the radio demon, the guy that your dad has had beef with since you were little

͙͘͡★ || you just stare at him with a “ :o “ look on your face, not knowing if you should run or not.

“little girl, are you, um, alright?” he stares down at you, slightly confused.

“im…uhhh…im okay!”

“you’ve heard of me, i suppose.”

“i guess…. my dad doesn’t really like you.”

“and who might your father be, hm?”

“yk the tv dude? the one thats, like, everywhere? yeah, that him.”

“hmm…interesting…i wasn’t aware he had a daughter…”

“well, he doesn’t really talk about…..”

͙͘͡★ || at this point you stop blabbing mid sentence, realizing you probably shouldn’t have said all of that to his sworn enemy.

͙͘͡★ || what if he does kidnap you and holds you for ransom?

͙͘͡★ || but he doesn’t do that, surprisingly.

͙͘͡★ || he asks you why you’re out alone so late and you shrug, saying that your dad wasn’t really there to stop you.

͙͘͡★ || you were naive and alastor was planning to use that to his advantage, not to hurt you, but to hurt vox.

͙͘͡★ || what would he think when he found out that his own daughter was buddy-buddy with his sworn enemy?

͙͘͡★ || he’d feel like a failure of a father, and thats what alastor wanted, to get under his skin.

͙͘͡★ || you guys walked while you told him everything, about him being away all the time, about you feeling lonely, while he nodded along

͙͘͡★ || you guys even stopped at one of those old timey bar places and bought you a milkshake!

͙͘͡★ || eventually you headed home, your dad hadn’t noticed you had been gone which figures.

͙͘͡★ || this became routine, you hung out with alastor and he gave you advice and stuff. you thought that if he had an ulterior motive it would’ve shown itself by now but no, it hadn’t.

͙͘͡★ || alastor himself had started to forget why he had even started all of this. he found himself enjoying your company and actually caring about you.

͙͘͡★ || after a while vox started to notice that he’s been seeing you less than he usually does.

͙͘͡★ || i mean, the tower is big but cmon! there were days where he would barely see you at all! where were you going?

͙͘͡★ || he confronted you about it at dinner one day.

“[name], dearest, i cant help but notice that i haven’t been seeing you around much lately. what’ve you been up to?”

͙͘͡★ || you pause, looking up from your food.

“i, um, dont know what you’re talking about.”

͙͘͡★ || he furrows his (virtual) eyebrows.

“is that so?”

“mhm!”

͙͘͡★ || vox is reasonably skeptical and resorts to spying on you through your smartwatch because of course you have a voxtech branded smartwatch!

͙͘͡★ || hes absolutely livid when he finds out who you’ve been sneaking out to be with and he’s waiting for you when you get home.

͙͘͡★ || you’re indefinitely grounded until he says so and he starts tracking where you go in the tower.

͙͘͡★ || he knows that its a violation of privacy and stuff but dont you see that he’s trying to protect you? alastor is dangerous! he doesn’t get how you didn’t see it earlier.

͙͘͡★ || alastor does succeed on what he set out to do, though. vox is distraught, feeling like a horrible father. he even vents to valentino about it out of all the people!

“-i mean, what kind of father doesn’t even notice their own child sneaking out in broad daylight every day? i should’ve paid more attention to her, im a failure!”

“mhm….yeah….”

͙͘͡★ || val obviously doesn’t give a shit.

͙͘͡★ || after not bumping into you for a while and seeing the up in vox slandering him online, alastor figures what happened.

͙͘͡★ || he’s glad that he succeeded in his mission to bother vox further but does miss talking to you.

͙͘͡★ || vox does vow to make more time for you and be a more attentive dad, so i guess some good comes out of this.

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

i do requests!

check out my masterlist!

[rookiesbookies]

Please I need more strength kink like you wrote for König but for the text of the COD men. Does Soap show off and lift heavier when he sees you saunter into the gym? Does Ghost try not to pay attention as you stare? I am down bad for these boys

So this is the most recent ask Ive gotten but dont fret my other requesters, yalls are taking more time bc they’re longer form pieces (I dont want to spoil but honeymoon/consummation night with Ghost (doing some research for this one), some Konig wifey bits (there’s two or three), and Ghost’s wife wearing his mask) Im so excited you all are interacting with me I just wanna say. I love you all *MUAH* big kiss.

Also I took Keegan off this one bc I don’t think I have a lot of Keegan fans reading? (ik I love him tho) so if anyone wants it just put a comment and I’ll write one and edit it so its in here.

Edit right here: I put Keegan down at the bottom. Dw Keegan girlies he’s here now.

Another edit: I put Krueger bc a reblog asked for it

Without much more here’s:

Strength Kink with the 141

Masterlist is pinned as always, also let me know if yall want any as full blown fics.

Price

Price is an “old dog” as he calls himself. He knows he’s getting softer, the wrinkles are setting in, he doesn't quite have the body he used to as a LT. Kinda got a dad bod after adopting 3 boys.

First time he sees you drool over him? He is down fucking bad. Will do anything to see his sweet lady all red in the face over him again.

Fucking saunters over to you, hits you with “you can feel if ya like, love. Go on.” just holds his arms away from his chest while he’s in his tank top.

If you take him up on this offer (and I assume yall are dating at this point) and even just grab at a peck, he is tense. His abs are tight, his butt is clenched, he is doing it all to seem like he still has his young and sharp LT body.

He knows you dont care and love his dad bod and all his soft pillowy goodness but sometimes he feels like the pillsbury dough boy.

Absolutely would pick you up and carry you bridal style at any chance.

Tells you he’s “just practicing” however he is very clearly showing off.

If you come find him at the gym to drool all over him, that max he was only supposed to do one of per set, he is not repping.

“John, are you sure- I’ve never seen you lift this much you look red-”

“I'm alright, love, just doing my reps trying to set a new pr.” Little do you know that by repping this, this is his new pr.

Gaz and Soap are sitting there mouth open because Price has never done that and not fallen over and now he just KEEPS. GOING.

And Price’s wife just keeps drooling over him as Simon spots the poor guy.

(This is what i mean btw)

Soap

The worst about it of them all.

I'm telling you right now, if you have an oral fixation on his muscles, he will mate for life like a swan. Because if you mark up his muscles he will do EVERY SINGLE WORK OUT shirtless until Ghost is like “Johnny. You look like a slut and smell like a whore with all that cologne. We’re in the bloody gym.”

He will walk around shirtless in the tightest sweatpants to show off his thighs and abs to you.

Will bench press you.

Put your weight on the hip thrust and will call you over or send videos of him doing it.

If you’re sitting somewhere he will just pick you up and move you for the hell of it under the excuse he wanted to sit there just to see you get red.

If you compliment his body once, I'M TELLING YOU ONE TIME, he will buy the TIGHTEST shirts imaginable around the house to show off his shoulders, back, pecs, biceps, and abs.

If you even mention having a bad day, your face is going between his pecs. He also absolutely can do the thing where he can flex them one at a time and he does it 24/7 for fun.

Catch him planking at the gym?

Feeling bold?Let’s shimmy under the poor bastard to look up at him.

“Do push ups.”

“Bonnie, the fuck you mean-”

“Come down, get a kiss, and go back up?”

“And if I fall? Which I won’t but I gotta ask.”

“Can’t feel any worse than when you dive onto the bed to wake me up in the mornings.”

He’s floored. Goes down, gets his kiss, comes up.

Price has watched Soap do more pushups than he ever has outside of a punishment when he was in basic training. Johnny has half the mind to let himself drop, smoother you in sweaty hugs and kisses. But he doesn’t. Not until he’s shown off. It’s embarrassing how much sweat is dripping from him though. He’ll just say you both need a shower.

Ghost

Totally doesn't flex when he hugs you.

Oh you think he does?

If you ask him, you’re wrong. Simon is the most casual of them all.

He’ll just randomly pick you up.

Like throw you over his shoulder, hold you like a koala, bridal style, you name it. Unlike Price, who is more careful about it, Simon has been doing exercises to work on his balance so he can safely carry you down a flight on stairs.

If he catches you staring, its over for him. He’s blushing under his lil mask, acting like he doesnt see you.

If you walk up and open your mouth to talk to him, he’s not listening to a word of that blabbery. He’s focused on the way you watch his legs while he’s in the leg press. How if he flexes a bit more you have the pause so you don’t choke on your words.

If you’re the bold on and you get down to the level of his head because he can’t easily escape this machine right now to say something. I'm thinking like a “Simon, I’m going to need a thigh riding session at 1800 hours. Put that on your damn schedule.” And just walk out. Don’t elaborate.

He’s struggling to get out of the machine, considering chasing after you, possibly having a stroke over it. He’s so flustered he’s down right gasping for air. If he didn’t have shit to do today he’d scoop you up and show you want all these muscles could do just to get you to feel like how flustered he is.

Konig

(see the fic about his wife seeing him lift, its on my masterlist (its pinned))

Gaz

By the time you’ve started dating, you know Gaz is jacked. Just look at him ffs. Anyone could see it.

So you do the only reasonable thing and insist on being his gym partner.

And in turn he will insist on spotting your squats.

If you get so nervous you fail a set his plan springs into action. Bro has it lifted in one hand. He doesn't care if it's a lot. He WILL be lifting it in one hand just so you can see how strong he is.

“Kiss for your savor?” He asks.

“Sure.” You reply, pecking his lips.

But no no no.

“Love, I meant you’re actual savor.” He’d say, flexing that one arm and pointing to it.

Just roll your eyes and do it. It’s easier.

He is GLOWING for the rest of the day. He will now take any and all opportunities to lift heavy things for you.

That big box? Lifted. Come kiss his muscles. Cuz if you don’t he's picking you up and putting you in air jail for being ungrateful.

I feel like because Gaz is so lean its kinda a sleeper build situation? Could be completely using that term wrong but IDC.

Lowkey loves nothing more than you feeling up his abs under his shirt when yall are going to bed. Like your hands feel so nice on them when he’s flexing extra hard so they’re rock solid for you.

First time yall cuddled he almost passed out because he was trying to keep his muscles flexed for so long.

Edit: here’s Keegan

Keegan

Keegan was always walking around the house in the sluttiest tank tops and the lowest waist line sweatpants you’ve ever seen.

He had been showing off since he first met you, so I’ll tell you how it happened.

What did he wear on your first date? Tight ass t shirt and a leather jacket with black jeans.

He essentially was giving a strip show when he slowly took off that jacket, made sure you were watching when he did it with a smug look.

“What wrong, doll? Distracted?” He was definitely flexing hard. Pecs and biceps on full display and don't get me started on how he was clenching to get his abs to show through.

He made sure to get real close to.

Oh dear is that a dirty puddle, let him just… yk… casually pick you up to carry you over the smallest puddle ever.

And when he’s at the gym? You are getting tons of selfies. Those videos of him curling weights that are slightly too heavy all because he knows you like the sound of the groans he makes as he struggles to lift it. Oh he is hip thrusting your weight and a half, so you know you’ll never be too heavy. There’s a video he sent that was 10+ minutes of just him thrusting your weight. You honestly thought it was looped.

Oh and he carries your weight when he runs on the treadmill so he knows he and run and keep you safe if need be.

Here’s Krueger (i got carried away, enjoy)

Krueger:

Sebstian knows he’s already strong.

Picking you up and benching you is his favorite hobby. The way you can't help but giggle and he has to scold you to stop wiggling.

He’s always throw around his weight with you. He knows he’s a big. He loves to lay on you to stop you from moving.

Loves to have you lay on his torso with the weight at his hips as he works on his hip thrusts. Got kicked out of a gym because it was dangerous so he got weights to do it at home. Will do it shirtless so you can trace his tattoos.

Definitely has never told you he committed murder because he doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like he’s your savior as you rub his sore muscles.

God he loves having you rub his muscles, he just tries not to drool as you rub his calves and biceps with all the force your hands can muster to gently rub the knots away. One time he felt so good he almost cried as you rubbed one out of the back of his neck, he got so bricked he couldnt help it he felt like he was gasping for air the pleasure was so intense.

He’d never tell you that tho, no he’d rather die and speak up and tell you how good it feels when your massage his muscles while planting small kisses after every knot you work out. Definitely going to keep asking you to work his aches away�� wonder if he can convince you he has a knot in his dick, no no wouldn’t do that to you not yet.

[ravenromanova]

You’re such a bitch

Pairings: Wanda x Female Avenger (Reader is an ex black widow)

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Mean Wanda (For a little) SMUT DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18+!!!!! Mommy kink, Fingering, ENCHANTED STRAPPPPP, Oral, Thigh riding. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE

Summary: When you get locked in a room with Wanda the two of you quickly figure out a way to solve your problems.

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

~

You could feel her eyes burning into the back of your skull as you landed blow after blow on the punching bag. She wasnt even supposed to be back from her mission yet but you weren’t gonna let her run you out of the training room You tried to ignore the daggers being thrown your way and just keep focusing but it was hard.

“Can i help you with something or are you just gonna keep staring at me?” You question the witch as you turn around to face her. She raises her eyebrow and scoffs at you.

“Just was seeing how the weakest link was doing” Venom dripped off Wandas voice as she spoke.

“Forget i asked” You pushed passed her grabbing you water and your bag before walking out of the training room not wanting to fight with her yet again.

Ever since you got recruited for the Avengers Wanda has been nothing but rude and bitchy. No one knows why in all honestly, everyone thought she would like you with how bubbly you were. But nope she treated you like a child, belittled your abilities and trauma, made you feel worthless and was just overall rude. At first you thought it was because you were new but its been three years of this. So you finally started snapping back at her and treating her like how she treated you.

And ever since you had started snapping back she had just gotten meaner. The team had tried to get you two to talk it through but that didn’t work. So they decided that the two of you weren’t allowed of missions alone or allowed to be along in general. Granted Wanda still got you alone just to belittle you like now.

“Why do you always run away? Scared of a little confrontation?” She sneered following behind you making you groan.

“Because why would i wanna sit here and listen to you belittle me Wanda? I dont even know what the hell i did to you” You replied feeling yourself getting worked up.

“Maybe if you weren’t a whiny child id actually like you” Wanda crossed her arms over her chest and tilting her head.

“You’re such a bitch you know that right? Ive been nothing but nice to you since i joined and you’ve been nothing but an ice cold bitch. I’m fucking done with it. I’m done with the snide remarks. I’m just done” Your words catch her off guard a little as she sees your resolve start to crumble. “You aren’t the only one who has to deal with shit and you just make my life ten times harder than it needs to be. Leave me the fuck alone” And with that you walk off to your room leaving Wanda in the hallway stunned.

As you walked away Wanda went to her room and just sat there feeling like shit. It’s not that Wanda didn’t like you… Hell she loved you but she was scared. She has never experienced love before and from the moment she met you she fell for you. You were bright eyed and bushy tailed when you first joined. You had been so nice and loving to her at first it threw her for a loop. So she thought that if she was bitchy towards you that you wouldn’t want to be near you. And it worked you started fighting back and Wanda was proud.. That was until she started to miss your sunny disposition. But she knew it was for the best atleast this way you weren’t tainted by her darkness.

When you had finally made it back to your room you had fallen onto your bed and broke down. You didn’t understand what you did to make her hate you so much and it killed you. Since the moment you joined the team the witch had your attention. She was beautiful and alluring and all you wanted was to be close to her until she started he shit. And once the bullying got out of hand you snapped back and it felt good and then you promised yourself you were gonna stick up for yourself.

You thought the shit you had to endure in The Red Room was bad? Nothing compared to the coldness you felt from Wanda. In all honesty you were still madly in love with her but gave up any hope of her being interested when the shit started. So you just decided to keep your distance from her even thought she never let it happen.

“Miss L/n Mr.Stark requests your presence in the conference room immediately” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you reluctantly walk to the conference room.

When you had gotten to the room you saw Stark and Wanda. Stark looked like a disappointed dad and Wanda looked like a teenager getting yelled at. They both turned to look at you as you entered shooting Tony a confused look.

“Ah y/n sit please” He said motioning for you to sit and you chose a chair farthest from Wanda.

“Uh why am i here?” You ask starting to feel a little anxious. The witch groaned and rolled her eyes at your question making Tony scowl at her.

“Well F.R.I.D.A.Y had informed me of the encounter between the two of you this morning and i think it’s time the two of you talk it out.” Tony said with a look of genuine concern as he looked at you.

“I dont think thats necessary Stark. Just keep her away from me and I’ll be fine” You try to reason with him but he shakes his head despite your protests.

“I’m sorry but that just wont work. You two need to talk it out.” He said looking in between you and Wanda. Wanda huffed in annoyance and rolled her eyes while you tried to argue with Stark.

“You two are leaving this room until you work it out.” And with that he ran out of the room locking you two in it.

“STARK!” Wanda yelled banging on the door and trying to open it with her powers.

“Sorry witchy youre wiggly woos wont work” He said through the intercom. “Talk it out or be stuck in here forever” Then suddenly you heard him activate barn door protocol and the entire room went on lockdown.

“Oh my fucking god” You groan resting your head in your hands. Wanda kept trying to open the door with blasts but it didn’t work. She eventually gave up and slumped back into her chair not even bothering to look at you.

The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the two of you just sat there staring at the ceiling. Sure you could’ve used this time to actually solve your problems with the witch but if she wasnt going to talk neither were you.

“This is ridiculous” She mumbled under her breath running her hand through her hair.

“You’re the reason we are even here” You remind her making her scoff in annoyance. “Why do you even hate me anyways? What did i even do to you?” The question takes Wanda by surprise and she stands up and walks closer to you. She leaned against the table in front of you making your eyes meet hers.

“I-I dont hate you y/n” She said softly pulling a chair up and sitting next to you.

“Sure seems like you do” You remark with your eyebrow raised. Wanda sighed and shook her head at your statement.

“That means i did what i wanted” Her words made you title your head in confusion and you furrow your brows. “I pushed you away because i didn’t want you to get caught up in my darkness, everyone i have ever loved has died its like im cursed. And when you first joined you were so pure and sweet and-and it scared the shit out of me. I’m sorry i hurt you i meant to push you away… not hurt you” Wandas confession was not what you were expecting. You looked into her eyes to see if she was telling the truth and you saw nothing but genuine truth behind her words.

“You aren’t cursed Wanda” You said softly grabbing her hands and rubbing your thumb over her knuckles. “Bad things happen all the time but it doesn’t mean you should turn yourself away from the good things.” Wandas entire demeanor softened at your words. For the first time in a long time she thought that maybe she deserved something good.

“I’m so fucking sorry for the way i’ve treated you” She apologized cupping your cheek with her soft hand. It felt like time was moving slowly as you and her stared into each others eyes.

“Show me how sorry you are” You whispered leaning in close to her your lips hovering over hers. Wanda wasted no time in crashing her lips into yours. You moaned at the taste of her as you kissed her with more passion than you thought possible. She grabbed your hips and moved you to sit on her lip not breaking the kiss once.

Instinctively you started to grind your hips down onto her thigh to relive the throbbing in your core. Her hands found their way under your shirt and grasped at your clothed chest. She was quick to remove your clothes with her powers leaving you naked on her lap.

“So pretty malyshka” She whispered kissing below your ear. You kept grinding down on her thigh leaving a wet spot on her clothed thigh. Her ringed fingers found their way down your chest slowly making their way to your clit.

“Oh fuck” You moaned feeling her cold fingers rub circles on your clit. You started grinding yourself against her faster as she plays with you eliciting moans from you.

“Cum for malysh” She eggs you on by adding one finger into you making you moan in satisfaction.

“Oh fuck mommy-“ The title slips from your lips before you could stop it and you halt your movements and stare at her in embarrassment. She looked at you with wide eyes smiling at the name you called her.

“Say it again baby” Wanda pleaded looking up at you with her green eyes and devilish smile.

“Please mommy fuck me” You beg picking up grinding on her thigh making wet noises come from your pussy.

“Fuck-“ She muttered picking you up by your thighs then laid you down on the table and spreading your legs.

Her tongue darted out to lick a stripe on your pussy. She moaned at the taste of you invading her senses. She started eating you out like she’s never eaten before.

“Oh right there mommy!” Your hands flew to her hair when she adds two fingers in you hitting your g-spot. Wanda groans when she feels your walls clench around her fingers sending vibrations through you.

“G-Gonna cu-cum mommy fuck!” Your screams filled the office and you were never more thankful for soundproofing than you are now.

“Cum for me baby let go” She mumbles thrusting now three fingers in you. Her pace never relented as she fucked into you hitting all the right spots.

“FUCK!” You scream and the knot in your stomach snaps and you come undone on her tongue.

“So good malysh” Wanda praised bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. The mix of your arousal and her cherry chapstick makes you melt further into the kiss. Wanda flicks her wrist and her clothes come off and a strap appears on her waist.

Your eyed widened at the strap that adorned her waist. It was red and by father the biggest you have ever had. “Need to be in you baby” She groaned rubbing the faux cock against your puffy folds. Little did you know that the strap had been enchanted so she could feel everything.

“Fuck me mommy” You plead grasping at her to bring her closer to you. She smiled softly at you as her hands grasped the strap and slowly entered you. Once she bottomed out her hips stuttered at the feeling of your walls clenching down on her.

“So fucking tight” She moaned setting a slow pace careful not to hurt you. You were losing your mind feeling Wanda kiss your g-spot with the tip of the strap. The room was filled with both of your moans accompanied by the sound by skin slapping against each other.

“R-Right there mommy oh my god-“ Your moans are cut off as you cum for the second time.

“Such a good girl” She praised fucking into you as she chases her own orgasm. “Fuck!” Wanda grunted as she came . Her hips stilled and she pulled out of you slowly despite your whines.

“T-That was fucking amazing” You said sitting up on the table trying to catch your breath. Wanda chuckled and flicked her wrist dressing you both again.

“Agreed malysh” She whispered giving you a passionate kiss. The two of you got so lost in each other you didn’t even hear the locks and door opening.

“Well done you two” Tonys voice came from the intercom. You and Wanda both looked at each other and giggled.

The two of you walked out of the room and went back to Wandas room hand in hand with smiles on your faces. When you get to her room you lay on her bed with open arms. She laughs and crawls over to you and lays you down on her chest.

“I love you” She whispers kissing your head.

“I love you too” You said with a bright smile and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The rest of the night was spent with Wanda showing you just how much she loved you and you relishing in her love. Who knew the bitchy witch could be such a softie.

~The end~

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other cites

tag list @cakechan123

[miguelhugger2099]

Hiii, I’m in love with your writing it’s a comfort for me atp. Could you please do grumpy reader where she doesn’t talk to others a lot. That makes Miguel look like an extrovert (even though we both know that’s not true 😭). Happy Easter 🐣 and or any holiday you celebrate.

Two Peas in a Pod

c.....comfort,,,,, sad hamster meme the highest honor i could ever get omg thank you i really liked this ask because its basically me haha my friend actually told me ive gotten better at being more welcoming and "nice" and another friend would tell me that i could never mask my uncomfortableness if someone was bothering me LMFAO but as alwayyssssss i can rewrite this request for u if ur not satisfied :) Art: nellwhre17 on instagram

Spider-People were supposed to be funny and outgoing. It was in their canon to have some resemblance to the original quippy and humorous Spider-Man. If not outgoing then at least a little endearing and sweet.

So the Spider Society is a little thrown off when you’re introduced to the team by Miguel. Both of your arms are crossed, your face blank and looking over other Spiders with neutrality. 

“Here’s our new recruit. She’ll be working more with Margo and Lyla. Think of her as one of your superiors like myself or Jess or Peter B.” Miguel tilts his head at all the other Spiders. “That’s all. Dismissed.”

He turns to face back to his console, returning to work on new files Lyla had presented to him. Some Spiders stay to chat with you. They don’t notice the slight discomfort and annoyance in your face.

“Hey! My name is Peter M! I think we might be the same age!” One says, his mask squinting to look like he’s smiling.

“Have you gone on a mission yet? What Earth are you from?”

“Has Miguel explained The Canon to you yet? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”

The commotion irks you a bit, the Spiders coming into your personal space so you shuffle away and your brows instinctively scrunch together. “No, I’m fine.” You mutter curtly. The others finally see the change in your demeanor and they awkwardly step back.

Miguel turns over to see the few Spiders around and barks at them to stop. “She’s still new to all this so don’t go around pestering her.” 

They smile wearily up at him then at you, whose face is still contorted a bit in a way that looks like you’re obviously still being bothered. 

They get the message and wave goodbye to you but not without feeling a chill down their spine at how cold you were. Maybe you were just shy. Everything is and always will be overwhelming around here with different variants of yourself. So, they believed in time you’d come around like the others.

You, in fact, did not come around. After weeks, months even, you still came in and left without a word. Get in and get out. You rarely engaged in conversation and if you were in a group, you’d keep to yourself. If someone tried to include you, you’d just say a few blunt words that didn’t move the conversation at all so there'd be an awkward standstill before moving on.

No matter what, no one knew anything else about you besides your name, you were a Spider-Woman and the name of your Earth.

Even the esteemed group of young SpiderLings couldn’t even get you to open up. Jess and Gwen had just come back from a mission, wanting to eat at the cafeteria before heading home. They had found seats beside Hobie and Pav who were just catching up together.

Pav had mentioned trying to talk to you once but his bright personality pushed you further and further away from him, your responses to his questions becoming more and more short and quick.

“I’ve never met such a complicated individual.” He pouts, crossing his arms on the table.

“Don’ bother me none. I don’ like someone tryin’ to bug me either.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck. 

“Would’ve thought they opened up by now.” Gwen brushed her hair out her face. “It’s like pulling teeth with her.”

“She just seems kinda grumpy sometimes…” Pav sighs resting his head in his arms. “Even more than Miguel which feels wrong.” 

“Yeah, at least Miguel snaps at you but she…kinda just sits there.” Gwen leans back with a weak smile. “Not really sure how to make conversation when she’s so quiet.”

“She just doesn’t feel like talking, guys. Go easy on her.” Jess rubs her temples. 

Their conversation is cut short when Miguel walks through the cafeteria, documents in hand and with you in tow. Speak of the Devil. 

“Jess, Gwen, I misremembered about giving you the reports of your last mission together. I also have the analysis for the next one on Earth—199B.” Miguel hands the reports to Jessica and she immediately skims through it. Gwen looks over her shoulder and gives you a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asks. 

You respond with a shrug and a nod. “Good.”

Gwen’s smile wavers, laughing nervously as the awkward silence. She expected some sort of greeting back. 

Miguel answers for you. “She’s been with me the whole day since Peter’s been busy at home.” Gwen looks to Miguel.

“And how about you, boss? Doin’—uh—doin’ good?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. “Better now that Margo fixed what Hobie broke in the console room.”

Hobie tsks. “Did not. You’re jus’ blamin’ me ‘cause I’m the scapegoat around ‘ere. Tha’ it?” 

Miguel pulls up camera footage from his Gizmo, of Hobie pulling apart different motherboards and CPUs from the server and tucking them away in his pocket. “Is this not you?!”

Hobie squints at the footage and shrugs. “AI has truly come a long way, mate. Bettah check tha’ out.”

Gwen, Pav and Jessica laugh at the scene, giggling at the sheer anger on Miguel’s face and Hobies indifference. You watch with a soft smile up at Miguel but nothing else.

Miguel feels your hand on his forearm and he looks down at you. You nod your head to the side, signaling it’s time to go. He looks at the time on his watch and collects himself. 

“We’re gonna head out. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency and be alert for any sudden messages should I need to contact any of you for anomalies.” He turns and gives a small wave before leaving, you trailing behind him.

You don’t say much other than looking behind to give them a small nod and following beside Miguel.

The group watches as Miguel talks to you, relating information and talking your ear off about missions and the to-do for the day. You listen quietly, eyes held on his and nodding along.

They glance at each other and think they would’ve never seen a person more closed off than Miguel in their lifetime. Even less where it looks like he’s more talkative compared to you. What an odd pair. “I think she has opened up. Maybe just not with us.” Jess leans back with a smile.

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

I haven't really gotten asked about how to get into various forms of sex work in a while cuz Ive been taking a break from my digital whoring the last few weeks so haven't really talked about it on here, but when I do get asked, my answer is always the same: fucking don't. For a million reasons, fucking don't.

One of the biggest reasons is just the fact that there is just so much to learn about hustling that can't be taught by anything besides a whole ton of really painful experiences. From where I sit, selling sex is a game with a winner and a loser, and before you learn to become a winner, you're gonna lose over and over and over.

On my first ever FS job, like something that wasn't a fucking blow n go, I got stiffed the full amount. Dude had built up trust with me for a few weeks, buyinbg pics and and a custom vid, paying me pretty decent too. Nothing crazy, but for 19 year old me, 60$ for a pack of pics was pretty good. So when we did an in person session, I didn't ask up front. I knew I was supposed to, but, I mean it's a little awkward, it requires assertiveness, and I figured it'd be fine anyway. He won, I lost. I knew what I was supposed to do, but it took getting raped to get me to pay attention. In truth, it took me a couple rapes to learn that lesson.

When you're desperate, whether it's for money or drugs or whatever, you get so caught up in the fantasy of a few 20s or a bag in your pocket that you get fuckin played. You want it to be real so fucking bad that you get tunnel vision and ignore all the tripwires you're walking over. And then you lose and he wins and you slowly come to accept what you knew all along which is that you got played like a fiddle and today was never going to be payday.

And idk, maybe this is just the fuckin addict in me, maybe other bitches don't gotta get raped to actually learn that shit, but I definitely did and I am so grateful it mostly all happened to a me that was so fucked up all the time that she couldn't even remember the real bad shit if she wanted to. And that's why I can't recommend anyone getting into the field for the first time: takes a whole lot of losing before you start learning to win some.

[ineffablecabbage]

#10 Benton/Carter

(5 sentences WHOMST? I don't know her.)

(Trigger Warning: Season 3 spoilers for those of you watching the first time ;) , character death, nightmares, PTSD in general)

Teachers are supposed to remain impartial, but Peter won't pretend that there's anyone at County who thinks that he actually follows that ethical standard.

He is harder on some students. He … favors others more. It's possible, he will concede to a voice that sounds suspiciously like Mark Greene in his head, that he favors one more than others.

Still, he wants them all to succeed, and no matter what anyone might think, the death of Dennis Gant will never not affect him. So he expects nightmares. He could have handled nightmares.

What he can't handle is seeing Carter's broken body in the Gant's place. He can't handle night after night of Carter's voice in his dreams telling him that everything is his fault, right before he jumps in front of a train. He can't handle his hands inside Carter's chest, trying to bring him back only for Carter to die again and again. He can't handle Mark Greene insistently calling time of death just before Peter wakes up, covered in sweat.

On the first night of this, he goes to the hospital the next day, and prying eyes seem to know that he's half out of his mind. He is jumpy. Well, why shouldn't he be? One of his students jumped in front of a train, and he has nightmares of another doing the same.

And Carter… Carter who wants to fix everything won't stop trying to make everything better. He won't shut up about the memorial service. About what they could have done differently.

Peter isn't kind to him; it only makes the nightmares worse.

In these nightmares, Carter reaches out for him, begging for Peter to save him, and Peter tries, but it's not enough. He wakes up, unable to even gasp for breath, uncertain that the reality that he saw in his dreams wasn't true.

By the time he makes it to the hospital, to say that he is in a foul mood would be an understatement.

And then one of the medical students in the medical services makes everything worse because when Carter - dear, sweet Carter who wants to make everything better - tries to show them how to insert an IV, they end up tripping him.

It's enough that Carter needs sutures on his forehead.

It is possible that Peter loses temper. It's possible that he calls into question all of the teaching skills of the Emergency Department. It's possible that he gets into a shouting match with Kerry Weaver and Mark Greene before grabbing Carter by the arm and hauling him to the suture room.

"Hey!" Carter protests. "What has gotten into you?"

"You have to be more careful!" Peter says as he shuts the door and pulls the curtain shut. "You have to stop being so reckless and careless!"

Carter's brown eyes flash with barely contained fury. "Oh, really? Since when do you care?"

"Sit down, Carter. Let me take care of your head before you bleed to death."

"I'm not going to bleed to death," Carter protests. But he listens and takes his seat so that Peter can take care of the wound.

For several quiet moments, Peter focuses on his sutures. But in truth, it was minor wound, so the process doesn't take that long. Still, he is reluctant to let Carter go. This version of him, alive, angry at Peter, and flushed cheeks is so much better than the one that haunts Peter's nightmares every night.

"Are you done now? Can I go?" Carter asks.

And the answer should be yes.

Instead, Peter cups Carter's face and tilts his chin up so that Carter has to look at him. Surprise and confusion fills those dark eyes, instead of the defiance that had been there moments before.

"What - "

"You need to be more careful," Peter repeats. "Promise me."

"I promise?"

"I don't want to have to have my hands inside your chest, trying to bring you back to life, Carter. The thought of you lying on a gourney fighting for your life makes me forget how to breathe. Promise me."

Carter's gaze softens, and he takes pity on Peter. Now, Peter would like to argue that he doesn't need pity, but his sleep schedule over the past two nights would argue otherwise.

"Look at Peter Benton, having actual feelings for his intern," Carter says. The words are sarcastic, but the tone is one of confusion. This man is apparently the only one in the whole hospital who is unaware that Peter is incapable of being impartial when it comes to him.

The man is infuriating. So infuriating, when what Peter is trying to say is so important. He's stubborn and infuriating and he won't listen to anything Peter is trying to say, no matter how clearly Peter is saying it.

Which is why Peter leans forward and brushes his lips along Carter's.

Carter remains perfectly still for only a fraction of second, and then all of the pushy, needy enthusiasm that Carter has always displayed as his student - all of the desire to be wanted - is pushing back against his mouth, and Peter pushes back against those lips with all of the desperation that two nights full of dreams of a dying Carter have given him. It's not enough for Carter, of course; that neediness makes Carter run his tongue against Peter's lips hesitantly, as if he is afraid of asking a question that he's not even sure he has the right to yet. Peter responds by parting his lips, and the moan that Carter makes is loud enough that Peter worries it can be heard at the nurse's station.

He breaks the kiss, though it seems cruel to them both.

"Promise me," he repeats.

"I promise," Carter says, and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, which looks appropriately bruised in the harsh lights of the suture room.

Peter has spent more than a little time thinking unkind thoughts about Abby Keaton and her extra cirricular activities with Carter; yet, here he is now, looking at that bruised lip and wondering how it would look in the softer lighting of Peter's bedroom.

There's a knock at the suture room door.

Peter lets go.

"Peter, there's a GSW, ten minutes out," Haleh says.

"Got it," he says.

And he gets up, and he leaves.

~*~

That night, his nightmares end.

But Carter still haunts his dreams.

[celtigxr]

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. iv: unforgiven

Chapter Summary: The dinner with the reunited families goes about as well as everyone thought it would.

Word Count: 3703

Sneak Peak: “Oh, shit,” Aegon spoke into the rim of his cup, a wide grin upon his face.  Floris choked, forcing Clement to pat her on the back.  Shyla gasped, then promptly hid her mouth with her hands. “Valeana,” Arthor hissed at her, though it fell on deaf ears. 

Warnings: None, i think. Language, I suppose, lol.

T H E   R E D S

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Valeana never hated her step sister more than that very moment when they gathered around the table. Floris bumped into her shoulder to take her place at Clement’s right before Val could get there. By all rights, as Bartimos’ second child, she should have sat next to her brother, but Floris was always adamant that the order of things go by age, and that she was Bartimos’s eldest daughter, not Valeana. 

Floris has always been a shrew, but her attitude had soured with age. She had become more entitled and frequently bullied her sisters to do what she wanted them to do. Shyla was far too fragile to disobey, and Val picked her battles. Sometimes the headache wasn’t worth the effort. 

Valeana bit her tongue as she descended into her chair, forcing herself to keep her head down, gaze away from the man across from her. Which was difficult. All her effort was put into the muscles of her neck and face, willing herself to be as close to a statue as humanly possible. Her cheek faced Aemond while she pretended to listen to the King’s toasts. From the corner of her eye, she could see him openly staring, only breaking when his father stood up to toast to forgiveness.

That was when Valeana looked at Aemond without fear of eye contact. How could he, when she now faced the side of his face that was marred and sightless. A pity, a small voice said in the back of her mind. He had such pretty lilac eyes. He still had that regal profile, though, with that strong jawline and aquiline nose. He still had those sharp bow-shaped lips. The softness of his boyishness long gone, replaced by chiseled cheekbones and sharp edges. He reminded Valeana of the tip of a sword. Proud, regal, dangerous, lethal. Unlike a sword, Val had the intrusive desire to run her tongue down the slope of his jawline.

Cursing herself, she tore her eyes away.

As more food was placed upon the table, conversations took place. The adults conversed in pleasantries filled with nostalgia, and the youth exchanged awkward glances, pretending to pay attention to what they were talking about.

Until the silence was finally broken. 

“Sunfyre must be very big now, Prince Aegon,” Shyla craned her neck to find the prince in question. “I remember when he was the size of a horse.” 

Aegon’s ears perked up at the mention of his dragon; it was clear that the beast was his greatest pride. 

Still chewing on a roll, Aegon replied, “Oh yeth,” he took a cup of wine and drank down his morsel. “He’s gotten quite large. Big enough to fly two in his saddle.” 

Shyla’s face lit up like the Grand Sept on Maiden’s Day, though Valeana was the only one who really caught it. She knew exactly how her sister perceived his words: she believed that Aegon was offering her a ride on Sunfyre. 

Valeana remembers Aegon threatening to set her on fire once, because she wouldn’t stop asking to come to the Dragon Pit. They were never allowed, not even with Helaena, who’s dragon, Dreamfyre, was already domesticated and well trained. The Dragonkeepers wouldn’t allow it, and neither did their father. 

“If that were true, then I’d imagine Vhagar could seat double,” Surprisingly, it was Arthor who spoke. Val wasn’t used to her youngest sibling speaking when the crowd was more than three. However, he had always been fascinated by dragons, ever since he saw the Cannibal flying around Crackclaw point. 

The black wild dragon was an island regular, being so close to Dragonstone where his cave was located. When Valeana sequestered herself in her room, she would spend hours on her balcony, watching him, imagining herself being the only person alive that could claim him. The Cannibal, the wildest, largest, and dangerous of dragons alive. No one even knew how old he was, or where he came from, or how he ended up feasting on his own kind, and that made the creature all the more interesting to her. 

Though she did not have the blood of the dragon, and so she kept her fascinations to herself. 

Aemond turned to the young Celtigar, his smirk like coiling ribbon, “Vhagar is as mighty as her size, but I would not say she could seat four and still fly unimpeded. Three at most, I would say.” 

For the first time since they arrived, Arthor smiled, “That is still impressive. I should like to see her, if it is not too much trouble.” 

“I would not get your hopes up, brother,” Valeana found herself talking despite her unofficial vow of silence. Her eyes never left her plate as she cut her venison in bite size pieces, “The Dragonpit is reserved for dragonriders and their keepers.”

There was a moment of surprised silence before Aemond spoke, “Vhagar is far too big for the Dragonpit. So, to answer your question, Arthor, it would not be too much trouble, if we find the time.”

Valeana still hadn’t looked up from her food. 

“Would you care to join us, Valeana?” 

She froze, fork hovering over her plate, halfway to her lips. This was the first time he had said her name in ten years, at least in her presence. The first time he directly acknowledged her. There was a strained aura at their end of the table, one that the adults weren’t paying attention to. 

“It can be quite daunting to be in the shadow of a beast of Conquest, but Vhagar is quite loyal to me. You will be safe under my supervision,” He continued when his question went unanswered. 

Val hummed, and her body unfroze like a ship at full canvas when the rush of wind from an upcoming storm pushed it into life. No, she couldn’t help herself… Her mouth was already open, tongue sharp like an arrowhead. 

“Am I? Forgive me my skepticism, Prince Aemond, but the last time I stood near you, I nearly lost my life. I do not trust you near a flight of stairs, let alone a dragon,” this time she looked directly at him, her sentence punctuated by how she put the food in her mouth. Her teeth sliding against the metal utensil as she pulled the morsel free. 

“Oh, shit,” Aegon spoke into the rim of his cup, a wide grin upon his face. 

Floris choked, forcing Clement to pat her on the back. 

Shyla gasped, then promptly hid her mouth with her hands.

“Valeana,” Arthor hissed at her, though it fell on deaf ears. 

Aemond’s jaw tightened as he tried to hold her venomous gaze, but ultimately failed. He turned his cheek to her, directing his attention to his cup instead. 

“You do not need to make this more difficult than it needs to be,” His voice seemed softer, as if defeated or tired. “This is the season of peacemaking, is it not?”

Valeana couldn’t stop her eye roll, and when she did, she spotted the heated glare Floris was giving her. 

Be. Nice. She mouthed. 

No. Val mouthed back. 

Floris cleared her throat, “Right you are, Prince Aemond. I have many fond memories of our shared youth.”

“Mhm,” Valeana nodded sarcastically as she viciously cut a carrot in half, “Like that one day when Aegon told you he had a present waiting for you in a room, and you foolishly opened a water closet while Septa Jeyne was–”

“-- I remember no such thing,” Floris was quick to shake her head, her hands making quick work of the meat on her plate. 

"I do!" Aegon giggled into his cup. "I'll never forget Septa Jeyne's face," Aegon mimicked the old woman's look of shock, a silent scream on his tongue. 

Floris' face was as red as the wine in her goblet that she tried to hide in. 

Aegon continued, pointing at Valeana, "Do you remember when I stole one of Helaena's bugs and put it down the back of your gown?"

"Vividly," Val's tone dripped with cynicism as she side-eyed her sister, "Such fond, fond memories." 

Helaena had a pained expression on her face as she turned to her brother, "The one with the many legs? I was looking for that bug for days. I cried, Aegon, remember?"

Her brother's face dropped, and something akin to shame replaced the mischievous expression, "I-- Helaena... You had so many-- It was only a bug--"

"Do you still collect insects, Princess?" Valeana decided to alter the direction of the conversation, saving Aegon from an awkward non-apology, and from Helaena having to endure it. 

The Princess turned away from her brother, her features changing to something less pained, and more content. Val had clear memories of the princess being so far removed from her brothers, it was difficult to see how they were related if she did not consider her features. Though their shared memories together were limited to embroidery, since Helaena seldom left her areas of comfort, and the Celtigar girls had no taste for remaining in the same rooms from dusk to dawn. Shyla and Floris in particular couldn't stand being around the many-legged creatures that Helaena loved so dearly. Valeana had no opinion of it; she knew she didn't care for insects enough to handle them with her own hands, but she had always watched the princess from a careful distance with Queen Alicent.

She nodded, a smile showing her pride on it, "I do. One of my spiders had recently mated and made an egg sack."

Shyla made a horrified face. 

"Y'know, Clement sails quite frequently to Pentos. He has seen quite exotic ones you may be interested in."

That got Helaena's attention, based on how her spine straightened and her knife and fork were forgotten, "Oh?"

Clement looked up at her, and offered her the small smile, "Uh, yes, Princess. Though, I did not know you were fond of such creatures, otherwise I would have brought one with me." 

Helaena asked what was the most interesting ones he had found, and the conversation went on like that between the two. With the attention moved off of her, Valeana turned back to her food and ate silently. The minutes went by with nothing of interest being said; Aemond talked more than Valeana, though only to answer questions by the others (sans Clement) and Val was resolute in not looking at him when he talked. It wasn't until the King's voice reached their end of the table that she looked up from her emptying plate. 

"Tell me, ladies, do you still sing? This old Keep was desperately missing the beautiful voices of the Celtigar girls."

Bartimos chuckled into the handkerchief as he wiped his mouth, "Oh yes, there is nothing like the song of the Sirens of Claw Isle. Girls, why don't you give us one or two?"

"Of course, papa!" Shyla stood up immediately, grin broad and eager.

“It would be an honour to perform for His Grace, and his family,” Floris replied demurely. 

Valeana straightened in her seat, and her mouth went dry when she turned to her father, a slight panic in her words as she spoke. 

“My lute is still packed with my belongings.”

Bartimos opened his mouth, but Viserys spoke before he could, “That’s quite alright, my dear. Your voice is instrument enough.” 

Sensing his daughter’s unease, Barty adjusted himself in the chair to look at the king, “Apologies, your Grace. Valeana— She no longer performs with her voice, you see. She has turned to the strings for her music.”

“No?” It was the Queen who spoke, delicate brow furrowing as she looked over at the girl in question, “Why is that, my dear? I remember you had quite a strong voice for a girl so small.” 

Valeana caught the smirk twitching at the end of Aegon’s lip from the word ‘small’, and the two caught each other’s eye. He was lucky he was so far away from her, because she had no qualms making sure he would not be able to sire heirs with a swift kick with the point of her shoe. 

“Womanhood had robbed me of the skill, your Grace,” Valeana replied, then cleared her throat, still feeling it dry. Her voice failed her in talking as well, it seemed. “My voice lowered, and I could no longer hold the same notes as my sisters.”

It was a partial lie; the truth of the matter was that she lost her confidence. After the years she spent isolated, she seldom talked, and singing felt like a language she no longer understood. She only ever hummed and sang lowly and idly by herself in the privacy of her bedchambers, and even then she would cringe at the way her voice would crack when she attempted high notes that she once was able to do. 

“My sisters are still lovely as always, your Grace.”

“Well, I shall like to hear you play the lute on another date then, my dear,” The King smiled kindly. 

“She’s quite good!” Ursula boasted, “I personally love when she plays the lyre – puts me right to sleep!”

“Ahem,” Floris cleared her throat. She's on her feet, Shyla already on her heels, “May we begin?”

“Oh, of course, dear,” Ursula turned around in her seat to watch her daughters. “Please.” 

T H E  G R E E N S 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The dinner with the Celtigars was as painful as Aemond suspected. For once, he allowed his pride to step aside and try to make amends with Valeana, as a favour for his father. He had expected more indifference, or meek politeness. He did not, however, expect confrontation coming from little Valeana. That was a new development. The Valeana he remembered was polite, kind, and while she had a quick tongue to retort, it was usually to be playful or humourous. Before the incident, she often forgave Aemond for his tardiness, or when he ignored her while he was around his brother and nephews. She didn’t even put up a fight when she was the butt-end of Aegon’s jests and pranks. 

“I do not trust you near a flight of stairs, let alone a dragon.”

Aemond wasn’t sure why, but that sentence felt like a gauntlet punch to his gut. Had anyone else said it, he would silently agree to it, because he wanted people to fear him. One could never trust Aemond next to Vhagar – one could not fully trust Vhagar, truly. His promise to Arthor was empty; he had no intention of letting the boy within a tourney’s field distance to the near two century old she-dragon. However, had Valeana agreed, he might have made an exception, because what greater way for him to make amends than to allow her to touch the largest dragon in the world? His dragon. 

He remembered how much she longed to touch one, almost as much as he did, but was denied even to be an audience member to dragon training in the pit.

The rejection was one thing, but if Aemond was honest with himself, it was the realization of the consequences of his crime that bothered him so. As a child, he selfishly justified his actions, in all things, not just with Valeana. He justified him claiming Vhagar, he justified him calling his nephews bastards, and he justified pushing Val away from him that day. It was all self-preservation, and at the time it benefited him. He got Vhagar, he got respect, he got fear, and he got away from the overbearing friendship of Valeana Celtigar. It burdened him, and held him back. When Bartimos left King’s Landing, Aemond’s life had changed for the better. He might’ve lost an eye, and he might’ve lost a friendship, but he gained so much more. 

Except… he lost a friendship. It did not occur to him how important that was until he realized it was truly gone for good. 

Because she could no longer trust him. And the confirmation from her own mouth felt like he was finally facing the corpse of someone he didn’t realize was dead. 

The rest of dinner went on in monotonous torture. Floris, Shyla, and Arthor respectfully tried to carry small talk with him, Helaena and Aegon as if nothing happened. Valeana remained quiet through it all, her eyes moving around him as if he was simply not there. It infuriated him. Aemond found himself staring at the crest of her head or her turned cheek, mentally chanting: look at me, look at me, look at me. 

He was dead to her. A ghost she could no longer feel or see. It was a worse feeling than being disemboweled by her resentful sharp tongue and teeth. And Aemond absolutely hated her for it. 

"Tell me, ladies, do you still sing? This old Keep was desperately missing the beautiful voices of the Celtigar girls,” His father asked, and Aemond and Aegon shared a look that communicated the same thing. 

Seven Hells, no this shit again.

The Sirens of Claw Isle as they were known to be called, became somewhat of an annoyance for the boys growing up. There wasn’t a feast where they weren’t encouraged to sing bard songs until all departed for the night. They had lovely voices, but to Aegon, Aemond, and even Jace and Luke, it was like listening to the excessive chirping of birds at the crack of dawn. Granted, at the time, Aemond only ever soldiered through it just to hear Valeana sing. Her voice had a way of echoing through the tall ceilings and down corridors, holding onto notes longer than her sisters. It was almost haunting.

“...She no longer performs with her voice, you see. She has turned to the strings for her music.”

At this, Aemond tilted his head and examined Valeana as she explained herself. Her neck, cheeks, and tip of her ears got a tinge of pink. She was embarrassed…or ashamed?

Curious…

Perhaps there was a gap in her armour after all.

A part of him was slightly disappointed.

After a rather ear-bleeding rendition of “The Maids that Bloom in Spring”, supper finally ended. When his father stood, so did everyone else. The King bid a good night, not without giving Bartimos a hug, a handshake to the Celtigar sons, and kisses on the cheeks of the girls. His mother did the same, leaving when the King made his exit. Soon Otto, Bartimos, and Ursula followed suit. 

As the group filtered out of the Small Hall, making their way back to the Holdfast, Aemond lingered at the tail. Clement was still conversing with Helaena about Pentos, which reminded him of how his grandsire suggested that the King may match the two. Seeing how the two easily conversed, the possibility seemed far more plausible than her thought. 

Valeana was a step behind them, walking alongside Arthor who examined the statues and tapestries they passed by. Floris had Shyla’s arm clutched in hers, and it was painfully evident that the younger girl was trying to free herself so she may crowd around Aegon.

Aegon, who was also trying to put distance between him and the eager girl, fell into step next to his brother. 

“Well, that went splendidly,” Aegon said once there is enough distance between them and the others ahead. “I half expected her to take out your other eye.”

Aemond sighed heavily through his nose, attention set straight ahead of him, “I am sure she thought of it. She loathes me.” 

“Can you blame her,” Aegon’s attention was on Shyla, who was craning her neck over her shoulder to catch a glimpse at him. Aegon wiggled his fingers at her, granting him a large, gummy grin.

“Father wishes me to reconcile,” Aemond ignores Shyla and instead watches the back of Val’s head. “But he asks for the impossible. She barely looks at me, and when she does…”

“Oh, I am aware, dear brother, it has become the source of my entertainment this evening.” 

“I am glad my misery has been that for you, brother.” 

Aegon turned to him, his eyebrow raised curiously, the corner of his lips upturned, “Does it cause you misery, Aemond? That she despises you?”

Aemond stopped walking to glare at him, his hands like stiff tree trunks at his sides. Aegon slowed to a stop in front of him, tilting his head, waiting for an answer. 

“That farce of a supper was miserable. Why would she cause me any other emotion other than apathy? She is a stranger to me.”

“She was your friend once, if I recall,” Aegon folded his arms over his chest, and relaxed his leg to stand casually. “And your betrothed.”

“It was not a friendship,” Aemond lied through his teeth, “None of us were friends with the sisters. We hated them, do you recall?”

“Oh, I recall Luke, Jace, and I hating them quite a bit. But I also remember you and Val exchanging love notes.”

“They were not–” Aemond stopped himself, moving a hand over his face and sighing through his nose again. “She clung to me like pollen to a bee. It was annoying, it was overbearing, it was too much.” 

Aegon narrowed his eyes at his brother skeptically, but he then quickly shrugged, accepting his words. “Fine, she fancied you a bit too much. Does it bother you that she doesn’t anymore? I bet it bruises your ego… Maybe it’s,” he waved a hand around his eyepatch, “Maybe it’s the eye. You’re half as handsome now–Ouf.”

With a rough slam with his shoulder, Aemond pushed through Aegon with the force of his step. As his back faced his brother, Aegon started to giggle madly behind him. 

Echoes of oinks and kissy noises reverberated in Aemond’s memory. 

“Well, if you feel nothing but apathy towards her, then mayhaps I should try courting her?” Aegon started to stride towards him, keeping up with his pace. “It would make father happy, uniting the Valyrian houses and all that noise.”

“You’re free to try, brother,” Aemond replied, voice clipped and dismissive. Valeana would never consider Aegon. She would never entertain the idea. It was absolutely ludicrous. 

Wasn’t it?

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos

(if you wish to be tagged for updates, please reply and ask!)

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[im-sleepdeprived]

Seasonal • Pt. 5

pairing: peter parker x reader

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

a/n: FINAL PARTTTT !!!!! im so sorry it took so long ive just been getting my ass kicked with life recently and ive been away from my laptop and stable wifi for tooooo long. for anyone who stuck it out till now, i literally can not put into words how much i love you. this series has been so much fun for me, and i put a lot of work and love into it so thank you sooo very much for reading, every last one of you <33333

warnings: cursing, james, peter’s such a cutie here, some chaos, an accident, fire, bodily injuries, mentions of blood, there’s a scene where they’re reading medical charts, I have no idea how accurate it is so let’s not dwell. she’s a long one, so buckle up, grab a snack, and I realllyyyy hope you enjoy <33

masterlist, read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

You’d never asked Peter why he always called you ‘Ace’. The one time you remember asking anything he’d said ‘think it suits you, don’t you?’ And you’d just accepted it. Honestly, you loved it. It was special, it was yours. Something between you and him. Even after the two of you had broken up, he’d still used it, and you were thankful for that because you weren’t sure you could handle that being gone too. He’d never call anyone else by that name and no one else would call you by that except him. It was important to the both of you. 

And apparently, James could see that.

“I just don’t understand why he can’t call you by your fucking name.” He sneered, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. All in all, at the end of the day, it was just a nickname.

“James, I don’t really get what the big deal is here. So we used to be close, and he has a nickname for me, that’s not exactly rare. It’s just a thing people do.”

“Ace,” he said and immediately, you knew it was wrong. No one else was supposed to call you that, no one except Peter. And the way he’d said it ‘Ace’ like he was disgusted, like it was the worst syllable that could leave his mouth. The complete opposite of the way Peter said it. 

When Peter said it, it made you feel special, it made you feel seen in a way no one else had ever made you feel. It was said with care and wit, with charm and love. With love. Always with love. 

“I swear I haven’t heard your name come out his mouth once since we’ve been around him, it’s always ‘Ace, Ace, Ace’” James scoffed and the sound left a foul taste in your mouth. Things had been like this since Peter had transferred. At first, it was just a few questions here and there. But after the photography contest and Peter’s collage of you winning first place and being blasted everywhere, it had definitely gotten more heated.

You hadn’t told him about that morning in the park, as far as James was aware, you hadn’t seen Peter since the party. In truth, you hadn’t seen him since that morning, when he’d said all those things, and used your first name. You weren’t avoiding him, per se, just…trying your best to not be around him. Your article came out in a couple days. All your notes had been taken, and you’d already done your research, so it was easy to work from home so far. That couldn’t last forever.  

You didn’t know what to say to James, so you kept silent in hopes of avoiding angering him even more. You didn’t know what he wanted you to say, offer to ask Peter to cool it with the nickname? Maybe, probably. But you weren’t going to do that. You weren’t even sure Peter could stop, you couldn’t remember the last time he had said your name either (minus that morning in the park, that seemed like a special circumstance after all), but you preferred it that way with him.

Maybe the right thing to do in this situation would be to change this, talk with Peter and ask him politely to stop because it was making your boyfriend uncomfortable, and because you cared about him and how he felt (your boyfriend), you might try to politely arrange this so both parties didn’t hurt anymore. 

But there was another part of you, the dreamer, the hoper, the girl who used to sit on that hill with Peter and gaze at the stars, the girl who spent months sitting by the window with her lamp on, giving the love of her life every benefit of the doubt, every excuse in the book to cope with how he’d handled things. She didn’t want to do the right thing. She thought James was a dumbass who was being way too dramatic. 

God, you’d known Peter basically your whole life. Every childhood memory, you could spot him in the background somewhere. First day of school? You could see him walking through the doors, holding hands with his Aunt May. First field trip? You could spot him on the bus just a few seats ahead of you. High school graduation? Oh, he was definitely there.

And it isn’t like you actively sought him out either, he was just always…there. Since he came back, it was as if every force in the universe was trying to push the two of you together. That girl who sat by the window would’ve taken that as a clear sign, but not you. You just found it annoying.

Or at least…you thought you did.

You’d been a jumble of mixed, confused, and muddled thoughts since that morning in the park. Peter had said everything you’d once craved to hear from him. And yet, there was still so much you two needed to figure out if things were going to be normal between the two of you. What was normal between the two of you? Could you truly be just friends? After he’d told you he thought about you every day and dreamt about you every night? How does one suddenly go about ‘Oh yeah, that’s my ex. No, we never really resolved things and he just randomly popped back into my life after almost two years of not seeing each other, also, he practically admitted the reason he transferred colleges was because of me. It’s chill though.’ and be normal about it?

Since Peter had come back you’d been feeling a lot of guilt when it came to James. It was, after all, a difficult position to be put in. Your girlfriend’s ex randomly popping up out of nowhere and shoving himself into every aspect of her life? You weren’t an idiot, you knew that would be hard on any guy and you were trying to be so understanding, but it felt like he just wasn’t meeting you in the middle with this. And lately, that guilt had been tinged with something akin to irritation.

For instance, you were always trying to make up for everything going on with Peter. Always making sure to schedule some alone time, whether that be walking around campus or going over to each other’s apartments, sending extra sweet texts, and yet he never seemed to appreciate it. Either James ended up ignoring you, standing you up, or being an insecure moron. There was no need to talk about Peter right now when you were supposed to be spending quality time, and yet it was almost like he couldn’t help himself. Honestly, it was starting to piss you off. It seemed like he had no more interest in you and focused all his energy solely on your ex-boyfriend. He never seemed to appreciate anything anymore. It was almost as if he wanted to stay mad.  

You looked at his eyes, that pretty green shade that’d caught your attention when you’d first met him was long gone and replaced by a darker, stormier shade. Now that you thought about it, you couldn’t recall the last time his eyes had looked that pretty.

“James, we’re supposed to be spending time together,” you tried lightly. “We don’t need to talk about him right now”

You watched as he rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath. “What was that?” You asked, irritation dripping in your voice. 

“Nothing,” he said as he shook his head and looked away, only further infuriating you. 

James picked up his phone, scrolling while you stare at him helplessly. “James,” you sigh, “if there’s something bothering you could please let me know instead of—”

His phone dinged. He didn’t even give you a second thought before standing up and pocketing the cellular device. “The boys are chilling at Logan’s, I’m gonna head over there.”

“James.” You called after him as he walked away. “James.” Nothing. A few seconds, then…the slam of the front door. 

You threw your head back on your pillow, letting out an enormous sigh. You didn’t know what to do anymore, you didn’t want to hurt anyone, but it seemed that’s all you were doing. James didn’t even seem to want to put in the effort to make things better, Peter…well you had no clue what was going on with Peter. 

A knock on your open bedroom door caused you to raise your head. Alyssa stood in the doorway holding a carton of ice cream and two spoons. 

“You heard?” You asked. 

She winced, moving across the room to sit beside you on you bed. “Sorry babe, thin walls.”

You hummed, grabbing one of the spoons from her and scooping out a chunk of ice cream into your mouth. “I don’t know what to do!” You mumbled.

She followed suit, “He’s acting like an unreasonable dick, I know.” The both of you nodded. “The only thing I can think of is to give him some time. To settle down, to adjust.”

“I thought that too, but it’s like every time he sees Peter again, all that progress resets! So what’s the answer?”

“Murder Peter?” Lyss suggested, scraping some ice cream onto her spoon. 

You clinked your spoon against hers, “Not funny.”

“You’re right.” She said while laughing, causing you to shove her shoulder lightly. That only made her laugh harder. “I don’t know girl,” she finally spoke once she’d calmed down a bit, “this is kind of a unique situation.”

“Ugh!” You groaned. “Tell me about it.”

“And…I have some news that might not help.”

You paused. “What kind of news?” You asked slowly. 

Alyssa cringed. “I kinda sorta might absolutely need you to come in tomorrow.” 

You gaped at her. She knew you were avoiding Peter. She had just listened to you talk about how terrible it was every time James and Peter were in the same room and now she was trying to get the three of you together?

“I know it’s shitty timing—”

“Shitty timing?!”

She continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “And I wouldn’t do this to you unless I absolutely had to, believe me. But Rajesh, Sabrina, and Cora all called in sick and we still have so much work to do for the next issue so it’s all hands on deck and as your editor I know this is what needs to be done but as your friend…” she pouted at you, “I’m really, really, reallyyyyy sorry sweetie.”

You sighed. There was no choice. “So that’s what this was for?” You asked, motioning your spoon to the tub of ice cream sitting between the two of you. 

“No!” She shook her head in disbelief. “This was because your boyfriend is being stupid, your ex is being weird…and I wanted you to be eating something sweet when I told you about tomorrow.”

The two of you laughed. “Hey,” she said suddenly, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “I still mean what I said, I can fire him.”

“You just said ‘all hands on deck’!”

“Well, after we finish everything that needs to be done.”

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t, bother, he’ll get the hint eventually.”

You didn’t blame Lyss for asking you to come in. At all. 

The news room was a mess. She wasn’t lying when she’d said all hands on deck. In fact, you weren’t sure if all the hands you had would be enough.

“Stephanie, sweetie, that goes over to photography.” You said exasperatedly, trying to keep your composure. This had been the third time you’d directed her. 

“Oh!” she said as if it were the first time. “Got it, sorry Y/N.”

You tried not to roll your eyes, the ruckus of the newsroom and its staff was starting to get to you, but you couldn’t get overwhelmed yet, not with so much still yet to be done. 

Lyss had taken over one half of the room while you took the other. You managed and guided, made some comments here and there, gave tips to some other editors. Your piece was currently undergoing editing by one of them and you had to admit, you were a little anxious. You knew it was good, you had gotten Alyssa to proofread for you, you had also asked James, but he hadn’t gotten a chance. You’d worked your butt off on this piece, but you were afraid after all the…events that had taken place that night, you might have been a little off. 

Speaking of events, you were turning to sneak a look over at Elijah, who was currently working on your article, when you caught a glimpse of extremely familiar brown curls over by the other photographers. All hands on deck, you thought. Ducking your head, you tried to move discreetly to the side when someone stopped you. 

“Y/N! Can we get your opinion on the front page layout?” It was Ryan, one of the photographers. Beside him sat a girl you weren’t quite familiar with, a fresh addition, you supposed. Together, they were working on the layout for the next edition. 

“We weren’t sure whether the headline should go here,” says the girl as she moved a cut-out piece of paper, “or here.”

You froze. There, on the front page, the picture that would be accompanying your article, was you. Or you on that damn collage as Peter held the ribbon with the most forced smile you’d ever seen. Maybe no one else could tell, but you could. You could always tell. Those crinkles by his eyes that you used to love so much weren’t there, a telltale sign. 

Something in your heart broke at that moment, guilt pouring all over you. He had done this amazing thing, made an incredible piece of art, won a really tough competition, and he hadn’t gotten to enjoy it. Because of you. 

“Y/N?” Ryan asked, confused. 

“Sorry.” You snapped out of it. No time for that right now. “Um…” you stared at the layout for a moment before shifting the headline slightly to make it more centered and positioning the photo beneath it. “Does that work? And the article would go here,” you pointed to the bottom of the page where it was empty. 

You watched as Ryan and the girl nodded. “That was my first choice.” Ryan said as he shot the girl a look. You had a feeling they’d been on this for a while. “Oh whatever Ry,” she rolled her eyes, but you could see her fighting back a smile.

“Alright, if you need anything else, just let me know.” You informed them. They agreed, and you moved to make your way around your half of the room again to make sure everything was going as it should be. 

“Y/N!” Lyss came running at you with a panicked look on her face that makes your heart drop. 

“Oh no, what is it?” You asked, already bracing for what might come out of her mouth. 

“I have to go. I just got an email from one of my professors, I have a fucking paper due by tonight and it counts for…well I don’t know, but a good chunk of my final fucking grade.”

Your face fell and you looked at her as if she’d just told you Godzilla was attacking the city. “Lyss, you cannot be serious right now.”

“I know, I know,” Alyssa winced.

“Well, ask for an extension!” You said in disbelief.

“I did! I swear I did, but apparently I’ve already used up all my extensions for that class? I didn’t even know you could do that!”

“Alyssa,” you whined, rubbing at your temple. “What the hell am I supposed to do? I can barely keep up with my half! There’s no way I could handle yours!”

“I’m so sorry, this is totally my fault, I just—” Alyssa was cut off by an all too familiar voice hat made you freeze in your spot. 

“Hey…Listen I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you talking and I thought I could—”

“No,” You turned towards Peter, shaking your head at him. But the same time you said ‘no’, Alyssa perked up beside you, nodding eagerly. “Lyss,” you murmured quietly, turning towards her and widening your eyes in warning.

“Oh Y/N, come on,” she whined. You were hyperaware of Peter watching everything going down between the two of you. “If he can help, let him! Get some use out of him other than his longing stares across the room.” You noticed Peter fighting a blush, and you tried not to react to her words.

“He wouldn’t have to help if somebody remembered she had a paper to do.” You said with a small huff. 

“I know, I know,” she winced again, “and I swear girl, when I walk that stage to get my degree, I’m gonna thank you in my speech.”

“You don’t get a speech.”

“It’s fine, I’ll steal the microphone.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you at her promise. Glancing at Peter, who was still waiting there patiently, you scrunched up your nose at Alyssa, “Does he have to?”

“I’m right here, Ace.” Peter said simply. 

The nickname took you back to your argument with James last night, and you hated it. “That’s kind of the problem, Parker.”

“Hey,” Alyssa spoke up, and she was using her ‘I’m the editor and I decide how things go around here’ voice, making you shut up. “Listen Y/N, I know this is less than ideal, but you wanna be a writer and work in journalism for real? You’re gonna have to learn how to deal with people you don’t exactly get along with. Be professional.”

“And you,” she turned toward Peter, giving him a scathing look. You saw him visibly gulp, which made you feel a little bit better. “As a photographer working at the paper I manage, you’re awesome. But as a person, walking into my best friend’s life and acting the way you do? You piss me off. But…” she held up her hands, “I’ve threatened to fire you and she’s stopped me, so here we are. So, as a member of the paper, and only as a member of this paper, I’m telling you yes, we would appreciate your help while we face this very difficult time with half our team being struck down by The Plague.”

You snorted, “The Plague?”

Alyssa scoffed and looked at you incredulously. “No, seriously! What else do you call three—no, actually, four because Bernice just called me earlier, but what do you call that? They’re all sick!”

“The flu?” Peter tried. 

“You hush,” Alyssa warned him, making you smile. “Now,” she looked between the two of you seriously, “I’m gonna go and try to salvage what I can of my grade, and you two need to play nice and get this issue ready for print and publishing.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said dryly, willing to do it but not willing to do it happily. Peter just nodded quickly, afraid to say anything that might actually get him kicked off the paper for good. 

Alyssa looked between the two of you again before giving you a look, and you knew she was promising to make up for this later at home. You just gave her a smile nod, a promise you’d be alright and she should just go. 

Be professional. You could do that. 

When Alyssa left, Peter turned to you. “Where do you want me Ace?”

“Over there.” You pointed to the half of the room Alyssa had been in charge of. “That was Alyssa’s half, you can take over now. There shouldn’t be much to do, articles are mostly written, things just need proofreading, editing, and we’re still figuring out the layout. If you have any questions, ask me, and if anyone’s being incompetent, they’re not kindergarteners. Don't be afraid to remind them of that.”

“Alright,” he nodded with a serious look on his face and you felt a little better knowing he was willing to be professional too. 

Peter scurried away, leaving you to tend to your half of the room. Your gaze fell to James’ empty desk beside yours. Alyssa had said she’d asked him to come in…was he really that pissed off? You contemplated sending him a text, telling him things were a little hectic and even if he was mad at you, he should still do his part as a member of this team. But that thought was quickly pushed away when Elijah approached you, your laptop in hand. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled at you, handing you your laptop. 

You thanked him softly, looking at him with worried eyes. “So…how was it? I had Lyss proofread it before, but I’m scared she’s just being nice so—”

“No, no…” he shook his head with a small smile. “It was great, honestly. I don’t think you should change a thing, pretty sure you didn’t even make any grammar mistakes. I loved it, you made all the photos sound so beautiful. I think it’s really great, you know? You didn’t just write about the art, you understood it.”

Your heart melted a bit at his words. It was nice hearing that from someone who you didn’t split rent with, even if you did truly trust Alyssa’s judgment. “Thank you, Elijah. That means a lot.”

“Hey, no problem,” he shook his head, smiling at you. “Good luck with all of…” he glanced around the hectic newsroom, “this. And, truly, great paper Y/N.”

You laughed softly, “Thanks for both those things.”

Elijah just nodded before making his way back to his desk. You looked down at your laptop, biting your lip as you looked at the open word document. Your first front page. Looking up, you glanced around the room to see if anyone needed anything then, when you caught Peter’s eye. 

He strode over to you in a few steps, making you raise a brow. “Need something?”

Peter shook his head, looking a little sheepish, “No, um… is—is that the article?” He pointed to the laptop in your heads.

“Yes…” you spoke slowly, still not grasping his point. 

“Can I read it?”

“What? No,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, come on, Ace. Why not? That dude just said it was great! I just wanna see for myself, even though I know it’s amazing. “

You shook your head, looking at him as if he were insane. “No chance, Peter. Now get back to work.”

“Not even a peek?” He gave you those sad puppy dog eyes, the same ones he used to give you those nights you’d kick him off of your fire escape he was begging for just ‘five more minutes’.

You almost wanted to give in, once upon a time you would have, but not now. You wouldn’t. “Not even a peek. You can read it when it’s published, now shoo.”

He sighed dramatically, making you bite back a smile. “You’re so cruel sometimes, Ace.”

You laughed. “Well, suck it up. How’re things going on your side?” Civilized. Professional. It was what you were trying to be despite the underlying tension between you two caused by almost two years of no contact, his sudden arrival, and everything that had happened between the two of you. Most recent being that talk in the park. 

“Oh, it’s good, I think.” He shrugged casually, looking back at his half of the room. “They seem to have a hang on things.”

You held back a laugh, staring at him with a raised brow, “Are you even doing anything or just walking around?”

Peter laughed softly. He was glad he was getting to talk to you like this after everything that had happened. He’d gotten the sense you were avoiding him after that morning in the park. You hadn’t been in the newsroom and he hadn’t seen you walking your usual routes around campus. He knew things weren’t okay, not by a long shot, but this was still a welcome reprieve. 

“Walking around is doing something. If anyone needs help, they can just…holler?”

You do laugh this time. “Holler? Seriously, Peter?”

“Well, I don’t know,” he grinned at you, your laugh making his heart skip a beat. “No one’s asked for help yet, but I’m making myself available to them. That’s what I meant to say.” 

“Alright,” you nodded, still smiling. It still shocked you how the two of you could compartmentalize and work together so well when things were so weird between you. “Well, I should…”

“Actually, I did need your help picking out some photos,” he blurted. He’d felt the conversation coming to a lull, and he didn’t want to stop talking to you just yet. “Just…just wait here.”

Peter held up a finger to you before making his way across the room, grabbing his laptop, and coming back. He pressed a few buttons before holding it out to face you. “I have some photos I need you to choose from. Some from the competition, others just fillers for the other articles and pages.”

“Okay,” you looked at the laptop in his hands before laughing in disbelief. “Oh my god, Peter! You still have this thing? How is it still alive?”

Peter laughed as well. It was true, he’d had that laptop since high school, and it was old back then. The two of you used to watch videos for school together on it and you’d joke that it was on its last breath. He was glad you remembered that. “Hey, no hating on Rusty. He does his job, and he does it well.”

A voice sounded from Peter’s side of the room. “Peter!”

You snorted and rolled your eyes, “Still using that dumb name.”

“It is not dumb.”

“It sounds like something you’d name a dog.”

“If I had a dog, I’d name it something way cooler.”

“Peter!!”

You turned to see who it was, and you saw Ryan waving at the two of you. Your eyes drifted back to Peter. “Um, I think you’re needed.”

“Forget him,” Peter shakes his head, his eyes never leaving yours. He didn’t want to end his short time with you. “He’s annoying, that’s just his thing.”

“Penis Parker!! Yoohoo!”

You laughed in surprise, having not heard that nickname since high school. “You told him about that?” 

Peter held back a groan. “Shit, I’m sorry Ace. Here,” he handed you his laptop, “I already have it pulled up, you just need to pick out what you think works and I’ll deal with the rest. I’ll be right back.” Holding up a finger, he walked away, leaving you with his computer. A second later, you heard his voice a couple feet away, “What the hell was that man?”

You smiled to yourself and took his laptop to your desk, starting to scroll through the photos. You hadn’t seen Peter’s photography in a long time (the competition did not count) and it felt oddly intimate going through his USB drive.

You’d always been a fan of Peter’s photography, not just because you were together, but because it’d always felt like getting a chance of getting to see the world through his eyes. And what an interesting way to see things. Who wouldn’t want to see the world through the eyes of the love of their life—Previous love of their life? 

This was no different, Peter had an accumulation of photos to choose from, both from the competition and not. It seemed he hadn’t just been competing that day. 

Just as you were selecting a few that you’d liked most, his computer crashed out of the file you were in, sending you back to the homepage with a little ‘error:’ notification. 

“Stupid computer,” you mutter, trying to open it back up to no avail. This thing was a piece of junk, you had no idea how he still got any work done on it. 

But just when you were about to call Peter over to reprimand him about his worthless piece of metal he called a computer, your eyes caught sight of file sitting leisurely on his homepage. 

“Ace♠️”

What? You thought Peter only used that nickname for you…if he called other people that, other girls, you were going to be sick. 

Before you could stop yourself, you were clicking on it. 

What you definitely weren’t expecting to see was every article you’d ever written for The Spectator saved. From your first shitty Kent Hall bathroom opening, to your latest one.

Your heart stuttered and your breathing hitched. He didn’t…did he? You clicked on the files, desperate to see when these had all been saved. But they all had different dates. They were either saved close to or the exact date these pieces had been published. Peter had been reading your writing while he was away. 

Your mind briefly wandered to that time you’d run into him outside the photography building, right after he’d gotten back. You’d told him about you getting the front page for the article on the photography competition and he told you he thought all your writing belonged on the front page. When you’d said he hadn’t read any of it, he’d just shook his head and said that wasn’t true. 

You’d just brushed it off and assumed he’d meant when he used to read your essays and projects in high school, but now….

What the fuck did this mean?

“Hey Ace, I’ll be right there!” Peter’s voice snapped you out of your inner turmoil. You clicked out of the file, quickly pulling the photos back up as Peter walked back up to you, standing before your desk ask grinning large. 

“So?” He asked, looking down at you expectantly.

Gaping, you floundered for words. “Uhh…yeah, yeah, mhmm…” you handed him the laptop again, pointing the ones you liked. “I think those—those ones—they should be good.”

“Alright,” he nodded, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Cool, thanks Ace. I’ll start working on those.”

“Mhmm, sure,” you said simply, hoping he’d just go. 

Peter’s eyes flicker up to you, a question in his eyes. “You good, ace?”

Fuck. “Yeah. Are you good, Parker?”

He faltered and made a face as if he were seriously thinking about your question, and it almost made you laugh. “Um…yeah, I think so.”

“Okay, great. Well, now that we’ve got that covered, you wanna go get those photos ready for publishing?”

“Sure, yeah. ‘Course,” he muttered, grabbing his laptop and turning away before he turned back to you again. “One last question, Ace.”

“Hmm?”

“When…when the paper comes out, where can I get a copy?”

“Umm…just about anywhere, really. Any of the libraries, the campus center, residence halls, they’re all over the place. And the digital version, of course…” He obviously knew about that one. 

“Right…okay, thanks.” He shot you an easy smile before walking back to the other side of the room. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to regain your composure. You’d been doing fine, you were focused on getting everything on track, fulfilling the job Alyssa had trusted you with, being professional. But of course, Peter Parker had to ruin that. 

Your eyes flickered back to James’ desk, and you felt a strange twinge in your heart. You had to check up on him, even if the two do you were in an argument. 

Pulling out your phone, you quickly pull up your text thread with him and sent a quick message asking how he was. It wasn’t really early in the day, so when you didn’t get a reply, well, you weren’t exactly worried, he was probably still upset with you and James was known to be petty, but you weren’t brushing it off either. 

So, you opened Instagram. Heading over to James’ profile specifically, you noticed he had something posted on his story. You clicked it and were shown a video of James in a crowded room lit up by strobe lights, chugging two beers at once. 

Of course. Here you were feeling guilty that he was so upset with you and what had happened between you two that he couldn’t bring himself to come in today. But no, in true James fashion, he’d just gotten wasted and was probably passed out in his apartment right now. While you were depending on him, while Alyssa was depending on him. 

You quickly shut off your phone and shoved in back in your bag. As soon as you were finished with your work here, you knew exactly where you were headed next.

You knocked strongly on the door, shifting on your feet as you waited for an answer. After a few moments, a disheveled looking James opened the door. He wasn’t wearing a shirt—just a pair of pajama shorts hung on his hips—and from the way he was rubbing his eyes, you were sure you’d just woken him up. 

“Hey babe,” he murmured, his voice low and raspy in a way that used to bring a smile to your face, but now it only served to irritate you. “What’s up?”

“Have you been asleep till now?” You asked. You tried to keep the irritation out of your voice, but it was hard. 

James only hummed in response, stretching out on his toes, lifting his arms above his head and letting out a soft groan. “Mmm…yeah, I went out with the boys last night. We got wrecked.”

The grin on his face made you scoff. Pushing past him, you stepped into his apartment. You peered through the doorway that led to the living room and saw a friend of his crashed on the couch, one whose name you couldn’t remember. You turned back towards James, who had shut the door and was standing there, as if waiting for you to finish whatever it was that brought you here so he could go back to sleep. 

“You have classes today, don’t you?”

“Eh, it’s fine. I’ll grab the notes from someone else or something.” He brushed you off with a wave of his hand. “Is that why you’re here? To make sure I get to class?”

You might’ve laughed if he hadn’t looked so annoyed. “No, I came over to see why you didn’t come into the paper today.”

James made a face as if that were the most ridiculous thing you could’ve said. “The paper? Seriously, babe?”

“Yes, seriously James. The place was a mess today, we were down like five members and we could’ve really used your help! Alyssa said she asked you to come in.”

“I haven’t checked my phone,” he rolled his eyes, “and besides, I’m sure Lyss will understand—”

“It’s not about Lyss understanding, James. It’s about you being fucking responsible enough to be trusted to do your job. In a position you signed up for, no less.”

“The fuck is your problem Y/N,” he sneered in a way that made you see red. “So I didn’t come in today, whatever.”

“No, it’s not ‘whatever’, James. God…” you ran a hand through your hair and exhaled exasperatedly. Was this really something that warranted an argument? No, not to you. Because James should know his responsibilities, you shouldn’t have to remind him.

“You have responsibilities, James.” You said slowly. The last thing you needed was another argument. 

All you got from that were narrowed eyes in your direction. “Like I need my girlfriend reminding me what the fuck my responsibilities are.”

You didn’t know the word “girlfriend” could be made to sound so close to a slur. “Look James, I’m not trying to be controlling, or annoying—”

“Really?” He rolled his eyes, “well you’re sure succeeding.”

You bit your tongue. Raising your voice right now and arguing wouldn’t do either of you any good, and you wouldn’t be able to get your point across. But hell…you’d be lying if you said you weren’t even a little angry. Normally, you brushed off James’ partying and drinking, he was a college student after all, and just because you weren’t really into that didn’t mean you expected him to be the same. But when it affected his school work, his work on the paper, his relationship with you, and he was being this resilient to change, not even giving you a chance to speak. Yeah, now you had a right to be upset. 

“James, you know I never really care that you want to go party, more power to you. But it isn’t right when you let down the people who were counting on you, when you hurt others and yourself, too. How many times can you miss class before it starts to affect your grade? You just—”

“Oh my fucking god,” he grumbled under his breath, sighing deeply and running a hand through. “You fucking woke me up for this shit? To talk about my ‘grades’ and the fucking paper?”

“Why is it so bad that I wanted your help with something you signed up for?!” you asked in disbelief. 

James shook his head, his gaze fixed on the wall, refusing to meet your eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, wanting to argue, wanting to push back, when you realize…you don’t have to. You didn’t have to constantly go through this with him, over and over, ending one argument just to start another. You didn’t have to roll over and accept the way he was speaking to you. 

A relationship should be a bonus—something that lifts you up, not weighs you down. A person who understood you, respected you, and leveled with you. 

Not… whatever this was. 

You’d been scared to admit it to yourself since Peter came into the picture, you worried how it might look if you chose to end things with James after your ex came back into town.

But the truth was even before Peter came back, there’d been things about James that hadn’t sat right with you. The way he blew off your plans so easily to go hang out with his friends, the way he seemed to want to be upset with you sometimes. It never really felt right, that time during winter break you’d specifically declined meeting his parents and him meeting yours, and he’d showed up at your house anyway, giving you no choice. Sometimes, he just brushed off your opinions or concerns as if your thoughts meant nothing to him. As if you meant nothing. 

Yeah, he’d been charming at first. Complimented your writing. Your looks. Said all the right things. But looking back, that was just it: he’d talked. And once he had you, the effort stopped.

He’d enjoyed the chase, you realized. You’d come to college not expecting, or even wanting, to date anyone after everything that had happened with Peter. And James loved a challenge. 

Well, you weren’t just someone to be caught and forgotten. 

“We’re done.” Not a waver or quiver in your voice.

He blinked. A flicker of confusion cracked his indifference.

“What’d you just say?”

Oh. You realized that he really hadn’t expected you to go there. 

“You heard me,” you said simply, shrugging your shoulder. “If you have anything at my place, I’ll bring it over or have Alyssa do it.” 

You had never really stayed over at his apartment. Strangers always crashing, red flags all over, it made you uncomfortable. You’d told him as much the one and only time he’d ask why you didn’t sleep over, and he’d done nothing to change it. With a small flicker of embarrassment for yourself, you realized you’d never expected him to. In all honesty, you’d never expected much from James at all. Which made the small moments you had, and he’d still managed to let you down all the more recognizable.

James shook his head, a puzzled expression on his face. It almost made you laugh how confused he was. It really wasn’t that unbelievable. “You can’t just do that. You can’t just break up with me.”

“Um…yes I can.” You said simply, stepping back towards the door, your hand falling on the knob.

“Is this about that fucking Parker guy?” He asked, his eyes darkening. Gone was the shock.

But you just rolled your eyes. “No, James, believe it or not, I’m not breaking up with you to get back with Peter. I’m doing it because you’re kind of a piece of shit.” You opened the door. “So rest assured—there’s no ulterior motive. This one’s all on you.”

And with that, you left.

The shopping ban you and your father had bestowed upon your mom didn’t last very long, so it didn’t surprise you when you’d gotten a call from her on Friday telling you’d she’d gotten ‘a cute little bookshelf that would look perfect in your apartment’ and that you should come over to pick it up, and since you’d already be there, you may as well spend the weekend. 

Part of you wondered whether this was just a little scheme she’d conjured up to get you to spend more time at home, but you didn’t really mind. You wanted to get away for a bit.

You hadn’t told anyone about your breakup with James, not yet at least. The only person who knew about it so far was Alyssa. She’d told you that, while she’d absolutely been cheering for you two in the beginning, this was a decision she completely supported and understood.

“He’s been acting like a fucking idiot lately. Honestly, I think you held out too long, Y/N.”

“You’re still his friend too, Lyss.”

“Yeah right, the little fucker was only using me last year to get to you. But at least we got something useful out of him when he helped us move in. From now on, I’m just his editor. Unless…I can always fire him if you want.”

“Alyssa.”

You weren’t sure why exactly you brought it up to anyone. You just didn’t want it to be a big deal where people tiptoed around you and tried to get you to be sad. Because honestly…you weren’t upset, not at all. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, like you’d been blindfolded and put in a strange room, only for the blindfold to fall off and for you to realize you were just outside, walking in a clear, green, flower-filled park. 

Part of you felt bad for feeling so relieved. A bigger part of you couldn’t care less. 

You’d cared for James for a brief moment. There was a small window where he actually felt kind of like a boyfriend. But that didn’t last long, and it didn’t hit you how incompatible you were until you’d left his apartment the other day. James was never the kind of guy you saw yourself with in the long-run, and he wasn’t even that great of a short-run if you were being honest with yourself. 

It was alright the first time he’d come over to your place after a long night of getting wasted with his friends, but after that, it had just started to feel like a chore. You’d help him, but only because you felt obligated to. You were his girlfriend, after all. 

And while you didn’t have much experience in that department, you’d still felt it was kind of your responsibility. You’d helped Peter with plenty of things when the two of you were together. 

But it was different with him, you’d never felt like it was a job you had to fulfill when he’d come home after a particularly bad night, bruised and cut up and you’d bandage him. It didn’t annoy you when the two of you had gone to one of Flash’s house parties and Peter had gotten drunk for the very first time. 

It wasn’t an obligation to help him, to care for him, to love him. You just did. And you hadn’t really realized that not every relationship would be like that until you were with James. Even then, you hadn’t let yourself think that way or compare the two, but now you didn’t care.

You never loved James, not really. Not the way that you had loved Peter. And you knew James had never loved you, not the way Peter had loved you. 

Had.

The thought sent a pang of hurt through your chest.

And then there was the Peter Parker of it all…

You couldn’t deny the fact that part of why you were so reluctant to share the news of yours and James’ separation was because of him. You weren’t sure how he’d react. Or even worse, you had an inkling, and you couldn’t let that happen. 

That morning in the park Peter had more or less admitted that the reason for his transfer was you, and while once upon a time that would’ve thrown you over the moon, not anymore. You couldn’t deny the facts. 

He had left. He had made promises, and he had broken them. 

Him thinking that your breakup with James was the green light he’d been waiting for since he’d gotten there, and just forgetting all the pain and heartbreak he’d caused was something you didn’t want. Not yet, at least. He’d find out soon enough, but you’d cross that bridge when you got to it. 

So now you were back home, watching TV alone, when then was a knock at the door. Standing, you made your way over and opened it without checking the peephole, automatically thinking it was just your parents.

Wrong.

“Hey Ace, how’s it going?” Peter asked with a small smile. The door behind him, the one to his and May’s apartment, was pushed open and the scene, him standing here before you, calling you by that name, in this building where you two had connected, had loved, was so familiar it made everything down to your blood cells stutter in your body. 

How many times had you crossed over this small hallway and into that apartment, how many times had you opened the door to a greeting just like that one? Too many to count, before it had all abruptly come to a stop. 

“It’s going fine. What’s up with you, Parker? You need something?” Your tone is cool, collected, not letting on how hard the nostalgia had just hit you.

“No…no, I’m good, I think. May did ask me to tell you something, though.” Peter shifted on his feet. He was tempted to stick a foot in the doorway just to make sure you wouldn’t slam it in his face.

“Oh? And what's that?” You raised an inquisitive brow at him and watched him stutter. 

“W-well she just—you remember when I said she would love to have you over for dinner? She heard your parents were out and wanted me to ask if you wanted to come over.”

“Really? She wanted you to ask?”

“No…I mean yes! Yes,” he scrunched his eyes shut, shaking his head and looking down, “I don’t know why I said that.”

You glanced down at the watch on your wrist. It was getting late and your parents weren’t back yet, you were sure they’d stop at some restaurant to grab their dinner. And you did miss May…

“I could just order takeout,” you said with a small shrug. “I don’t wanna bother you two or anything.”

Peter’s face fell. “No! No, please. We—I mean, May would really love to have you over. Please?” He added, a little quieter this time.

You shifted on your feet, your hand gripping the door a little tighter. Was this really a good idea?

“I’d have to change out of my pajamas,” you said quietly, gesturing down to yourself, clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He grinned at you as if that was exactly what he had been hoping you’d say. 

Fighting off a smile, you shut the door and made your way to your bedroom. A simple sweater and jeans would suffice, but you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Dinner with Peter and May. That was something you hadn’t had in years. You’d almost forgotten what it entailed. 

When you made your way across the hall, the door was already open a crack. You knocked anyway and heard the unmistakable sound of May Parker. “Come on in, sweetheart! Peter, I told you to leave it open, did you leave it—”

“I swear I left it open, May!”

“Are you sure?”

“He did,” you said softly, padding into their apartment. “I just…thought I’d knock anyway.”

May grinned at the sound of your voice, dropping the small pan in her hand onto the counter before bounding over to you and wrapping her arms around you tight. “Oh, honey, I’ve missed you.”

You grinned, holding her back just as tight, “I’ve missed you too.”

She pulled away, smiling happily, before she turned back toward Peter, who stood to the side, leaning against the counter. “Peter, honey, fridge. Now.”

Your eyes narrowed in confusion and you watched as Peter quickly grabbed a white square shaped box, and carried it to the fridge to store inside.

“Is that…dinner?” You asked, glancing up at May.

“Oh no, honey,” May laughed and placed a hand on your shoulder, leading you to the small table in the corner, one you ate at multiple times. But not for a while now. 

“Come on, take a seat. Peter and I will start bringing things over.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t let her cook!” Peter called from the other side of the kitchen. 

You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle your laugh, not wanting to hurt May’s feelings, though it was all in good fun and she knew it. 

May walked back into the kitchen, grabbed a towel off the counter and lightly flick it at Peter’s back. He let out an exaggerated yelp, squeezing his eyes shut and bringing his hands up to cover his head. “Mercy! Mercy!”

May rolled her eyes and you let out a soft laugh. You watched them as they worked together, placing the takeout food on plates and bowls before placing them on the table before you. The familiarity was so intense, a longing fulfilled after so much time, it was almost unsettling.

It felt something like a dream when they both sat down at the table. Like a weird sense of déjà vu. But things were different now, Peter had spent two years away, you’d gone to Columbia, and you had a new boyfriend—

No, you didn’t. 

And they didn’t know that. 

You looked down at your plate, reaching for the cup of water they’d placed before you and taking a sip just to have something to do.

“Here honey,” May murmurs, scooping some food onto your plate, “we ordered from that Thai place you love.”

Your heart warmed at her words. “The one with the rice rolls?”

“And the green curry,” Peter finished with a nod. That had always been your order every time you two ate together. 

His eyes were on you, it seemed they had been since you’d set foot in their apartment. But for you, you couldn’t maintain eye contact with him for more than a few seconds before finding something else to look at. It was a little more difficult now that you and James had broken up. Even if Peter didn’t know. 

You had tried to tell yourself it meant nothing, that your breakup with James would’ve happened whether Peter was back or not…and maybe that was a true. It was probably true. But it didn’t change the fact that Peter had almost definitely sped up that process. 

“That’s…that’s, amazing you guys, thank you.” And although your words were intended for a group, your eyes and your smile were for May. 

‘Anytime, sweetheart,” she said with her own smile. “You’re welcome here anytime, you know that. Honestly, you should start coming over more, Peter here has been hounding me day and night to ask you to come ov—”

A loud, forced cough cut through the air and both you and May’s eyes fell on Peter, whose cheeks were turning a pretty shade of pink. 

You eyed him for a moment, watched as he gave May an exasperated look and a shake of his head. You wondered if he thought you wouldn’t notice. 

“Well…” you said softly, turning back to May, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“Oh, anytime honey.” She said with a wide grin. Something told you she had no problem exposing Peter like she had. 

And so the dinner went on, Peter eventually reeling from his earlier embarrassment and joining in on the conversation. It was fun, not that you hadn’t thought it would be, but you hadn’t expected how easy it would be to fall back into old roles, old memories. 

Peter and May made you laugh, you made them laugh. Stories spilled, jokes were made, and you even found yourself joking around with Peter alone. 

It was natural. Too natural, maybe.

At one point, he bumped your foot under the table, and when you looked up, he gave you that crooked grin you hadn’t realized you remembered so well. It did something strange to your chest. Not painful exactly—just... familiar.

May excused herself to get dessert, and for a brief moment, it was just the two of you again.

“You still eat like a kid,” you said, sipping your drink with a smirk.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Do I?”

“You do. Your side of the table is a mess, and don’t think I didn’t notice you picking out all the carrots on your plate.”

His face went red again. “Okay…I don’t like carrots. But you knew that already.”

It was true, you did know that. In fact, he’d used to pick them out onto your plate because you enjoyed them and you always got on him about being wasteful. 

He smiled, but the moment lingered longer than it should’ve, like they were both waiting for the next unspoken thing. Like they were still suspended in that strange space between what they’d had and whatever this was now.

And it scared you a little, how easy it would be to fall right back in.

“Okay! Peter, will you bring her to the living room?” May’s voice rang out through the apartment. 

“Come on,” Peter stood and held a hand out to you. To both your surprises, you took it. 

He led you to the living room where May stood beside the coffee table, hands clasped together as she grinned at you wide. She made a flourishing gesture with her hands and that was when your eyes fell to the table beside her. 

That white square shaped box you’d seen Peter carrying when you’d first arrived was sitting there, lid open. A cake that read “Congrats on the front page!” lay inside. 

Peter nudged your side. “Congrats, Ace.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes before looking over at May again. “Petey mentioned that your article on the photography competition was on the front page! And your first one ever! Of course, we had to celebrate our girl!”

You smiled at her, your heart absolutely melting at the sweetness of their actions, especially the term ‘our girl.’ You rushed over, pulling her into a hug, which she happily reciprocates. “Thank you,” you murmured softly, “this is so…so sweet. Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me, it was—” she cuts herself off and you pull away just in time to see her eyes fixed over your shoulder before settling on you. “It was no problem, we’re—I’m so proud of you.”

“Where’s Peter’s cake?” You asked, turning back to look at Peter, who still stood where you’d left him, his hand that’d been holding yours briefly was now shoved in his pocket.

“What do you mean, Ace?”

“I mean, you’re the one who won the whole competition, that a pretty big deal. We should celebrate that too.”

You watched his expression soften before he shook his head, walking closer to you with that cocky grin on his face. “Maybe, but your article really brought my piece to life. Maybe you can do a live reading for us—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head quickly. 

“No? Well, that’s okay, I’m sure I can find the link for it online…” he trails off, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Oh. Well, he certainly has a knack for reading my articles online, you thought. 

“Nope,” you said simply, swiping his phone out of his hand before he could protest. 

“Oh, come on,” he said with an enormous grin. “May has been dying to read it, she was really hoping you’d read it aloud for us.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, you can just lend her one of many copies I’m sure you have in your room.” Or share the link he almost definitely had saved in that old rust bucket he still called a computer. 

Peter’s eyes widened just a fraction before they narrowed at you, and there was no mistaking the flush blooming on his cheeks. “You…I—I don’t have any.”

You look at him with an amused expression. “Peter,” you said slowly, “it was a joke.”

He seemed to let out a breath of relief, and a smile bloomed on his face. “Ha-ha, very funny, Ace.”

May, who’d been watching you both with a smile, thought it might be best if she excused herself for a bit. Just a little while. “Peter,” she gestured to the dessert, “be a dear and cut the girl some cake.”

Peter nodded, quickly moving to grab a plate from the ones she’d set out, and a cake knife. May turned to you with an apologetic smile, “I’m just gonna be one second, dear. I have to make a quick phone call for something to do with the community center, It’s kind of important. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile, “go ahead. We’ll get your plate ready.”

She gave your cheek a quick peck, pulling away with a smile before heading into her bedroom. You sat back on the couch just as Peter approached with two plates of cake. 

“For the lady,” he murmured as he handed you your plate, falling deep into a bow before falling down beside you as you laughed.

As much as he had hurt you and as easy as it was for him to piss you off, it was becoming clearer and clearer to you since he’d returned; you could never truly hate Peter Parker. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking a bite of cake. Your favorite flavor. Of course it was.

“‘Course,” he said simply, shoveling a large forkful of his own piece into his mouth. “You are an award-winning journalist, after all.”

“‘Award-winning?’” You asked with a laugh. “Since when? Do you know something I don’t, Parker?”

He looked at you seriously. “You mean, other than the fact that there is definitely a Pulitzer Prize in your future? No, no, I don’t think I do.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. Even now, he still had all this faith in you. “So I take it you liked the article?”

“Liked it? Ace, I loved it.”

The complete and utter sincerity was almost enough to bring you to tears, and you had to take another bite of cake to make sure that didn’t happen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His tone never wavered, and his eyes never left your face. “and I don’t just mean the part where you’re talking about me or my piece, I mean all of it. The way you described the photos, the art, the visions and messages all those people were trying to share…it was beautiful. I’ve never read anything like it and I think it’s so awesome that this is just the start of what’s going to be a very successful career.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, averting your gaze from his. It was just too intense, his words, the eye contact… 

“But, of course, my favorite part was where you spoke about my piece.” He said easily, eat another bite of cake. 

You couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped you. He always had a knack for comforting you whenever things felt like too much, whether directly or not. “I’m sure it was.”

The two of you fell into comfortable silence and you couldn’t help the small nagging voice in your head. Maybe you shouldn’t say anything…but you really wanted to know…

“Hey,” you said suddenly, bringing your feet up onto the couch and folding them under you as you adjusted your body to face him more, “you remember the other day when we were working on the paper, and you gave me your computer to pick some photos?”

“Mhm,” Peter hummed, looking up at you as he shoved another forkful of cake into his mouth. Frosting coated his lips and the surrounding areas and it was surprisingly hard not to just lean in and kiss it clean. He was adorable. 

You swallowed and looked away, ridding the thought from your head. “Well, your ratchet, dusty old computer—”

“No hating on rusty.”

“—it crashed, and I…I found a file.”

Peter paused. Slowly, he lowered the plate to his lap, leaning over to grab a napkin from the table, wiping his face, before facing you again. “Oh? What kind of file?”

“Porn.” 

You shook your head as soon as the word left your mouth, you and Peter both falling into giggles. “I’m sorry, I'm sorry, that was so lame, but it was right there.”

Peter shook his head, a large grin on his face. “No, totally fair. But I do think that if it were porn, you wouldn’t be bringing this up right now, hm?”

“No, I wouldn’t be,” you said softly, shaking your head.

“So…?”

“Well…the only reason I even clicked it was cause it had my name on it, literally, not some metaphorical bullshit, I just want you to know that.”

He knew, of course. “And?” He asked, still looking at you.

You paused for a moment, letting your eyes trace over his expression. He didn’t seem offended you’d been (not really, but really) snooping, he didn’t seem embarrassed to have been caught. He just looked…normal, as if to say, “what else did you expect?”

“And…you were keeping up with my writing? While you were away?”

“Is that a question, Ace? I thought you saw the file?”

“No…no, I saw. And I always saw that they were each downloaded pretty close to the day they were released.”

“Well, forgive me for keeping up with my favorite writer,” he teased, but his voice was soft. Sincere. 

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond to that. So you inhaled through your nose and sat back against the couch, facing the TV. You could feel Peter beside you doing the same.

“It wasn’t that difficult finding them, you know. They’re one of the top searches when someone searches your name.”

“Oh…I didn’t know that.” You mused quietly. So he’d googled you.

“Did you ever…I don’t know, look me up?”

Easy answer. 

“No.” You said bluntly

The two of you turned at the same time, meeting each other’s eyes before bursting into laughs. 

When you’d calmed down a bit, you looked back over at him. “Why? What would I have found?”

“Oh, nothing worthwhile.” He’d answered too easily. And you knew that wasn’t true. It seemed you had plans for tonight. 

“Oh, I’m sure.” You said with a small eye roll, taking another bite of cake. 

“I meant it, you know,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving your face. “You are my favorite writer.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I’m not sure you read enough for that claim to have any weight behind it.”

Peter just grinned, “Oh, but I mean it, Ace.”

Of course he did. 

“Thank you,” you murmured quietly. 

“You don’t need to thank me, I’ve always thought your writing was—”

“That’s not what I meant. I was talking about this,” you gestured to the cake, the frosting message that’d been written on it cut off due to the missing slices. “It was…really sweet of you, thank you.”

Peter was quiet for once, taking a moment before he spoke up again. “You…you already thanked May.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “but I didn’t thank you. And I know it was your idea.”

He paused, his eyes fixed on his lap, and this time, you were the one who kept your eyes on him. After a few moments, he looked up. “That obvious?”

You scrunched up your nose and nodded. “Little bit, yeah.”

He laughed softly. “Well, you can’t blame me. It absolutely is worth celebrating. And you never mentioned having plans or something with James or Lyss, or anyone else, so I…”

You swallowed hard at the mention of James, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at his words. If anyone knew how much this meant to you, it was Peter. “Well, it means a lot, really.”

“You know, despite the fact that we aren’t…you know,” he swallowed hard, as if it physically hurt him to say that, “but we were friends first, and I remember. I know how hard you’ve worked for this, how much you’ve wanted it. And I’m glad to be here for it.”

“I’m…I’m glad you’re here too.” Barely a whisper, but so much more. The kindest words you’d given him since he’d return. Not forgiveness, no, it’d take a lot more to get there, but an acknowledgement. An appreciation of your friendship before everything, the connection you two shared, one you’d probably never find with anyone else. 

His gaze never faltered from yours and you could tell by the look on his face how much your words had effected him. His eyes were like two windows into that mind you used to know like the back of your hand. And, sometimes, you thought you still could. 

Which was why you leaned away and cleared your throat. Your eyes fell to the empty plate in his hands. “Um…do you want me to get you another slice?”

He looked down at the plate in his hands as if just realizing it was there. Shaking his head, he reached for your plate as well, “Don’t worry about it, you’re the guest of honor. I can get it.” 

As he leaned over to reach the cake, he caught sight of the untouched plate he’d gotten ready for his aunt. With furrowed brows, he looked back at you over his shoulder. “Hey, where’d May run off to?”

“Oh,” you waved a hand, “said she had to call someone or something for the community center. She went into her room.”

Peter gave you a quizzical look, making you raise a brow at him. “What?” You asked.

“Her phone’s right there, Ace.” He pointed to the edge of the coffee table where, sure enough, May’s phone sat tauntingly.

Your mouth fell open in disbelief and your eyes flicked to her closed bedroom door. That little…

“Liar,” you hissed, making Peter laugh. “She said it was important!”

“I’m sure she thinks whatever’s going on out here is more important.” He snickered. 

“Not funny, Peter!”

“You know,” he mused thoughtfully, “this might be the only time she’s ever happily left us alone.”

You flushed at the thought. It was true, when the two of you had been together, both your parents and May had made the rules about hanging out way stricter, and they’d always been lurking around, never leaving the two of you alone and out of sight for long.

“I wonder if she—”

The sound of a door opening cut Peter off, making both your heads turn. May stood there grinning widely. 

“Hey! Sorry, these people are so incompetent. I mean, how hard is it to understand where to leave an order, am I right? Did you save me some cake?”

You and Peter exchanged a glance before erupting into laughter. 

Contrary to popular belief, being Spider-Man was a stress reliever for Peter. Of course, it had its more than stressful moments. But often times when things were getting rough in his personal life he held onto the fact that he got to swing around the city (North Carolina was fine, but it was nothing compared to New York) and help the people who needed him. It felt good to be needed. 

Nothing quite beat the feeling he got when he returned a lost child to his terribly worried parents, or when he helped rescue a girl who was stuck in burning building, her father waiting for her eagerly down on the street. It often times made him wonder how he would feel if it were his loved ones in peril. If it were Ned, or MJ, or May. Or you. 

He never thought he’d have to find out. 

Until today. 

It was like any other day, and when he thought about that later it would make him sick to his stomach how something so terrible could happen and the world would go on. How there would be no signs. 

He had been swinging around downtown Manhattan. It was a peaceful afternoon in New York, full of people just bustling around as they enjoyed the nice weather, and Peter was still riding the high of dinner with you last night. How it’d felt like the two of you had really connected, like he might just have a shot at earning your forgiveness. He kept thinking about how good it felt to have you back at his place with him and May, how natural it was. 

Maybe he was too stuck in his head, daydreaming and reminiscing, and that was the problem.

Early evening traffic was just beginning, the roads and crosswalks full of people trying to get back to their homes. 

He should’ve been faster.

He should’ve noticed it sooner. Something. Anything.  

Shooting a web toward the nearest lamppost, Peter hauled himself onto a low, nearby roof and crouched on the edge. “So Karen, what’ve we got today?”

“There seems to be some commotion on the Brooklyn Bridge, cars are piling up. Cause of commotion is unknown.”

Peter’s brows furrowed and he was immediately springing into action. Bridges were a terrible place for accidents to take place, they were crowded, and far too many times he’d saved someone from sliding past the broken railings and into the waters. 

Sure enough, when he got there Peter could see that this was no exception. The bridge was packed, overflowing with vehicles and people rushing out of their cars. It was worse than the usually New York traffic. He swung down quickly, planting himself on the ground with the others and started ushering them out quickly.

“This way ma’am….It’s alright sir, just keep walking….Oh, buddy,” there was a kid cowering in an all too familiar way behind a car, so Peter reached out a hand, watching as the kid looking up at him, something like awe shining in his wide eyes. When he’d grabbed hold of Peter’s hand, he gently pulled him over and lifted him up onto his shoulders. “You see anyone you know?”

The little boy looked around, unsure, before his face lit up and he was pointing eagerly. “O-over there! My dad!”

“Alright,” Peter huffed, fighting his way through the crowd to the panicked looking man who was stock-still in the feverish crowd. 

“Dad! Dad!” The kid waved his arms frantically, and somehow over all the ruckus, the man heard him. Peter could see the relief flooding his face as he raced over to the two of them, reaching up and scooping the little boy into his arms. “Daddy! Spider-Man saved me!”

'Thank you so much,” the father’s voice was choked and Peter merely shook his head.

“It’s what I do, sir. And you, kiddo,” Peter leaned down to the little boy, “stick with your dad, yeah?”

The kid nodded quickly and Peter ruffled his hair before shooting a web and lifting himself onto the tower of the bridge, he still hadn’t seen what all the ruckus was about…

It was obvious what the ruckus was all about. There had been a pile up at the end of the bridge and from what he could see, it was bad. At least four cars were completely flipped over, another was on fire, and…no. 

No no no.

He knew that car, and worse, who was most definitely in it. He should’ve realized it sooner, the whole reason you were back in Queens for the weekend was to pick up some furniture to bring back to your apartment. You’d told him you were going to be driving back to school. He should’ve known, should’ve realized.

But now he was watching your car hang off the broken railing. The sight made every single cell in his body freeze for a split second. Were you still in it? Had you gotten out like some of the other civilians? He wasn’t going to wait around to find out. 

Peter flung out his wrist, hauling himself over as quickly as he could. He stopped beside the car and he could see you clearly through the window, your eyes shut, head laying on the steering wheel, blood dripping from your hairline. 

Peter was going to be sick. 

He had to get himself together. But just as he was snapping himself out of his fight, flight, or freeze (where he was currently frozen) moment, the car that had been up in flames blew up, sending your car flying off the rail, Peter close behind you.

“No!” He shot one web and caught himself before flinging his other hand towards your car, his web sticking to the bumper. He lifted himself up before bracing his feet on the concrete and pulling you up with every ounce of strength in his body. 

He was panting by the time he had your car planted back on the road, but he didn’t feel tired at all. The exact opposite. He rushed over to the drivers’ side and yanked the door open. You were still there, limp in the car seat, and the blood around your hairline was more than he remembered it, dripping down onto your cheek. He winced at the thought that he might’ve had something to do with that. 

“Ace, honey, can you hear me?” He leaned in, hovering over you, and patted your cheek. “Baby come on, open those pretty eyes for me.” It wasn’t until he went to wrap an arm around your waist so he could pull you out did he notice the awkward angle at which your arm was bent. 

Peter hissed at the sight. He hated seeing you so broken, so hurt. This wasn’t how you were supposed to be. You were supposed to be rolling your eyes at him, making fun of him for everything he did, not this. 

“C’mon Ace, just tell me you can hear. Give me something sweetheart.” He kept murmuring words in your ear as he slowly worked you out of your seatbelt and lifted you carefully, mindful of your injuries. 

“Hey!” Peter kept an arm around your waist as he waved the other around at the paramedics who were starting to flood the scene.

Two middle aged men rolled over a gurney and quickly got you out of Peter’s hold. He knew it was the right thing to do but it almost made him angry. He needed to hold you, to make sure you were there. But you needed help right now, and that was more important than anything. 

So he let you go, trailing after the two men. “She hit her head, pretty sure she’s got a concussion. Something’s wrong with her arm too.”

“Thank you for your help,” one of the medics said to him, “we’ll take it from here.”

But he didn’t go. Peter followed them as they rolled you into the ambulance, desperately wanting to just step in and stay by your side.

“Is she going to be okay?” He asked quietly. 

The medic turned to look at him, as if surprised he was still there, and he knew why. If this were anyone else, Peter would’ve just trusted the medics and swung away to see where else he was needed. But this wasn’t just anyone. 

This was you. 

The love of his life. 

The first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing before he slept, and in all the in-between moments. The only person he saw a future with. The person whose forgiveness he still had to earn. And you were unconscious in the back of an ambulance. 

So he wasn’t leaving, not yet. Not until they slammed the doors in his face and drove off. 

“We’ll do what we can,” the man said to him seriously. Peter recognized it for what it was, a carefully worded non-answer. They still didn’t know the full extent of your injuries and they weren’t about to give him false hope. 

Peter stood there silently as the medic slammed the back doors of the ambulance shut, catching one more glimpse at your face. The ambulance drove off, sirens blaring, and it took him a few minutes to fully gather himself. 

He had to finish his job here, if anything, so he could make it back to you faster. 

The next hour or so was hell for Peter. He’d had to stick around and help sort out the mess on the bridge when all he really wanted to do was get in that ambulance with you and follow you to the hospital and everywhere after that. 

He’d never felt so obligated to help people before, it was just something he’d always done, something he was happy to do. But not now. Every person, every accident, was just something holding him back from finally rushing over to that hospital to see you. 

But finally, it was over. People were safe again, all the injured had been helped out or taken by paramedics if it was severe, police were trying to figure out how to clear the scene. His job as Spider-Man was over for now. He finally got to be Peter Parker. 

The trip to the hospital was a blur for him. He was swinging furiously, only stopping in a deserted alleyway to change out of his suit before he was running through those doors. He found a nurse who he begged pretty pathetically to let him see you. Fortunately, she was kind enough to look you up in the system. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see you just yet. 

So now, Peter was sitting anxiously in a waiting room, waiting for any news that might come of you. He’d called May and both your parents to tell them what had happened (leaving out the Spider-Man part when he was speaking to your parents). He’d even called Alyssa, whose number he’d had to get from one of the photographers from the paper. 

But it didn’t take long for him to finish off with the phone calls, leaving him alone with his thoughts. And so the spiral started. He didn’t know how badly you were hurt. What if it was worse than what he could see back on the bridge? What if you were permanently hurt? Or worse...

No. He couldn’t go down that road. That was never going to happen, he wouldn’t let it. He didn’t care what he had to do. Hell, he’d give you his heart if you needed it. Just as long as you were okay. 

There was still so much left unsaid between you two, so much he regretted. That morning in the park had barely scratched the surface of it all. He had to tell you about all the horrible parties his roommate had dragged him to, all the jokes and stories he’d made sure to try to remember just so he could share them with you the next time he saw you, all the new constellations he’d spent hours reading about just in hopes of sharing them with you when he saw you again. 

Peter had no clue how long he’d spent sitting in that waiting room, his leg bouncing up and down quickly. If you’d asked him, he would’ve said over ten hours, for sure. Realistically, he knew that wasn’t true. But that was how long it felt until that sweet old nurse was walking up to him again.

He stood as soon as he caught sight of her, anxiously wringing his hands. “How is she? Is she alright? Is she awake, can I see her?”

The nurse shot him a small smile, “She’s gonna be just fine. Poor thing’s a little beat up, but everything should heal over time. She’s not awake, she’s on a lot of medication, but you can see her if you’d like.”

Peter almost felt to the ground in relief. He nodded so quickly he was almost surprised his head didn’t snap off. “Yes, please. Where is she?”

“Just down there,” she pointed down the hall. “Second door on the right.”

He was walking off before she’d even finished talking. He didn’t want to be rude, truly, but all he cared about was seeing you. He reached the door to your room and slowly pushed it open. 

The first thing that hit him was the smell, the reek of antiseptic was so strong his nostrils burned. 

And then he saw you.

Maybe he should’ve waited a little longer. This…this was like a knife to the heart. 

He’d never seen you look so frail, so fragile. Your skin was so much paler than normal, missing that usual glow you always carried around, one he loved. A large white bandage covered your hairline where he’d seen all that blood earlier, and he could already see some redness where it was starting to seep through. The machines and tubes around you made you look smaller, the endless beeping of the heart monitor was both reassuring and taunting at the same time. 

Reassuring because he’d gotten to you in time, you were alive. 

Taunting because he couldn’t have stopped you from getting hurt in the first place. 

He could see your arm wrapped up in a cast and the sight broke his heart his heart all over again. Taking a step, he managed to get his legs working enough to make his way towards a seat beside your bed. 

“Hey Ace,” he murmured, taking your other hand and bringing it up to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. He knew of course that you couldn’t hear him, but that didn’t matter. 

“I’m so sorry, honey. I wish I could’ve helped you sooner, that I could’ve gotten there sooner.” Peter bowed his head and sniffled. He hadn’t gotten a chance to take all of this in seriously. You could’ve died. 

“I’m sorry for everything, Ace. Not just today. Everything. I’ve been such an asshole but I swear to you, I promise that if you give me a chance, I’m gonna make it all up to you. Even if you have a boyfriend, I—”

“Who has a boyfriend?”

Peter’s head shot up in surprise when he heard your raspy voice. Your eyes were half-shut, squinting against the bright light of the hospital room. He sat up straighter and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Hey Ace, how ya feeling?”

You grimaced and shook your head. “Weird.”

He smiled at that. The nurse had told him you were on some heavy medication and he could clearly tell. “Yeah, I bet. You got in a little accident honey.”

Turning your head on the pillow, you looked over at him with wide, hazy eyes. He hadn’t realize just how exhausted you looked, but right then, it was all he could see. “It was s-so scary, Petey. T-there was a…a car, and it hit my car, then something else hit my car, a-and—“

“Shh,” he murmured softly, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. His fingers lingered on your face, tracing the skin where he’d seen blood earlier. If he had to hear how scared you were he was scared he would vomit. “It’s alright, Ace. You’re okay and that’s all that matters right now. I got you out, you’re okay. The doctors are gonna help you, okay? And I’m gonna be right here the whole time.”

You shut your eyes and nodded, leaning into touch and he almost wanted to cry. He knew you would never be acting like this under any other circumstance, but god was he loving it, despite the horrible circumstances that brought you here. 

“Thank you Petey,” the nickname made his heart skip a beat, “and your boyfriend too.”

That made his brows furrow. “Sweetheart…what do you mean?”

“Your boyfriend,” you said simply, your eyes still shut. He watched the way your lashes brushed against your cheek. It reminded him of when you used to fall asleep during your study sessions, you always looked so peaceful he couldn’t never bring himself to wake you, something you always berated him on. “You were just talking about him.”

Oh. “I wasn’t talking about my boyfriend, Ace. I was talking about yours.”

You raised your eyebrows suspiciously and while the topic of James always brought a scowl to his face, he couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your little attitude. Until you said something.

“You’re so silly Petey, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

The drugs must’ve really been getting to you. “Yeah, you do Ace. Tall, blonde, and annoying as hell. I believe he goes by James.” Peter couldn’t stop the little roll of his eyes. 

“Oh him,” you blew a raspberry and waved your hand as if you were trying to brush off the whole topic. “He’s a dummy.”

Peter couldn’t help but laugh at your little proclamation. “Well, I can’t argue with that, sweetheart.”

“But he’s not my boyfriend.” You said with a small shrug, shifting on the bed.

Peter paused. What?

“I think you’re still feeling a little tired sweetheart, you had a long day. Why don’t you try to sleep some more-“

“Nuh uh,” you said defensively, your brows furrowing together in a way that made him wince considering your definitely-there-concussion. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Petey. M’not a liar!”

“I never said you are, Ace.” He assured you gently, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to soothe you. Peter wasn’t a doctor or anything but he figured it probably wasn’t great to get you all worked up in this sort of state. “Don’t worry about it, darling. Forget I even brought it up, alright? I believe you. Just try to get some rest for now.”

That seems to please you and you nuzzle your head back into the pillow.

Now...he knows he should leave you. He knows that you’re hurt, that there’s so many drugs in your system to help you with the pain, pain and trauma that you haven’t even had time to process.

And yet…

“Hey Ace?” He asked gently, leaning forward in his chair a bit. He just felt this urge to be as close to you as possible. If it weren’t for all your injuries he’d already have crawled into the hospital bed and held you so close to his chest, you wouldn’t be able to tell where he began and where you ended. 

That had been the dream. Always. When he’d had you and every goddamn day since he’d lost you.

“Hmm?” You hummed so softly, so sweetly, that all he wanted to do was lean down, kiss your forehead and tell you to rest. And he absolutely would, but he just had one question. 

Peter was a curious man. It was part of what made him such a great scientist. “Is there…a reason you’re saying you don’t have a boyfriend, sweetheart? Did something happen between you and James?”

“Well duh,” you giggled softly and rolled your eyes as if you couldn’t believe he was even asking this. His curiosity was only piqued. 

“Y-yeah?” Peter shifted in his chair, spreading his legs as he leaned closer, his elbow digging into his knee as propped his chin on his fist. He really didn’t want to come off as eager as he felt but there was no hiding the happy glint in his eyes. “Like what?”

Your eyes shifted around as if searching for the answer. “I don’t know if can tell you…”

That made his brows furrow. “Well why not, Ace? You know you can tell me anything.”

“Right, but…” Now you were the confused one., “I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“Did James tell you that? That you can’t tell me?”

“No…” you shook your head slowly. “Nope, not him. Me.”

“You…?” He asked quietly. He couldn’t lie, it hurt. Knowing that there was something you’d been purposefully hiding from him, so much so that you remembered you weren’t supposed to tell him, even in this state. Especially something concerning this. 

“Oh, don’t be sad Petey,” you said quickly when you noticed his downfallen expression. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you if you want!”

It was just like you of course, trying to cheer him up. He couldn’t imagine you’d be acting the same if you were completely sober, though. 

“I broke up with him.” And you said it so casually, your face completely relaxed, as if you had no idea how much those words meant to Peter. 

Now, he wasn’t naive enough to imagine that your breaking up with James meant he could be with you now. No, it didn’t work like that. But… this was a step. 

“Why’s that, Ace?” He had to be normal, he had to act like his heart wasn’t about to beat out of his chest, like his hands weren’t aching to be holding yours. 

“He’s a dummy,” you repeated as if it were obvious. And it was, Peter agreed of course. But there still had to be more. 

“Right, of course he is Ace, you’re so right. When did you… break up?” He couldn’t lie, he felt like at any second you’d snap of out this drug-happy-haze you were in, realize he was kind of sort of grilling for information on your (past?) relationship, and make him leave. But he just wanted to know a bit more. 

“Oh…pffft…” You laid back on the bed and blew a raspberry. “Like forever ago, Petey.”

What in the world? “Forever ago? Wow, that must be a long time ago, Ace.”

“Yeah,” you let out a heavy sigh and shut your eyes. “S’so long ago… that day we were running the paper.”

“What?!”

Oh. 

Oh.  

But that would mean… That day was over a week ago. He’d been you plenty of times since then. That dinner with him and May, all those small moments between you two… you were already single. 

“That…that long, Ace?” He was glad you weren’t fully aware, it meant you wouldn’t notice how choked he sounded. 

You didn’t really reply, just made some sort of soft, sighing noise as you lay back against the pillow and shut your head. Peter breathed deeply, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. 

He stayed there for a while, watching you sleep, his mind spinning from everything that had happened today. Last night had been amazing, the best time he’d had since he’d gotten back. Staring at you now, injured, drugged out, and laying in a hospital bed really put into perspective for him how quickly things could change. 

How much he needed you in his life. And not just as a friend. 

Peter was stuck there, stewing in his thoughts and doubts and everything ever when the door to your room was gently pushed open, revealed a worried-looking Alyssa. He stood, clearing his throat as she bounded in, eyes wide, hands clutching at her phone so tightly her knuckles were white. It seemed she’d been the closest of everyone he’d called.

“How is she?” She asked Peter worriedly, trying to keep her voice down for your sake.

“She’s…she’s gonna be okay.” Her sigh of relief resonated deeply with him. “But she is pretty banged up.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she murmured gently, her eyes traced over your figure with deep sympathy. Peter did the same, and every second felt like his own personal hell. 

Alyssa turned to him with a puzzled look. “How’d you know about the accident? And how’d you get here so quick?”

Shit. “Oh, umm…I commute, so I was on the bridge as well, but nowhere near the accident like she was. When I saw the paramedics wheeling her to the ambulance…I went with them.” Enough of the truth. 

She nodded, looking back down at you, her fingers gently brushing some hair out of your face. “Well it’s good she had someone with her, even if she didn’t know it. And even if it was you.”

Ouch. He tried not to take it to heart though, he knew she was just looking out for you. “Yeah,” he murmured, “my thoughts exactly.”

“Im sorry, Peter,” Alyssa sighed and turned toward him. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, really. I appreciate your help, and I’m sure she does too.”

He shook his head, waving off her apology. “Don’t worry about it. I understand.”

Alyssa just sighed again and started pacing the room. “She did not deserve this.” He couldn’t agree more. “Do you know all that’s wrong with her? What’d her doctors say?”

Peter shook his head again. “No, they made me wait in the waiting room, later on a nurse came and told me I could see her but she wasn’t conscious. Honestly, I thought I was lucky that they even let me in so I thought I’d just wait for her parents to get here and get the full story from them. I called them, they be be here any—”

That wasn’t enough for her, apparently. Peter watched as Alyssa completely ignored him and made her way to your bedside, grabbing at the clipboard there and scanning them. 

“I…didn’t know you were pre-med.”

“M’not,” she brushed him off with a wave of her hand, her eyes never leaving the piece of paper.

Peter paused. “Well then…what’re you doing.”

“I went out with this dude who was pre-med. A total bore and a total pain, but I did learn a few things.”

“Yeah?” He asked, stepping up closer to her and looking over her shoulder as if the medical jargon would suddenly start making sense to him as well. “What can you make out of that?”

“Broken arm, obviously…she’s got a concussion, some internal bleeding, and a fracture in her right rib.”

Peter winced as she went on, his heart aching at the thought of you going through all that pain. 

“You said you called her parents?” Alyssa asked quietly. And when Peter looked over at her, he noticed her nose was tinged red, and her eyes as well.

“I did, yeah. Right before I called you.”

She nodded, pursing her lips. Quietly, she made her way to the chair he’d been sitting in earlier. “Is there…is there anything we can do?” She whispered. 

Peter wanted to tell her that if there was, he’d probably already done it by now. But he understood exactly what she meant and that wouldn’t help right now. “Be here. Help her. She still doesn’t fully understand what happened, I don’t think. She woke up a bit ago when I first came in, she was high as a kite so she probably won’t remember it. But she told me how scared she was, how scary the whole situation was.

“So…to answer your question, I think the best thing we can do for her is be there. Here in the hospital, and out there when she’s discharged.”

Alyssa nodded. He could see the tears swimming in her eyes, but he could almost see the spark behind them, the sheer determination to be there for her friend in every way she possibly could. 

Peter liked her. 

He looked back at you, unsure if the paleness of your skin was because of the bright, hospital fluorescents, or all the pain you’d been through today. 

“We’ll be there for her.” Alyssa said firmly and Peter appreciated the use of “we”.

“We will,” he nodded, his eyes never leaving your form. 

Thank you so much for helping, if you have any questions just let me know!

Alyssa’s text shone through Peter’s phone screen as he made his way around your apartment. It took everything in him to leave your side, but your parents had shown up and you needed some of your things. So he decided to make himself useful and also give your mom and dad the space to freak out about you. 

Your apartment was cozy, he thought as he walked around. It wasn’t that hard to find the small touches in the cramped space that were more you over Alyssa. Mugs with cute designs on them, a throw blanket that he recognized as the same one you used to take out with you on the fire escape and cuddle with as you waited for him to finish patrol. Sometimes you’d even take it with you when he used to swing you both to that old hill where you’d stargaze. He smiled to himself at the memory, there hadn’t been a day that went by since graduation where he hadn’t thought of those moments with you, or a night where he didn’t look up to the sky, stars visible or not, and missed you immeasurably. 

He realized that the reminiscing probably wasn’t the best thing to do right now while you were laying in the hospital waiting for him to get back with your things. He made his way to your bedroom, his heart melting even more as he stepped inside. If he thought the apartment was you, he wasn’t ready for your room. It was like stepping into a time machine and he was back with you at your old apartment, the two of you trying and failing to keep quiet so your parents don’t wake up to find you together in the middle of the night. There were papers, notebooks and pens strewn on the floor and he could practically see you hunched over, brows furrowed as you scribbled furiously, trying not to miss any thought. 

But there were some differences now. There were pictures, ones he didn’t recognize, pictures he wasn’t a part of anymore. Some of you and Alyssa, some with MJ, one on your nightstand with you and James that made him scoff quietly and roll his eyes. The thought of that guy alone was almost enough to make him physically gag. How could you ever think he was right for you? Well, you didn’t apparently, not anymore at least. He had to gauge more information from you about that, preferably when you weren’t drugged up or laying in a hospital bed. 

So he walked around your room slowly, trying to figure out what would be useful. He grabbed a pair of fuzzy socks, your phone charger, and your headphones. They doctor had said they weren’t sure how long they needed to keep you there just yet, but Peter wasn’t going to be unprepared or have you feeling anymore uncomfortable than you most likely already were. 

So he walked over to your closet, he wanted to grab a few things he knew you’d appreciate. He grabbed an empty tote bag of yours to fill up. He grabbed a few sweaters and cardigans because he knew you got cold easily and he imagined sterile hospital rooms didn’t help with that. He was rummaging around through the small shelf where you had your sweatpants, trying to decide which one seemed the comfiest when his hand pressed against something hard, making a small rustling sound. 

Confused, he pushed away the clothes covering whatever it was you had hidden in your closet, and he was met with a small, square-shaped gift. He would’ve left it, really, the last thing he wanted to do as he was gathering things to take back to the hospital where you lay injured was snoop in your room. But his eyes caught sight of something. The tag. 

Merry Christmas Petey ♡︎

Your familiar scrawl stared back at him tauntingly, making him wonder when you could’ve ever possibly gotten him a Christmas gift—

Winter break. That damned winter break where he was supposed to see you, but everything had gone wrong. He’d chickened out at the last minute. He knew he shouldn’t, knew he had no right to open this even if it had been originally bought for him. But Peter had always been too curious for his own good.

With his heart in his throat, he pulled the wrapping off slowly. He pulled out the box, a small smile on his lips when he saw the “LEGO” label on the top right corner. But his smile fell when he noticed what set you’d gotten for him. 

Map of Constellations. 

Oh. It was perfect. 

And he was the whole reason he’d never gotten it in the first place. 

Peter felt… well, he wasn’t really sure what he felt. Guilt, definitely. Touched, obviously. But regret. God, he could just picture you when you’d gotten that text from him two winters ago… of course you hated his guts. 

He realized he owed you an explanation. Whether you spit on his face and told him to never speak to you again, or you accepted it with that icy, close-off demeanor, he owed it to you. He’d left you in the dark for so long about what he was thinking, all the reasons and he’d conjured up. The two of you had never worked like that, especially him. No, you were always the one person he could trust, the one person who he turned to for every thing. 

Peter was a terrible secret keeping in general, but especially with you. Something in him just wanted to surrender to you, tell you everything little secret, every single thought. He hadn’t let that part of him win over in a while. 

Maybe it was finally time it did.

With his heart in his throat, he returned the Lego set to the back of your of your closet, the torn wrapping paper resting around it, its edges being held down by the box. But if you were to pick it up, it’d fall off, and you’d easily be able to tell someone had been there and opened it. 

Great, now not only did he feel guilty about letting you get hurt when he was literally the hero of the city, but he felt even more guilty for snooping. But you’d forgive him…right?

Maybe he could get even with you after finding that file on his laptop. But he wasn’t upset about that at all, actually. He loved that you knew he’d thought of you while he was away, that he kept up with your achievements and he cared about them. 

He closed your closet and packed a few more things before standing in your doorway, giving the room one final look, trying to decide if he’d forgotten anything. His eyes fell on the picture on your nightstand, the one that depicted you and James. You were both smiling wide, James’ long arm hovering over you and holding up the camera to capture the picture

In a few quick strides Peter was back in the room, grabbing the picture frame and lowering it face down onto the table. He didn’t think you’d appreciate coming home after everything you’d been through and having a photo of your ex great you as soon as you stepped into your room. 

Yeah…yeah, thats why he’d done it. For you. Duh. 

Pleased with himself, Peter stepped out of your room and out of the apartment altogether, a smile tugging at his lips and he carried your filled-to-the-brim tote bag. 

Walking through the bright-white hospital hallways, Peter could make out several different noises. A beep…beep…beep… of someone’s heart monitor, the squeaking of un-oiled cart wheels as they scraped along the tile floor, phones ringing at every nurse’s station that he passed, and chatter. Chatter from doctors and nurses alike as they moved in and out of patient’s rooms, chatter from others who were visitors just like him. Honestly, it would’ve been a little overwhelming for him, even though he had much better control over his senses than he did in high school, it was still a lot. 

But he was going to see you and you… well, you always had a way of calming him down. 

You’d been here for close to a week now, your recovery going extremely well, and Peter had come in every single day without fail. There no sign of James—or whether he knew you were injured or not—and you never mentioned him. There was some hushed conversation between you and Lyss a few days ago (he hadn’t been actively trying to eavesdrop, but he had sharp senses and it just happened) where he’d heard you tell her you were pretty sure you’d told him about the breakup while you were kind-of-sort-of out of it. Lyss had just laughed as if it totally checked. 

That was another thing that had sort of developed during your stay here. His (sort of) friendship with Alyssa. They’d bonded over their desire to help you and be there for you after everything you’d been through. She hadn’t once threatened to fire him from the paper, so all in all, Peter thought he was doing good.

He waved to a few of the nurses he’d become familiar with during your time here as he made his way to your room. So far, much to his eager excitement, you hadn’t kicked him out yet any of the times he’d come to visit. Sometimes he stayed in a chair beside you, old laptop in his lap while he pretended to be working on something for school or the paper. Of course, he wanted all his attention to be solely on you, but he had a feeling you’d respond to him better if he was (pretending) being productive. You didn’t really speak to him other than answering the same question he asked every day, “How’re you feeling, Ace?”, to which you would answer “Good”, despite laying injured in a hospital bed.

He figured now wasn’t the best time to be hounding you about talking about everything, not when you were still going through it. He could protest for details later. There was a silent agreement between the two of you. He never pushed, and you let him worry. Silently. Because let’s be honest, you both knew exactly why he was by your side every free second he could get and then some. But you never asked him to leave. Maybe that meant something. 

Or maybe not. 

When he reached your door, it was open, and the bed was empty. Huh… maybe you’d gone to get more tests done? 

That was exactly what he would’ve believed, and he would’ve sat in a chair waiting for you, if a nurse hadn’t seen him and taken some pity on him. 

“She’s not here anymore,” the voice was familiar, and when Peter whipped around, he recognized her as the same, short old lady who had spoken to him when he’d been a mess in the waiting room the same day you’d been admitted. 

“What do you mean?” Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion. Had they transferred you? But that wouldn’t make sense. 

“She checked herself out not too long ago, you just missed her, actually.” The nurse informed him with a sad smile. 

“Wait…” he shook his head quickly, his heart racing, “no, no. She can’t do that, she’s still hurt. She hasn’t been here long enough.”

She simply shrugged. “Her doctors cleared her, and she jumped at the chance to get out. She is definitely going to have some outpatient recovery, which we’ve already discussed. She was informed to take it easy, however. I trust you’ll be the one to make sure she sticks to that, hm?”

Peter was silent for a moment, his mind still reeling. In his opinion, you were nowhere near fit enough to be sent back home. You were still hurt, still in the thick of your healing process. He knew he wasn’t a doctor, but he didn’t trust you were alright to be sent away just yet. 

But you were gone, and knowing you, you’d probably try walking for at least half the trip. That’s what he had to worry about now. 

“Yeah, yeah you can,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. 

The nurse simply smiled at him. “You two make a cute couple.”

“Oh.. we’re not… no,” he shook his head quickly, but he’d be lying if he said her words didn’t make his heart skip a beat. So, other people saw it too.

“Uh huh,” she nodded, a sly smile playing on her lips. “That’s what they all say.”

Peter flushed. “I mean—I mean we were, but not…not anymore.”

“Your fault, I take it?” She asked with a raised brow, but Peter could tell it wasn’t really a question. 

“Um…yeah,” he murmured, looking down as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, it was.”

She let out an amused huff, as if she knew everything before Peter even said it to her. “Can I let you in on a little secret, young man?”

Peter lifted his head slightly, peeking up at her.

“Try,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Try, try, and keep trying. I saw you with her these past few days, and I saw her with you. Now I don’t know what happened, but from what I can see, there’s a chance for you two. You just have to want it enough.”

God, did he want it. He wanted it more than anything. 

“I do,” he whispered desperately. He wasn’t sure why he was confiding in a stranger like this, but…it felt right. “I just don’t know if she feels the same. It’s—it’s been a while and I wouldn’t blame her if…”

“Oh honey, she does,” the nurse said with a small chuckle, her eyes glinting as if she knew something Peter could never guess. “Or at the very least, she will. If you want it bad enough to work for it.”

He paused. He wanted to, of course he did. But when he’d come back, you’d had James. But now…

“You said she checked herself out? How long ago?” He asked suddenly, a spark of determination in his eyes that made the nurse look at him approvingly.

“Not long, just a little bit before you arrived. But I suggest you get going, young man.”

“Peter… it’s Peter, and thank you, ma’am.”

“Don’t thank me, go get your girl, Peter.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He was racing back down the hospital hallway the same way he’d come in, shooting a quick “thank you!” over his shoulder to the nurse. 

He was going to find you. And he was going to spend every second after that actively begging for your forgiveness.

The harsh wind hit him hard the second he stepped out of the hospital, whipping his hair back and giving his face a soft flush. But he didn’t care about any of that. He walked quickly, debating whether or not swinging would be more efficient, and making sure you got home properly. But he came to the conclusion that on foot would be better. He needed to speak to you, face to face. It was too risky, given all your injuries at the moment, he would never try something knowing there was even a chance you might get hurt. 

So he ran. He figured you wouldn’t really be able to get too far and, hopefully, you hadn’t hailed a cab just yet. He wondered whether you were planning to return to your apartment or your parents’ place. He hoped for the latter, at least then he’d be closer to you. 

It didn’t take him long to spot you, hair blowing wildly in the wind as you slowly made your way down the sidewalk. 

“Ace, wait up!”

He watched you pause, turn, meet his eyes, turn again and continue walking. He should’ve expected that, really. 

“Ace, sweetheart, please.” He was closer now, pushing through the others crowding the sidewalk. He didn’t care if anyone heard him, he didn’t care if he got weird looks. All he cared about was you.

You didn’t need to turn to know he was right behind you, you could just tell. Peter’s presence always had some sort of effect on you, a tug of some kind, as if your hearts held some sort of magnetic field only for each other, each one constantly seeking the other out. You were sure you could seek him out in a crowded room, blindfolded and deaf. 

But you didn’t turn. 

“Look Peter,” you whisper in a hoarse voice. You weren’t sure if it was from all the emotions coursing through you right now, from how rough the past couple of days had been, or if you were just tired. Maybe all one the above. “I really—really—appreciate everything you’ve done for me this past week. I’ve seen videos online of the accident and…” you inhaled deeply. It had been hard to see yourself like that. But people were set on capturing Spider-Man’s heroism on camera, you’d seen it plenty of times before. You’d just never been the victim. 

Peter winced, taking a couple long strides so he stood before you now, placing a hand on your shoulder which got you to, thankfully, stop for a second. But your gaze fell to the ground and he didn’t like that.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Ace.” He murmured gently, his voice like a soothing balm to every scar on your body, physical or not. And you hated it. “You know nothing good would come out of you seeing yourself like that.”

“It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t go looking for the videos. But…they were all over my feed and there’s nothing better to do in the hospital than scroll.”

You didn’t mention that your algorithm tended to favor Spider-Man related videos and articles, making sure they showed up first-click for you. 

Peter’s frown only deepened. “You shouldn’t have been scrolling in the first place, you had a concussion. Surely your doctors told you that.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course that thought had crossed his mind. “I turned my brightness all the way down, it was fine.”

He scoffed as if he were personally offended at the idea. “Fine? You thought turning your brightness down would make it—”

“Oh my god, Peter.” You stared at him in disbelief. “So not the time for that.”

Peter simply sighed before he lowered the hand on your shoulder to grip the bicep of your un-injured arm gently, leading you to a small alleyway between shops on the sidewalk where the two of you had stood. 

You frowned. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“We need to talk, Ace.” He didn’t let go even after he’d stopped walking. It was as if he knew you’d make a break for it the first second you got the chance. He could tell you were overwhelmed, of course you were, who wouldn’t be after everything you’d been through. And he knew what you did when you were overwhelmed. It was what you’d done that morning walking Central Park with him.

“About what?” You averted your gaze, looking to the side, trying to come off as uninterested as possible. This might’ve been the worst possible time to try to make conversation. 

“You know about what, Ace.” He whispered softly. 

You shook your head, refusing to meet his eyes. “No, no, I told you thank you. And I meant it, but other than that, I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“What in the world are you thanking me for?”

“For saving me,” you said, as if it were obvious. 

Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever looked more horrified in his life. “Ace, sweetheart…baby, what? You never ever have to thank me for that. It’s my job.”

You tried not to react to the pet names falling so easily off his lips, but you could feel a burning in your eyes, and that horrible feeling of something stuck in your throat. “Oh please,” you tried to sound casual, but your voice was quiet in fear of it breaking into a million pieces on the alleyway floor if you raised it even a decibel, “people thank Spider-Man all the time, even if it is your job.”

“That’s not the job I was talking about,” he whispered, his voice soft as air, his grip on your arm tightening ever-so-slightly.

“Uh uh, no.” you pushed away from him, shaking your head quickly and finally looking up at him. A face so familiar, you were sure you’d remember every feature, even in death. 

Peter’s expression fell and he couldn’t help the unconscious step he took toward you, as if the two of you were in a dance, push and pull, wherever you went he followed. And god did he wish you would just let him fucking follow. 

He’d lost direction for a while, but now he was back and he needed you to lead him everywhere and then some. 

“You can’t just say shit like that as if it’s…as if it’s…” you looked away again, rubbing at your eyes as if you could just scrub all the tears, all the emotions right out. 

“As if it’s what, Ace? As if it’s normal? 'Cause it is. I may be Spider-Man, sweetheart, but my one real job, the only one I care about, the one I’d pick over everything and everyone, is protecting you. No matter how much you hate me, no matter how much you don’t want me around, I’m yours.”

You exhaled shakily, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You knew it, of course you did. You knew deep down, in every fiber of your being, even when he was five hundred miles away, even when he was back and you wouldn’t look twice in his direction, if you were ever in trouble, Peter wouldn’t hesitate to be there for you. 

It was why it wasn’t a shock at all when you’d opened your eyes in that cold hospital room and he had been the first face you’d seen. 

But it hurt. God, did it hurt. Every single time you remembered it was like a hand shoved its way in your chest, broken every bone and torn every muscle to grab your heart, squeezed it roughly, and ripped it out. 

“I’m not going to let you shut me out,” he whispered seriously, “especially after everything’s that’s happened to you. So forget about it.”

You wanted to forgive him, of course you did. That night he’d stopped by your fire escape not long after his return, the walk in the park the morning after the photography competition, working together in the newsroom, dinner with him and May, the way that night had been so perfect…you’d wanted to forgive him so badly. 

But the hand shoved, and tore, and squeezed, and ripped. 

And you wanted him to know how much you hurt. That you weren’t just being petty and difficult, but that you’d loved and loved and loved till it tore you in half.  

Your lip wobbled, but you fought to push through, to get the words out before you lost them forever, “I waited. I waited for you every night and every day I thought you would come back for me. I thought you’d try to fix things between us again, because how could you be okay with it? But that was the only way I pushed through, I told myself this was what you wanted, you didn’t want to be with me, for now at least, you needed to grow and you need your own space and I owed it to you because of how much I loved you.”

Sniffling, you wiped some tears off your face before continuing, “But I fucking waited, Peter, because I couldn’t give up on us. Every night I’d turn on my lamp and sit by the window and look for the stars and wonder if you were doing the same thing, if you were thinking of me when you saw them. If you were thinking of me at all.

“I was so excited when you asked to see me during winter break, I thought ‘this is it, we’re finally gong to fix things, but then you cancelled.”

“I’m so sorry Ace—”

“I know that you lied,” you breathed. You were silent for a minute, letting your words sink in for him. “I know that you lied to me about not being able to make it. I went home that night anyway, I was going to visit my parents and drop off your present with May, but when I turned the corner I saw you, walking and laughing and standing right there after you’d told me you couldn’t see me because your flight got cancelled.

“And what's even worse,” you let out a laugh that held no humor, “is that I still defended you! I still tried to reason it out because I didn’t want to believe that you would lie to me—”

“I wouldn’t lie to you Ace, please—”

“But you did!” You snapped. “And you’re doing it right now too, because I saw you, Peter! And I really just don’t understand why you would invite me in the first place just to cancel on me, is it some weird manipulation tactic or something?” Even as the words left your mouth, they felt wrong, and you felt a stab of regret when you saw the immediate flash of hurt that took over his features.

Peter Parker was a lot of things, but that wasn’t one of them.

“God, no. Never. Of course not, I—” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly, “I did want to see you, and my flight did get cancelled.”

“Then what happened, Pete?” Your voice was soft, quiet, sad. He felt like beating himself up but he owed you this, owed you this explanation because the thought of you spending over a year thinking he had done that to manipulate you? Or worse, because he didn’t want to see you at all, was killing him.

“I was going to tell you I booked another flight, but then I thought of seeing you,” a tear fell down his face. Then another. “I thought of actually seeing you and having to leave again, about not being able to stay, not being able to kiss you and hold you like I wanted—like I needed—and I couldn’t do it, Ace. I couldn’t handle it I’m sorry.”

You watched him cry, speechless, as your own tears fell silently down your face. So much time lost, so much hurt spread and felt. “I didn’t know you’d seen me,” he continued, “I had no clue Y/N.” He walked up to you and grabbed your hand in his, placing his other on the shoulder of your arm with the cast. “I would’ve fixed it or—or done something, fuck, I don’t know, but anything other than you thinking that I didn’t want to see you. I’m sorry I was so fucking scared.”

“MJ said you had a girlfriend,” you were staring at your shoes now. You weren’t quite sure why those words had left your mouth, you were nowhere near that topic, but…it was the only thing you could think.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

His confusion made you confused, and you looked up to see his utterly lost expression. “You don’t have to lie Peter, she told me about the girl you were going out with and I get it, really, I’m not mad. Hell, that’s why I went out with James so—”

“Ace, baby, I never had a girlfriend. I never went out with anyone.”

You went silent. What? “But—but MJ said you went on a date?”

“Ace, I know I haven’t been Mr. Honesty in the past, we just covered that, but I’m telling you, I never went on a date. I mean, there was this one time where my roommate tried to set me up with someone, he did that thing where the three of us plan a hangout and the third person conveniently ‘bails’ at the last second, but I left as soon as I found out what was going on, like, right after he told me he wouldn't be making it. But I don’t possibly know how MJ could know about that.”

You shook your head, confusion growing more by the second. “That’s not what happened. MJ told me she was on the phone with you, and there was a girl, and you were getting dressed up, like date dressed up, and…” you trailed off, waiting for the punch to the gut when he told you that there was a mistake, that there was a date and he had just forgotten up until now. 

“I still don’t know what you mean—” You saw the realization dawning on his features. “Son of a bitch,” he murmured, shaking his head. 

“So you did go on a date,” you mumbled bitterly. 

“No! God, no,” he shook his head quickly, dismissing the words as soon as they left your mouth. “But…I was on FaceTime with her one day while I was getting ready—”

“For your date.”

“No, Ace. God, stop saying that. No…I was getting ready for some lame celebratory dinner with my physics team. There was this competition with other colleges, it’s sort of a big deal, it was in the paper and stuff, you probably would’ve written a killer article about it, but anyway we won, so we organized this dinner at a fancy restaurant to celebrate.”

Your burrows furrowed as you took in his words. A celebratory team dinner? But what about—

“And the girl? The girl was Amy, she was dating my roommate, she’s actually who introduced me to the team. Yeah, she was rushing me ‘cause I was late, and she was my ride. It was not a date, Ace. It was…it was just a bunch of nerds celebrating beating some other nerds.” 

He stepped even closer to you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “It wasn’t a date, Y/N. Please believe me.”

Your mind was reeling. So…the whole time he was away…since graduation…

“You never went out with anyone else?” Your voice was quiet, scared, as if this time, his answer would be different. 

“No, baby. Never.” He answered without hesitation. “I’ve never wanted anyone else, I’ve never thought about anyone else. It has only ever been you, Ace. It will only ever be you.”

Tears burned in your eyes and you could feel your face flushing with unshed emotions. But that meant everything you’d been imagining, everything that had set you off, your catalyst, it hadn’t been true. 

“B-but I thought…You were supposed to…”

“No,” he whispered softly, leaning down to be more face level with you. “I’m not supposed to do anything other than be with you. And I know—I know I’m the reason I lost you in the first place, but I swear on everything I am, Ace, I was doing it for you. Even if it was stupid and horrible for the both of us, my only intention was what would benefit you in the long run.

“This relationship—us—me and you… it’s never been fair to you, and that’s completely my fault. I know how much you used to worry about me when I was out being Spider-Man. You used to lie, to say you were staying up for some other reason, not to make sure I got home safe. But I could see through you every time.”

You shook your head followed, by a soft sniffle. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with everything, Ace. It wouldn’t have been fair to you, worrying about me every second I wasn’t on the other side of the phone, staying up just to hear from me, staying in and opting out from every event just get in a short call with me…It was too much, too much for me to ever willingly put you through.”

A part of you wanted to argue, to tell him you’d missed out on a good night’s sleep, on more parties and events than you could count because of the breakup. But another part of you knew that that wouldn’t have helped. The part that knew Peter Parker would do anything for you. Even if it meant making his life even harder than it already would’ve been after moving to a new city in a new state to attend a new school. 

“You know I would’ve put myself through that and worse for you,” you whispered brokenly. 

“I do know.” He lifted the hand that gripped just below your shoulder and brought it up to cup your face, his thumb gently caressing your skin, wiping away tears that you hadn’t even realized had fallen. And it felt so good to be held by him like this again, so right, so perfect. It was like every cell in your body was finally alive after being dormant for two years. 

“And that’s why I had to be the one to end things, because you never would’ve.”

It only took one shaky inhale before you crumbled, sobbing hard while Peter held you close, his large arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his chest, being mindful of your broken arm. 

Your mind was a super cut of every moment the two of you shared up until now. Graduation, running into him that first day of spring semester, the photography competition, that conversation in the park the morning after…He was still Peter. Your Peter. He always had been. 

Pulling away, you sniffled, wiping your nose with your sleeve, looking up at him through tear heavy lashes. Peter didn’t waste a second before he was cupping your face between his hands, holding you reverently, and if you were the most precious thing in the world. And with the way he was looking at you right now, you almost believed it yourself. 

“You know,” you cleared your throat, your voice still watery and shaky from all your tears, “I still haven’t fully forgiven you, Pete. Even with good intentions, what you did…it gutted me.”

Peter’s eyes clenched shut with pain. But not for himself and your lack of forgiveness, no, but for you and what he’d put you through. Even if what he’d done had hurt him too, had hurt more than breaking every bone in his body, it hurt more that he’d caused you any sort of pain. 

“I don’t blame you, sweetheart, of course I don’t,” he murmured quietly, leaning down and pressing his forehead against your own. His heart skipped a beat when you didn’t pull away, when he realized you hadn’t pulled away from him at all tonight. “But I just have one thing to ask of you, Ace.”

You looked up at him, a question in your eyes. Peter takes a second to just relish in the moment, the feeling of your soft skin against the palms of his hands, those beautiful eyes that he’d dreamt about every night, brighter than any star in the galaxy, looking up at him…he enjoys every second and he thanks whatever god or angel may be listening for giving him this again. 

“Just…don’t decide to hate me just yet, alright? I know I have no right to ask you of this, and you have every right to hate me as much and as soon as possible. But can you just take a few days? Maybe three? Think about everything and then get back to me? And I promise you no more lies, no more big decisions without talking to you first…just…just me. And you.”

Your lips quirked up with a small smile as you leaned into his touch. “Three days?”

“Three days.”

“Deal.”

(3 months later)

“See that brighter star just below Orion’s belt?”

“Yes, she’s very pretty.”

“Well, I’m sure she appreciates the compliment, Ace. But I think it’s a dude.”

“What?” You frowned deeply at his words. “And why would that be?”

“That’s Sirius, the brightest star in Earth’s night sky.”

“Oh my god!” You flipped over and pushed yourself up onto your elbows to look down at him. “Like in Harry Potter!”

Peter laughed loudly, already expecting that same exact response from you. He grabbed at you and tugged you back down onto his chest. “Just wait, Ace, it gets better. Sirius is a part of a constellation called Canis Major, also known as the ‘Greater Dog’ constellation.”

“Dog! Just like in Harry Potter!”

He chuckled again. “Yeah, yeah. Just like in Harry Potter.”

Things had been going well for you two so far. The three days after that night had passed and you’d decided to forgive him, and give him another chance, if anything, for that girl who’d spent over a year sitting by the window, hoping and dreaming for another chance like this. It didn’t mean everything was okay, you’d been sure to remind him of that, and you’d told him to think of this as more of a pre-second chance. 

Honestly, you’d been teasing more than anything, but he’d accepted without a second thought. But it was a big help, slowly getting back into this. It felt so natural, it took little to no effort. And yet, every now and again he’d say something about a place on his old campus he thought you’d love, you’d introduce him to new places you’d found around the city and had thought of sharing with him since you’d first been there. 

It was eye-opening in its own way. Despite going through all that time not speaking or seeing each other, you were still with each other. Always. 

Wherever one of you went, the other followed, whether physically or not. It was made obvious in all the USBs Peter had filled with photos of things that had reminded him of you. It was made obvious in the box of handwritten letters you’d been writing for him since he’d left. 

It was a beautiful thing, to be so loved, despite everything that had come between you. Despite the silence, the distance, the hurt—you’d both still held on, just like he’d promised. You’d still carried each other, remembered each other in the quiet ways that mattered most. 

“Hey,” he spoke up softly, pointing up at the sky. That was another thing you’d discovered he’d done to keep you close during those darker times. Learn more star stuff to share with you. “See that one? The kind of dimmer one to Sirius’ right?”

“Mhm.”

“That one’s called Procyon, and it’s the principal star in the constellation Canis Major, which is the ‘Lesser Dog constellation.”

“Wait…” Peter bit back a laugh as you flipped over again to look down at him. He knew you couldn’t help yourself and he found it equally hilarious and adorable that every time you had something to say, you had to be looking at him to do so. 

“Yes, Ace?”

“There’s a “Greater Dog’ and Lesser Dog’ constellation? That’s so mean! Why’re we comparing them like that?”

Yup. Absolutely adorable. “I dunno, Ace, maybe the ancient stargazers had something against dogs.”

You scoffed and lay back down against his chest. “So…is Procyon the ‘lesser’ dog ‘cause she’s smaller?”

Peter smiled, his eyes no longer on the sky as you lay back down against his chest. “Yes, Procyon is the lesser dog because it’s not as bright as Sirius. But its name actually means ‘before the dog’ in Greek because it rises before Sirius, which y’know, they sometimes just call the ‘dog star.’”

You hummed softly taking in all his words. “You know what’s so crazy? This is the same sky people looked at thousands and thousands of years ago.”

Peter nodded, his gaze drifting back up to the stars. “That is crazy. Some of those things have been in the sky for millions of year, and people have been looking at them and making constellations out of them for thousands.”

“I wonder how old some of those are,” you mused quietly. 

“It varies, Peter answered simply, “Sirius, the one that we were just talking about? Yeah, it’s still a relatively young star, only about 500 million years old. Some others, like the ones in Orion’s Belt, are billions of years old. It depends on their size and what stage of life they’re in.”

“Imagine being 500 million years old and still being considered young.” You snorted in amusement. Flipping over once again, you smiled down at Peter. “You know a lot more star stuff than you used to.”

Peter grinned, glad he’d impressed you. “Yeah? Be honest, is it hot?”

You couldn’t stop the loud laugh that escaped you. “Hot? Really? That’s what you want to know?”

“Yeah, of course it is.” He was grinning widely now as he pushed himself onto his elbows. “So come on.”

Averting your gaze, you tried not to notice how good his biceps look today, or how his t-shirt had ridden up, revealing the faint line of his abs, just enough to make your thoughts wander. 

“Nope,” you said easily, shaking your head, “it isn’t hot.”

“You little…liar!” Peter lunged at you, tackling you to the ground and pinning you down as you let out a surprised laugh. 

Silence filled the small hilltop, your old place. It had been your first time coming back here since…everything, and you couldn’t have imagined it anymore perfect. 

Even if Peter was always a worrywart.

“Oh my god, Ace, I’m so sorry, did I hurt you—”

“Peter—Petey—relax, sweetie, I’m fine.” You assured him, gently placing a hand over his which was resting on the side of your ribcage. Also known as one of the places where you’d been injured previously. 

He gave you a look as if he didn’t quite believe you. “You always say that, but you were hurt—”

“And now I’m better,” you whispered, giving his hand a soft squeeze, “thanks to you.”

Peter never left you after that night in the alleyway. He’d taken you back to your parents’ apartment (which was conveniently right beside his) and he’d done everything he could to make you more comfortable and make sure you received the proper rest you were in dire need of. 

He had claimed this his actions during that time shouldn’t affect your judgment of his over the course of the three days he’d given you. But of course it had, how could it not? Peter Parker loved you, and you loved him. And despite all the things that you’d been through, you were here now. 

And that meant something. 

You used to wonder if you and Peter held any similarities to the seasonal constellations he’d told you all about. How, once, the two of you had been shining so brightly, and everyone could notice. 

And then came the darker times, when your stars were dimmer, the sky darker, and all you could do was think about what it would be like if you still had him. 

But now you were back, and shining better than ever.

And you had a good feeling that this time would last.

“Hey Ace,” he whispered with a large smile on his face.

“Yes, Peter?”

“I’m so in love with you.”

Yeah?” You grinned wide. “Tell me again.”

He laughed and leaned down to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll tell you however many times you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

oh my goodness🥹💕 its over ahhh i loved writing them so much! if you ever want to see more of them, i’d love to write blurbs and dribbles for them so don’t be afraid to request anything!

thank you all so much for reading!!

‘seasonal’ taglist: @keira-kaz2y5 @imafangirlofeverything @lov3vivian

@miilesvsp @rkivesfilm @starshine145

@blondygwendy