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urdreamgirls-dreamgirl · 8 months

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i would never pretend to not know you, pt. 1

eddie shifts his van into park and approaches the big red double doors of the harrington house. before he can knock, the door on the right swings open, revealing a smiling steve harrington.

“heard you coming,” he says by way of explanation. “your uncle’s in the kitchen. come on.”

eddie follows steve down the hallway to the expansive white kitchen. the room could fit the entire munson trailer in it two times over. wayne turns from the sink when he hears them coming.

“hey, son,” wayne greets him, wiping his hands on a rag he has tucked into his work belt. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, just gotta get underneath here and sort some things out.”

eddie stands there awkwardly for a minute before steve waves his hand.

“c’mon, we can wait in the den. you want something to drink?”

eddie shakes his head and then follows steve into the next room, which is filled with a big, squishy looking couch. steve practically throws himself down onto the middle cushion. eddie sits as close to the arm of the couch as possible.

“how’d you do on o’donnell’s test today?” steve asks, a crooked grin on his face. “i feel like she might be writing them to torture me specifically.”

“eh, i don’t think it was too bad.” eddie tries to say it in a way that puts an end to the conversation, not really interested in making small talk.

“yeah, well. you’re, like, really good at english.”

“what?” eddie looks over, surprised.

“i mean, i can tell. when you talk in class?” steve looks a bit confused, like he doesn’t know why eddie’s so surprised. “you notice things i wouldn’t have ever even thought about.”

“oh. i don’t know about that. i just say stuff that seems obvious.”

steve snorts. “yeah, obvious to you. it’s cool, you know. how smart you are. i wish i could think like you.”

“you’re smart.”

steve just smiles then, shaking his head a little. just then, wayne comes into the doorway that leads from the kitchen into the den they’re sitting in.

“all right, fellas? i’m all done in here, steve.”

“okay, thanks, mr. munson.”

eddie stands, wiping his hands down the front of his jeans.

“well, see ya,” he says to steve, turning to follow wayne out toward the front door.

steve follows. “hey, maybe you could come a little earlier next week and we could talk about the next quiz?”

eddie looks back at steve. if eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say steve looked almost hopeful.

“uh, yeah, maybe.”

steve smiles. “okay, cool.”

~*~

“you know, steve’s a pretty good kid,” wayne says out of the blue halfway through their drive home.

eddie gives a vaguely positive-sounding grunt in return.

“he could use some friends, i think. he has a tough time.”

“steve?” eddie turns from where he’s focused on the road in front of him to look at wayne in surprise.

“his parents… well, it’s not my thing to tell, but. he’s alone a lot. lonely. you could be nice to him.”

“i’m always nice to him,” eddie grumbles.

“i know, son, but you know what i mean. you remember how you were when you first came to me. isolated. remember how good it felt when you met gareth and finally had a friend to talk to at school?”

“steve has friends,” eddie insists.

wayne sighs. “just think about it, okay?”

“sure.” eddie will do no such thing.

~*~

eddie’s right. steve does have friends. he has people he talks to at school, he has his basketball teammates and his lunchmates, he has the swim team.

but wayne’s also right, because if eddie looks a bit closer, he notices how steve walks home from school alone. how every week when eddie comes to pick wayne up from his maintenance work at the harrington house, steve always answers the door and he’s never seen a trace of his parents there. how steve sits at the diner alone on weekends, struggling through his homework.

~*~

the next week, eddie shows up an hour early to the harringtons’ to pick up wayne. when he rings the doorbell, it takes about two minutes for steve to let him in.

“oh,” steve says surprised. “hi? i think wayne’s still working out back.” he glances down at his watch.

“no, yeah.” eddie rubs at the back of his neck. “you mentioned talking about the next quiz last time?” he holds up the worn paperback he’s been holding at his side.

steve smiles, wide and bright. “cool.”

he leads eddie into the same room they’d sat in last time, flopping down on to the cushions again. eddie takes the same position up against the couch’s arm. he can see steve’s school things spread across the coffee table, papers covered in barely legible chicken scratch.

“you weren’t in lunch today,” steve says, matter-of-factly.

“uh, no. we do hellfire on wednesdays.”

“thats that game, right?” steve sounds genuinely curious.

“yeah, dnd.”

“what’s it about?”

“what do you mean?”

“how do you play?”

“steve harrington wants to know how to play dungeons and dragons?” eddie sounds a little incredulous, even to his own ears.

steve smiles, a bit smaller than he had at his front door. “yeah, man. you’re into it, right? that’s kind of cool.”

eddie snorts. “i don’t know that anyone has ever been called cool for playing dnd before.”

“you care about it. a lot. that’s cool.”

eddie clears his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. he shifts where he sits.

“or we could talk about the book,” steve says softly.

“yeah, let’s… do that.”

~*~

they’re finishing up work on steve’s review sheet when wayne comes in through the kitchen.

“it’s all cleared up out there, steve,” he calls as he moves to wash his hands in the kitchen sink.

“okay, thanks, mr. munson. i’ll let my parents know.” steve stands from where he’s been sitting and stretches before walking into the kitchen. eddie follows him.

wayne smiles when he sees them. “didn’t know you were here already.”

“yeah,” eddie replies. “just working on some homework.”

“he was helping me understand the book we’re reading in class,” steve adds. “i don’t get it at all, but eddie’s really good at it.”

“that so,” wayne says, drying his hands.

“yeah, you should hear him in class. it’s pretty impressive.”

eddie can feel himself blushing.

~*~

“that was a nice thing you did, kid,” wayne tells him once they’re in eddie’s van. “real nice.”

“just doing homework. easier to do it together than alone, i guess.” eddie shrugs.

“sure.”

~*~

it becomes a regular thing. eddie shows up about an hour early every wednesday and helps steve with his english homework.

“this is really cool of you, man,” steve says after a few weeks.

“everything’s so cool to you, harrington,” eddie smiles, laughing a little. steve pushes at his shoulder, laughing along.

“no, i mean,” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i know people at school think i’m annoying or whatever—”

“i don’t think anyone thinks that.”

steve gives him a look. “i’m not very smart and i ask dumb questions in class. i can hear people sighing when i raise my hand.”

he has a point about the questions. “it’s not a crime to ask a question, steve. how else would you learn,” eddie says anyway.

“well, whatever. i’ve had tutors before but they’ve all kind of—quit or whatever. i can be… frustrating.”

“you’re not frustrating. you just learn differently. that’s not a bad thing. you are smart.” eddie sees the skeptical look still on steve’s face. “and anyway, i’m not your tutor.”

“you’re not?”

“no. i like you, steve. we’re friends.”

steve smiles.

~*~

it’s not that steve harrington himself is a bully. he’s not. he’s nice, actually. eddie has never even seen him so much as surreptitiously trip some poor nerd in the hawkins high hallways.

but he holds a space in the collective hellfire imagination onto which they can project their own high school feelings of inferiority.

steve is good looking. he comes from a good family. he has a lot of money and his clothes are always clean and new. he’s well-fed and girls love him. he somehow skates through all his classes. he is everything that nerdy outcasts hate.

so eddie doesn’t tell his friends about the budding friendship between him and steve. he doesn’t tell them that every week when they ask him to go get milkshakes or to come play video games or to catch a movie that what he’s really doing when he lies to them and tells them he has plans with wayne is spending time with steve.

his friends can’t know. he’s gone on enough tirades against the capitalist jock class that he’d look like a total hypocrite to be hanging out with their de facto king. he’s not sure he’d survive them finding out.

~*~

“did you mean it?” steve asks the following week.

“hm?” eddie doesn’t look up from the page he’s reading.

“when you said you liked me. did you mean that?”

eddie looks up in surprise. “of course i did.”

steve smiles. “good. because i like you too.”

“yeah?” eddie returns his smile.

steve nods, moving a bit closer on the big squishy couch. “but, um. i’m not sure if we mean it the same way.”

eddie swallows. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, i might like you as more than a friend.”

eddie laughs. “why?” he doesn’t mean to say it. it just comes out.

steve doesn’t laugh though. “you’re smart. you think about things in ways that other people don’t. you care about the things that are important to you, even when other people might think they’re stupid. you’re nice to me when you don’t have to be.” steve’s closer now. “have you ever kissed anyone before?” eddie nods. “i haven’t. only in those stupid games. not for real.”

eddie looks into steve’s eyes. he looks hopeful. eddie swallows again.

“okay…” eddie’s still not sure where this is going. he could take a wild guess, but things don’t usually go the way he hopes.

“would you…” steve bites his bottom lip. “i know i’m—would you want to? kiss me, i mean.”

eddie takes a deep breath and then nods before closing the distance between them, so much smaller now than when they’d first sat down.

steve’s lips are warm against his. the kiss is more chaste than anything, short and sweet before they break apart.

“oh,” steve whispers with his eyes still closed. he licks his lips. “that was—” he opens his eyes, smiling at eddie. “that was really nice.”

“yeah.” eddie doesn’t take his eyes from steve’s lips.

“do you want to—”

eddie’s lips are back on steve’s before he can even finish his question.

~*~

they break apart when they hear wayne coming in through the back door of the kitchen.

steve’s breathing slightly heavier than usual, smiling up at eddie.

eddie tries to smile back, but the reminder of the world around them brought on by wayne’s presence in the house with them has his gut roiling. he’s not sure what shows on his face, but he can see the worry as it creeps onto steve’s face.

“is this—was this okay? are you okay?” steve asks.

“yeah,” eddie replies, trying again for a smile. he thinks he’s a bit more successful this time. “just, uh. this was really fun but. can we…”

“can we?” steve prompts when eddie trails off.

“let’s just keep it to ourselves, yeah? like, don’t tell anyone at school.”

eddie regrets it the minute he says it. steve’s eyes shutter as he watches.

“oh, right. obviously. like anyone would believe me anyway,” steve laughs, but it doesn’t sound quite right.

they’re sitting upright on the couch again when wayne comes into the doorway.

“all set, ed?”

eddie gathers his school bag.

“see you next week, steve,” he says, and follows wayne out of the house.

to be continued perhaps… (no taglists, sorry)

#steddie normal people au #i guess!!!!!#steddie #steddie au #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie blurb #edited to add a title so it’s easier for following parts

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webslingingslasher · 2 years

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Something in the Orange

Part one.

Part two will be coming soon.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: angst, angst, angst.

Warnings: SAD, also talk of sex.

Word count: 10.5K

Summary: Peter did the worst thing he could've done to you, broke your heart.

Peter Parker knew you hated him.

He knew because you stopped speaking to him, not that he expected to stay best friends but to totally cut all communication was something he wasn’t ready for. And you iced him out entirely, not that he was expecting to stay attached to the hip but to ignore his entire existence was hurtful, you wouldn’t even make eye contact. If you were somehow alone in a room you would act like you were by yourself, not even thinking to acknowledge him.

Peter Parker knew you hated him and he knew he couldn’t make it right.

He thinks a lot about that night, and suddenly his reasoning went out the window. He can’t remember why he did what he did, how he could hurt you like that. It wasn’t him, he wasn’t that kind of guy, as he wanted to believe. But he was, he was the guy that hurt you, and he did do that to you. And he can’t even remember why.

“She fucking hates me.”

Peter dropped his backpack on the lunch table, his science book producing a thud where it landed. He dropped his weight on the plastic chair and hissed when the plastic pinched his back, he turned to see a crack up the seat of the chair and grumbled.

“She hates me and wants me dead.”

Peter was looking at the faces of his lunchmates, Ned and MJ. Ned, for once kept his mouth shut, that's his way of telling Peter he got what he deserved, Ned told him this a million times before. Peter was annoyed at first but then started to appreciate his words, he would imagine it was you saying it to him. MJ rolled her eyes and continued to eat her peach, “She doesn’t hate you. She’s hurt and trying to make you hurt the same way.”

Peter huffed at her. “Then it’s working. I’m torn up inside and she’s acting like I don’t exist, after chem I waved at her and she just kept walking like she didn’t see or hear me.” He leaned an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand. “I just wish she would look at me, or talk to me.”

“You fucking dumped her out of nowhere Peter, and for a shit reason. You’re lucky she’s not being worse to you. She should be.” Ned stood from the table with his bag and left, not even looking at Peter a second time. Peter was like a guppy, pursing his lips and stopping. He had no words to fight the statement, not that it mattered, Ned was long gone.

Peter’s eyes moved to MJ, he was hoping for some sympathy at least. Maybe some words of wisdom but she just hummed like she was agreeing with Ned. If they were your kids they would choose you in the divorce, they kind of did, but you refused to talk to them either. They were Peter’s friends first, and they reminded you too much of him.

“You know it was for a good reason right?” He hoped MJ would at least agree to that, that all this was for something. Instead, she shrugged, “I think you think it was for a good reason.” Peter looked at his backpack and sighed, his fingers coming to play at the bracelet you hooked around his zipper pocket so you could spot him better in the crowded hallways. He couldn’t imagine tearing it off, not like you did when he broke up with you. He understands what he did, but he wasn’t prepared for how serious you were going to take it. How you left a box of all his shit on the stoop outside his apartment, how he saw each photo and sweatshirt you've taken, even his spare clothes he stashed at yours were crumpled in the box. He counted each item, he noticed you didn’t keep a single one. You had washed him from you entirely.

Peter wasn’t hungry, all he kept thinking about was that night.

“Y/N, I think we should break up.” He watched as you continued to make your bed.

“Real funny, Parker.” You lent forward, smoothing out a corner.

“I’m not joking.”

His words bounced in your head. He said he would never do this.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. But, I think we need to.” Peter was looking at the ground playing with his sleeve. He couldn’t even look at you right now.

“No. I don’t want to break up.” You shook your head, where was this coming from?

“Please, just do-”

“We can still be friends.” He cut you off.

You scoffed, offended at his words.

“No. If you’re not my boyfriend you’re nothing to me. How am I supposed to forget how you loved me? How you kiss me after a bad day? How you always let me lay on you no matter how uncomfortable you are, the way our hands fit perfectly?”

You paused and took a breath, tears gathered in your eyes.

“You are breaking my heart right now Peter Parker. Do you understand that?” Your words cracked, your tears ran, and you tilted your head at him. How could he do this?

“I do.” He sighed, he held his hands, his thumb tapping against the other.

He listened to you whimper, he listened as he broke your heart.

“I’m sorry, but I have to.”

You sniffled and stood straighter, you wiped your tears away and refused to let more fall. If he was doing this to you then so would you. You were about to forget he ever existed.

“Get out of my room.”

Your words were venom. Peter had never heard you speak like that to anyone let alone him, it almost scared him. You sounded aggressive, almost like you were about to punch him. He knew he hurt you but he didn’t want to leave on these terms, he still loved you no matter what he had done.

“Y/N.” He tried to talk, he tried to explain, he tried to say sorry again.

“Get the fuck out Peter!” You screamed at him so loudly he winced, he never liked to be yelled at, it always sent his senses into overdrive.

“I just-”

You stalked towards him and placed a hand on his chest and pushed until he was out of your room. When he was in the doorway you looked at him with disgust, like you didn’t recognize who he was.

“Get the fuck out and never talk to me again.”

You went to slam the door in his face but stopped. He was hoping you would hear him out, and let him explain to you why he did this. But with every ounce of hurt in your body, you directed at him three words he never ever wanted to hear from you.

“I hate you.”

And the door slammed in his face so hard the walls shook.

Peter pulled himself from the memory and frowned. He wishes he could take it all back and just talk to you. He was looking at the clock, just a few more minutes and lunch would end and he would be in English looking at you slumped over a desk. You stopped participating in school, didn’t do homework, failed tests, skipped class, and fought with teachers when they tried to help or bring up your issues. You started hanging with Colton and Francis, who were not good people at all, they were dragging you down.

The second the bell rang he sped to class leaving MJ behind, she would trail in with thirty seconds left in the passing period and join him at their table. His leg bounced and waited for you to come in, but you didn’t. Not until halfway through did you stumble in with Colton, both of you giggling. Your lunch was getting high in his van with him and Francis and then getting food off campus while Francis sucked Colton’s face.

Peter could smell the pot on you and he was sure everyone else could. You reeked. And you never smoked before, but now with your new friends, it was a favorite pastime. The teacher sighed and stopped the class, “Nice of you to join us, Y/N. Will you be participating today or are we getting another zero?” You scoffed at her remark, “I don’t know, are you going to be a raging bitch today or is that a rhetorical question? The class oohed, and your teacher slammed her hand on her desk.

“Out! Out of my classroom and don’t come back!”

You rolled your eyes, “The dramatics, teach. Chill out, you need to get laid.” The class was in an uproar, all of them hitting their fist on the desk. The teacher picked up her textbook and slammed it on her desk, the sound making everyone stop immediately. “This is not you, Y/N. I don’t know who you’re trying to be but it’s not working.”

“You know what’s not working teach? Your husband's cock.” You smirked at her reaction, the shock and horror spilling across her face, the way her cheeks lit up.

“Get out!” She screamed so loudly you were sure the rooms around this one stopped for a second. “Get out, get out, get out! I better see you in the office or I swear to God.”

You tugged on Colton's jacket, leading him out the door with you. “Better start swearing.”

Peter watched as you backed out of the classroom and as Mrs. Bender breathed harshly, he shared a look with MJ. She shook her head in disappointment, this wasn’t you, the teacher was right. Peter stayed silent and started working, it wasn’t his job to chase after you and ask what the hell that was, he wasn’t even sure that if he had tried you wouldn’t pretend you couldn’t hear him.

“Y/N got suspended for three days.”

Ned dropped his backpack by Peter’s bedroom door and worked his way over to rest on his bed. He looked over the back of the lego set he brought over before opening the cardboard and pulling out the separated packs.

“She did?”

Peter couldn’t believe it, you’d never gotten suspended before. He wanted to text you, he looked at his phone and bit his lip. Ned pulled him from his thoughts, “Yup. Brandon Quill posted it on his story, apparently, she’s at Katie Perez’s party and is getting hammered.

Peter was double worried, you were suspended from school and now you were getting drunk at a house party talking to people you always told him you hated. He looked at Ned unfolding the instructions, he pulled the thick board Peter kept by his desk for building the sets on a more sturdy surface.

Against better judgment, he picked up his phone to open his message thread with you. He’s scrolled through the messages a few times, pretending he was still sending and receiving sweet nothings with you. He noticed the last text in the chat was him telling you he was on his way, that was the day he ended things. It’s been a long three months.

‘Are you okay?’

He deleted the text.

‘Are you doing alright?’

He deleted that one too.

“You good, man? Am I doing this alone?”

Peter looked up at Ned, he held out a bag of parts for a side section. Peter looked at his phone once more, he settled on a “Hi.” He held his breath and pushed send. He smiled at Ned and grabbed the bag and started to work.

Ten minutes in he looked at his phone and saw nothing.

Fifteen minutes in he checked to see if his phone’s sound was on.

Thirty minutes in he checked again, maybe it didn’t buzz. Ned asked if he had other plans and if he was intruding.

“Uh, no. I uh, I texted her.”

“Y/N, I mean.” He added quickly.

Ned's eyebrows raised, they almost disappeared under his fringe.

“You did?”

Peter nodded. “I did.”

“You did.”

“Yeah. I did.”

“Why?”

“I…. I don’t know.”

Ned put the legos down.

“You don’t know?”

“No. I don’t know anything, Ned.”

“Go on?”

“I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know why I hurt her. I don’t know why I can't move on even though I'm the one that did this.”

“Peter, you know why.” Ned knew Peter knew he thought it was stupid but Peter genunally believed it was for the right reason. No use in trying to backtrack now, it wouldn’t work for him.

“I do.” He nodded his head and swallowed.

“I do, and I really wish I could take it back. I just…acted too fast. I needed to talk to her, hear her out. But… I just left.”

Peter sniffled and tried to blink back tears. It wasn’t manly to cry to your best friend, especially one that wouldn’t show sympathy, one that thought he deserved all he was getting and more.

But Ned wasn’t evil, he loved his friend more than anything. And Peter wasn’t just upset he was being ignored he was upset at himself for his own actions and that meant more to Ned than anything else in the moment. He pushed himself off the bed and held an arm out to Peter at his desk, Peter looked at his hand and gave a confused face but let Ned pull him up anyways.

Ned held one of Peter's hands in his own and placed the other on his shoulder, he looked into his eyes and spoke earnestly. “She’s acting like this because she still loves you and doesn’t want to. She wants to hate you so badly she acts like she does, but if she really did she wouldn’t have to try so hard to do it. You’ll get her back man, you broke it but you’re the only one who can fix it too.”

Peter nodded and looked away when tears were about to fall, Ned just pulled him in for a hug and held him tightly. Peter slowly broke down and cried in his friend's arms for minutes, Ned didn’t say one word, didn’t comfort him, or tried to stop him. He let Peter express his emotions in total sincerity. He just held his friend tightly, Peter gave so much of himself to everyone else, and right now he just needed someone, and Ned was always there.

Ned was Peter’s true best friend. He wasn’t scared to call him out on his bullshit but stayed and stood by him when he needed to. Ned has the kind of heart Peter wishes he had, he was full of compassion and patience, and understanding, Peter didn’t understand how a person could have that much optimism at the world. It was Ned’s superpower.

“I’m scared I fucked it up too much. I think there’s no coming back from this.” He sniffled on his friend's shoulder. Ned rubbed up and down his back, Peter would’ve shoved him off any other time, but right now he closed his eyes and thought about how long it’s been since you touched him like that.

“I don’t think you did. I think if you were able to do this in front of her, to be honest I mean, you would get her back.” Ned squeezed his friend tighter in his hold.

Peter pulled back and looked at his friend, “You mean it? MJ will tell me if you’re lying.” He tested his friends' words, Ned squeezed his shoulders before pulling back entirely. “I mean it.”

Peter rubbed his nose and let out a breath of air.

“Okay. I’m good.”

Peter and Ned shared a look, one that said ‘I’m sorry and ‘Thank you’ and Ned said ‘Sorry for what?’ and ‘That’s what best friends are for’ and the last one was from both of them, ‘I love you, man.’

The rest of the night they worked in unison, one handing a part to another without needing to ask. Ned pieced the last part together, he high-fived Peter and asked if he could keep this one because he bought it and because Peter kept the last three.

Peter looked at his phone once more, you haven’t even read it. He assumes his number is blocked.

“Later man, my grandma is outside.”

Peter lent out his hand for their handshake at the end Peter held on to his friend's hand for a moment longer.

“Actually, can I come and say hi? I need some air.”

“Of course, dude. You know granny loves you. She always asks where my white friend is.”

Peter slowly walked his way up the stairs after saying goodbye to Ned and saying hi, goodbye to his grandma. He was afraid to be alone tonight, he would’ve asked Ned to stay if he hadn’t thought about it after his ride was already on the way. May was at work and his thoughts weren’t going to leave him alone tonight. He assumes Spider-Man will be out late tonight.

He stops at the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water and chugs it. He looks at the leftover pizza and thinks about grabbing a piece but it was the last two slices and it was May's favorite. She deserved her favorite meal after working all night, so he decided to leave it.

Instead, he thinks about getting something later as Spidey. He didn’t use it to his advantage too often but he usually got free food as his alter ego and if he was going to get something for free he usually chose the nicer places. Good free food the real him couldn’t afford? Yes, please.

Peter went into his room where he would finish up some homework, then he would probably visit Pornhub and then go out and fight some crime. He pressed on his phone’s screen, hand already traveling to his waistband on instinct. Until his hand stopped moving and he stopped breathing. He stared into the blue light radiating off his phone, he blinked three times as if he was imagining the notification.

You texted back.

“Hi.”

He tapped on the notification, he was trying to think of what he should say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead, he wasn’t expecting a response. He was tapping his thumbs on the side of his phone, his hands ready to type but before a response came to him your face popped up on his phone.

He smiled involuntarily when he saw the contact photo. You were in a hoodie of his, it was winter outside and he could see the snow on the ground. You were pressed against the brick building of his apartment, he remembers walking up on you and snapping a pic at how happy you were to see him coming your way.

He was so lost in his flashback he almost forgot you were calling him. And, wanted to speak to him for the first time in three months.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Peter!”

Your voice sent a smile to his face. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this calm, this at peace.

“Hi, Y/N.” His voice was a smile.

“Were you thinking about me just now? I had a feeling.”

He looked at his hand near his boxers and brought it to his chest.

“Do you always have that feeling? Because I always am.”

Was he flirting with you right now?

“Only when I’m not constantly trying to ignore it.”

He imagined you rolling your eyes at him.

“Careful, I might think you like me.”

You were silent for a moment, then you spoke quietly.

“Like you? I loved you.”

Loved? That hurt. A lot.

“I-“

You cut him off.

“What are you doing right now?”

Peter paused, he’s thinking it might be an invitation.

“Nothing. Waiting on your call, I’ve been waiting for months actually. I think I’m getting bed sores.”

His heart lifted when you laughed, the sound making him feel free inside. How could a sound make him feel so weightless?

“Do you want to come pick me up?”

You rephrase the question immediately.

“Will you come get me?”

Peter's breath hitched. You wanted to see him, you wanted to speak to him in person. You wanted him.

“Yes, yeah. I’ll come right now. Drop me a pin, okay?”

He waited for your okay and current location to be sent to him. Your text was immediate, he jumped from the bed and grabbed his phone and wallet before leaving the building.

Peter wasn’t a party person. He hated them, you liked them. You would usually go out on a Friday or Saturday evening and hang with some friends, usually, you just stuck in the corner and people-watched and stayed a DD for your friend group. He heard you had gotten drunk tonight but you weren’t slurring your words on the phone, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you drunk. Tipsy, yes, but you didn’t like to drink too much. You sipped on a beer or two during the night to keep everyone from trying to hand you shots and strong liquor but stayed sober to drive everyone home at night.

He had texted you when he arrived but you didn’t respond, he tried calling but you didn’t pick up. He would check your location to see if you were still here but you turned that off months ago. Breakup or not he wishes you kept it on for him, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

Peter sighed when he realized when he would have to go in to look for you. He then was a little relieved you weren’t waiting for him outside, it was cold and dark and only a few stragglers were outside. He was glad he had his flannel on then, he would get to see you in his clothes once more.

Peter prepared himself for the loud music and crowd and pushed open the oak door.

“Tequila shots in the kitchen!”

Someone shouted and a few kids cheered. One kid came up behind Peter and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Tequila shots, man!” He tried to steer him into the kitchen but he shook off the hand and stepped out of his path.

Peter's eyes shot around the room, he closed his eyes and focused on his heartbeat. He was searching for your voice, he ran over all the conversations until-

“Wait, wait, wait. Peter’s picking you up?”

He couldn’t place the voice, it was familiar for sure. Maybe it was Francis, no, Drea? Maybe it was Karissa?

He heard you hum, your mouth was full. The group was either smoking or drinking.

“Yes, don’t judge me.”

A few laughs from the group.

“No judgment here, but we won’t let you live this down when you’re sober. You can’t say you hate him and how evil he is and then turn around and beg to be with him when you have a few drinks in you.”

This one was for sure Francis, he could recognize her shrill voice from anywhere.

“Oi! Not my fault he has the best dick game in town. I miss getting fucked by him more than anything.” You laughed at the end with the girls.

Nice to know you had missed him in that way. Usually when a breakup happens the first words to fly out the mouth were “his dick was small and trash.”

“It went out, pass the lighter.”

He didn’t know who that one was, it was a guy.

“Wait a minute, Y/N. Is this your first ex-hookup?”

“What other ex do I have?”

Peter smiled at that one, he was your only.

Francis giggled.

“I mean there was Nat-“

You gagged.

“Stop! I tainted my body with that. Fuck you all, by the way. Why did you let me do that?”

Peter frowned. He didn’t know you hooked up with someone else, you had the right but he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous knowing someone touched you the way he did.

“I don’t know if it counts as sex when you think of your ex the whole time.” It was that guy again.

“Peter’s just so good though! The entire time I just kept thinking ‘this has to be a joke.’” You laughed at the grittiness of the memory.

Peter had a boosted ego at this point. You may have hated him but had to admit how good he was in the sack.

You coughed and spoke again.

“Do you think we will get back together?”

Peter’s breath stopped. You were asking?

“Be honest! I promise I won’t be mad.”

“Are you asking if you have a chance?” It was Karissa, or Drea.

“I’m asking if he has a chance.”

Peter nodded but stopped when he realized he was in the middle of a room.

“With you? Yeah. Yeah, I think you always left the door a little open for him no matter how much you swear you slammed it.” Karissa answered the question.

“Plus if you were really over him you would have different hair by now. Everyone knows when you’re really over a guy you change your hair.” Drea? Added.

“I say no. I mean, if he does I don’t have a chance to hit.” The guy laughed but no one joined.

“Bro. Who even are you?”

“I’m the one who brought the joint over, remember?” He responded back to you.

“Yeah, and? I don’t fuck for free.” You laughed in his face.

The group went quiet, you raised a hand to shoo him off.

“Go on now. Bye.”

Peter thinks it’s time to find you now.

He spots you outside, you were standing with who he had assumed. Karissa, Drea and Francis. When he was approaching you he noticed a dude giving him the side eye, he imagined he was the one that was trying to ‘hit it.’

He soaked in your appearance, and how cute you looked. He was used to seeing you in dark clothing that covered your body at school, he always thought you were beautiful but tonight your legs were on show and you had on that bracelet he gifted you for your one-year anniversary. He’s happy to know you kept it and still wore it.

He snuck up behind you, he would’ve grabbed you if he thought he could. He lent his mouth against your ear, your friends noticing him with raised eyebrows but staying silent.

“Boo.”

You jumped and spun, a wide smile covering your face.

“Boo to you too!”

You opened your arms and made grabby hands. You always asked him for a hug that way. It had been months but you still replayed the moments in your relationship like they never stopped.

He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. He’s not ashamed to admit he stole a sniff of your hair, he’s missed you wrapped around him more than he could ever put in words. Your touch alone made him buzz, he forgot how much his senses dialed up around you. He felt you pressed into him, he could feel your chest moving against him with your breaths, which he never noticed before. How had he taken those moments for granted?

He’d ask if you missed him but he thinks that would push you back into reality. He knows sober you wouldn’t be allowing yourself this, he was selfish to keep you away from your current morals. But he needed this too bad, needed you too bad.

You pulled away from him and he felt cold. He didn’t realize how warm you made him until you left his hold.

“I forgot how good you smell.”

You smiled at him and fixed his flannel collar. You glanced over the shirt, it was your favorite. You don’t think you ever told him that.

“This is my favorite shirt on you. Did I ever tell you that?”

He brushed some hair behind your ear.

“Mhmm, don’t think so. Good to know, I think the universe made me wear it today. Must have known you’d be calling me later.”

You opened your mouth, and Peter swore to every higher power you were about to say ‘I love you.’ He just knew. You had that look on your face. Instead, you shut it, you started again. “Do you want to hang around for a minute or leave? I know this isn’t your scene.” You moved to wrap yourself against his side, a permanent side hug.

Peter wanted to leave, god he wanted to go. It sucked, he was getting stared down by a random dude. The songs sucked, and the flashing lights inside made his head hurt instantly. But, god. You looked at him like he made your sun rise and set, and you looked so pretty and he missed you so much he would saw off his own hand for just a minute longer with you.

He thought about his next action carefully. He knew it may make you finally push him away but did it anyway.

He lent down to place a kiss on the top of your head. He was the one that hurt you and right now he was using you to make himself feel better. He wasn’t being a good guy.

You pushed your head up to hold his mouth there, warm flowed from your scalp to your toes. Goosebumps took place on your arms. You hated how much control he had over you.

“We can chill for a minute. Don’t wanna interrupt your hangout.” He looked towards your friends, fawning at your interaction.

“You sure?”

The way you looked at him, searching for his comfort level. No matter what Peter said if you felt an inkling of him wanting to leave you would. Peter felt like he couldn’t breathe, you were looking over him searching for clues you still knew he hid. He brought his head down subtly, he almost leaned in to kiss you. He forgot what he did for a moment and pulled himself back up.

You looked at him with raised eyebrows and grinned. The look alone let him know you caught him, and he wonders if you would’ve let him kiss you.

“Positive.” He leaned forward to kiss you on the cheek, he forgot how smooth the surface was. How his lips puckered perfectly on the skin, almost like it was indented to fit him. You lent into him and let him hold there for a moment before you squeezed at his waist and he pulled away.

“Mind being the best ex-boyfriend and getting me a refill?” You held up the plastic cup in your hand and shook it. Peter felt like he was sucker punched in his gut at your words, he knew he dumped you but hearing you call him your ex-boyfriend made him want to cry. He was proud to wear the boyfriend title, he was ashamed of the ex before it.

He grabbed the cup from your hand and gave a tight lip smile, he looked at the party inside and groaned internally. The last thing he wanted to do was go into the crowded kitchen and pour you a drink. But, it was for you. And he wanted to show that he would do anything for you.

“Of course, anything else?” He pointed at your friends, “You guys want anything?” They all cheered and pushed their cups at him.

“Vodka cranberry!” Francis’ plastic bent against his chest with the force she pushed at him.

“Malibu with pineapple juice, please.” Drea waited for him to grab hers.

“Rum and coke, use the Captain Morgan’s if they still have some in there!” Karissa requested, then batted her eyelashes at him. “Please?”

He nodded his head at your friends and looked towards you for your request, he assumed you were drinking liquor tonight, you were missing your usual Blue Moon beer bottle.

“Vodka Redbull, please sir.”

“Got it. Four glasses of water coming up.” He winked at the group and turned to leave. You slapped him on the arm, “Thanks babe!” and moved in to talk with your friends.

His knees shook the whole way up the stairs. He never thought you would call him that again, it was a pet name, the most common one but it was the one you gave him. He was playing at your level, he wanted nothing more than to spin you around the patio but he didn’t deserve to do that. If you wanted him back he would never leave again.

Peter quickly set the cups down at the counter and moved in accordance with the liquors. Vodka first, then rum. He moved his fingers in a flutter motion looking for the cranberry and pineapple juice. He cracked the can of Redbull and poured half, he made yours a little weaker than he thinks you would’ve.

He was about to juggle the cups on his way out the door, four plastic cups and a can was straining his hold. If no one was around and he could get away with it he would’ve webbed them together. He was just about to pick up the third cup when a voice came behind him.

“You don’t deserve her, you know what right?”

He whipped his head around, it was the guy that was staring him down when he first arrived. His assumption was right, that was the guy who wanted to fuck you.

“I’m sorry?” Peter was confused, who was this guy and why did he think he got a say in anything you or he did?

“She just wants to fuck you. You know that right? She doesn’t want to get back together or anything.” His words were bitter, he didn’t know Peter heard their entire conversation and knows that he does have a shot of getting back together.

“Right…” He trailed off and looked to his left side at the back door. He wasn’t about to give this random guy the opportunity to make him feel less than. He did that enough on his own.

Peter moved to the side and picked up the remaining cups. The guy moved in front of him once more, Peter wanted to push the guy away. He was getting annoyed at the interaction.

“I mean it. You don’t have a chance.” He went to place a hand on Peter’s shoulder and he moved his body backward, he didn’t want this guy touching him at all.

“Look man, it sounds like you're jealous of me.”

The guy pshhed at Peter.

“Of you? Yeah, you wish.” He looked Peter up and down, sizing him up.

“The way I see it, you’re mad you tried to hook up and she rejected you. Now, you’re extra pissed at the guy that she’s been raging about for months, the guy she hates, is the one she called to pick her up.”

Peter nodded at the guy and moved to go around him, this time he pushed Peter by the shoulder into the counter.

“Her? She’s a fucking whore, she’ll let anyone fuck her.” He spat the words at Peter, he was looking for a fight. Peter didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He laughed instead, like he was a world-class comedian.

“But not anyone, right?” He looked over the guy and pouted. His sarcastic sympathy made the guy want to punch him.

“You’re a pussy. She’s gonna sober up and wonder why she called you and not me.”

“You’re trying really hard here dude. Get this, I’m the one that dumped her and I’m the one that gets to take her home tonight and fuck her. That makes you real mad huh?”

Peter would never speak about you like that normally. Even he was disgusted when the words came out of his mouth, but this guy was talking shit about you up and down while also trying to fuck you. It was sending Peter for a loop, did he want to fuck you or not?

Peter finally maneuvered his way past him, he was able to leave the house and trek down the garden steps. He walked in on a story you were telling your friends, moving your arms and smiling when your audience laughed at the right parts.

“And he goes-“ Even you had to pause to giggle.

“He goes, ‘Baby, have you seen the new Cats trailer yet? It’s given me nightmares for the past week. I don’t even know how.’”

The group laughs and when he walks up you “ooh” at him and tap on his arm. He handed each girl their cup and took yours from between his teeth, his other hand had the half Redbull, he would sip on that while you chat.

“Remember that, Pete? The Cats' nightmares?”

You giggled when he groaned, he would never get tired of that sound. No matter how crowded the room was he could always recognize it anywhere.

“Oh yeah. You had to wake me up one night because I was screaming at James Corden to back up.”

Your eyes lit up, you tapped him a few more times on his arm in remembrance. “That’s right! You couldn’t get back to sleep so we had-“ You stopped your sentence. He knew what you were going to say, he couldn’t fall back asleep so you both had three am sex. It was some of the best sex you’ve had, you both agreed.

“Had chocolate cake?” He finished for you.

“Was that it? I could've sworn it was better than that.” You shared a look with him, he missed that. He missed the hidden inside jokes you both had, the kind of secrets you only had with a lover.

You held out your cup to him, “Quality control. You need to make sure it’s not poisoned.”

His heart stuttered. That was his thing.

No matter what it was, a fry, a drink, a sandwich he always took a taste before you did. He always said he was quality control, and needed to make sure it was safe for you to ingest. A small joke that you always looked forward to, something you could count on from him.

He grinned and took the cup from you and took a sip. He pulled the cup back and handed it back to you with a shudder. “It’s vodka alright.”

You looked at your friend group and started to chat.

“There was also this one time Peter called me and was freaking out because there was a snake in his room. He lives on like, the seventh-floor mind you. We still don’t know how it got there.” You elbowed him to add to the story, he was still reeling from the ‘we.’

“Yup. And she was making fun of me because-“ Peter was cut short and stumbled forwards with force. The girls in front of him gasped and you pulled his arm into yours to hold him to your side, you were protecting him in an instant.

“Fuck you!”

It was the guy from the kitchen. He had shoved Peters back and almost made him fall into Drea. Peter went to move out of the way knowing he was about to get shoved again but knew it would result in Drea getting laid out flat. He braced himself for the movement again.

“I said fuck you!” He pushed harder.

Peter pulled away from you, he wasn’t about to let you get caught in the crossfire.

“Fuck off man.” Peter wouldn’t warn him again, dude could push him all he wanted but if he started swinging Peter would finish the fight.

The guy was about to push at Peter's chest until you stepped forward.

“Cut it out, Jason!”

The guy stumbled for a minute.

“It’s Tyler.”

You shook your head at him with pinched eyebrows. You held your hands like ‘okay, and?’

“Jason, Tyler, Cody, Brian. Doesn’t matter. Hands off.”

“He’s not even your boyfriend. He’s your ex. You’ve made that very clear.” Tyler spat the words at you, glaring at Peter.

“Yours. Do you hear that? Mine. He’s mine. Hands off, or I swear he’s gonna hurt you.” You warned the perpetrator, he didn’t know the damage Peter could do.

“Fuck you. You’re a fucking whore. Good luck getting used, he only sees you as a loose hole.” He spat on the ground in front of you.

Peter straightened. He wasn’t the fight over a girl type but he wanted to murder this fucking guy. But, he also didn’t want to make you embarrassed. He waited on your call.

“Peter.”

He looked towards you, waiting for the direction.

You narrowed your eyes at Tyler, you made a slight growl at his words. He was mean, and Peter knew you hated mean people.

“Lay him the fuck out.”

Peter nodded and placed a hand on Tyler’s chest. In one motion he slammed him to the ground and listened as he begged his body to breathe. He didn’t seriously hurt him, just knocked the air out of him. Maybe bruised his tailbone a bit too, just so he would remember this for a few days.

You looked towards your drink, you only had a little left.

“Can we leave after this?” You were much quieter than you were earlier.

Peter leaned in to kiss your forehead, “Of course.”

You leaned forward to say goodbye to your friends at the back gate. Each of you had stepped over Tyler’s body still searching for air. Peter placed a hand on the small of your back when you stepped over the waist of the man on the floor.

“Bye Drea, bye Francis, bye Karissa! I’ll see you guys Wednesday!” You waved in the faces of your friends.

“Wait, is that when the suspension is over?” Karissa prodded.

Peter didn’t miss the way you turned your head from him, you were ashamed.

“Uh, yeah. It’s my last strike. One more slip up and I’m expelled.” You rolled your lips in your mouth.

Peter’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything.

Drea gasped, “No! They can’t do that!”

You laughed dryly.

“Yeah, yeah they can. I’m one skipped class away from repeating the year. I’m skating on the thinnest piece of ice.” You were desperately trying to leave this conversation, you didn’t want Peter to hear or know about any of this. He would be so disappointed, and you hated that you still wanted to make him proud.

“That's okay, Y/N! You just need to find yourself a tutor to catch you up.” Francis contributed to the conversation, you snorted at her response.

“I did. He dumped me, remember?”

“Oof.” Karissa stared Peter in the eyes, it was his turn to avoid eye contact.

“Anyhoo,” You reached for Peter’s hand behind your back and intertwined it with your own.

“Ready?”

He looked down at you and squeezed your hand three times. You tightened your hold on him and kept it there.

“As ready as I’ve ever been.”

He paused as you opened the gate and looked behind him at your group of friends, he gave them a two-finger salute. “Goodnight, ladies.”

“Goodnight, Peter.” They all sang in unison.

Not even ten minutes Peter unbuttoned his flannel and gave it to you.

You wrapped yourself in it and flapped your hands where the cloth-covered them.

“Am I taking you home?”

You nodded at him, “Yes sir, dad isn’t home. I hope Allen isn’t either.” You added the last part under your breath. Peter didn’t get why, you and your brother got along better than most siblings. There were a few times you even went on double dates with him and his girlfriend, unless there was recent drama in the family that he didn’t know of, he couldn’t see why you didn't want to see him.

“Allen doing okay?” Peter teased the question.

“Huh? Oh yeah, no he’s doing awesome. He and Sara just had their three-year anniversary.”

You walked along the edge of the crack on the sidewalk, almost onto the street. Peter watched with a close eye, at any car coming your way he would pull you back into his side. You swung your intertwined hands between you two.

“Three years? That’s gotta be a record.” He joked with you and you laughed before adding to his statement.

“At least someone in the family has a stable relationship. I have to ask him how he does it.”

Peter frowned. Did he make you feel unloveable? Your dad and mom were never a thing and he had spent his whole life trying to chase something that he couldn’t catch. You actually believed Allen was the only one who would get a happy ever after.

He wanted to tell you that you and he had a good thing too. You really did, you bounced off each other like ping-pong balls. Each of you always tried to beat the other in wit, and each of you always fought over who loved each other more. He thinks you finally won the game.

“You have a stable relationship too.” He leaned in to hit his shoulders against yours.

“Do I?” You looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Mhm. Your bed and Netflix haven’t let you down ever.” He laughed at the end but you moved your eyesight back to the crack in front of you.

You kept trying to hint at him to talk about it. Either he was missing the mark or was tuning you out. Why were you even trying?

“Do you..” You trailed off. You weren’t going to ask, he broke up with you. He didn’t feel remorse, if he did he would’ve tried harder by now.

“Do I?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Peter frowned, it didn't seem like nothing.

You thought about him on the walk home. He hurt you more than you thought possible, but all you wanted tonight was his arms around you and his mouth on yours. You knew you would hate yourself in the morning, you would berate yourself, and question why you let yourself slip backward. Let him know that this attitude was all a front. But you missed him more than you hated him. You missed his hands on you, his lips on your neck. The way his body fit perfectly between your hips, you missed how he grunted when you pulled at his curls. You missed the way he loved you.

You knew Dua Lipa had told you about not getting under him because you wouldn’t be able to get over him, but it’s been three months and you still love him just the same. You would never admit it but you hoped he did too.

“Tell me about school. What’s going on there?” Peter pulled you into his side when he heard a city bus approaching. You gave him a ‘Ha!’

“Nothing’s going on. Like, really. That’s why I’m in deep shit.” You pulled at a button on the shirt cuff with one hand and rolled it around your thumb. Peter thought of his next words carefully, he didn’t want you to think he was trying to lecture you.

“Maybe you can start by not telling teachers their husband's cock doesn’t work.” Peter looked over when you laughed. “I said that to her but I was really saying it to me.”

“What do you mean?”

You stopped walking and pulled Peter to a stop with you. You moved in front of him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

This was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. You would only slip back and ruin all the progress you had made erasing him from you, not like it did any good anyways. You always had him in the back of your mind, he didn’t deserve it.

“I mean, I think a lot of this aggression I have can be fucked out by you.” You brushed his curls out of his eyes. You were touching him like he was yours- like you could lose him again.

“Miss it that much hm?” He pulled at the unbuttoned shirt, your chest was touching his.

“No matter what I use I can’t match it. Drives me crazy, only you know how to please me.” You whispered looking at his lips. It may have been a bad idea but you forgot how they tasted, how they felt. You needed it, one last time.

You were an addict, recovery comes with slip-ups, right?

“I don’t think-”

You cut him off. You stood on tiptoes and met his mouth, your tongue sliding in and you closed the seal. Your brain lit up with fireworks, your face buzzed like you were shot full of novocaine. You went warm, his flannel suddenly feeling hot. You never wanted to separate, you lived in harmony at once. His mouth met yours perfectly, it felt like not a day had passed between kisses. You knew in that moment you could never really get over him, he lived in you whether you liked it or not. He was dormant in your system, the second you got a taste of him it was like the past three months never happened. You finally felt whole.

Peter on the other hand felt breathless immediately. He hadn’t seen it coming, he was saying that he didn't think this was a good idea but now he was eating his words. Literally. You kissed him, you leaned into him and made out with him. He felt like he was being lifted from the ground, he has never felt like this before. Even when he dated you he hadn’t felt this special, this seen. And you treated him like a God. Then he felt bad, he needed to stop this. You weren’t thinking straight, you were drunk and horny and he was the person at the top of your list to help you. Nothing more.

You pulled back to breathe, Peter opened his eyes and looked at you. You knew he was about to speak, tell you that you shouldn’t be doing this. That it was a bad idea, that he ended things for a reason. That you should stop. You didn’t want to give him a chance. You had missed his kiss so much that you needed one more, or maybe a few more.

You pulled him down by his neck to meet your lips once more, this was a bruising kiss. This was you hurt me so bad and I just really need your kiss. Or at least you hoped he would see it that way. You bit down on his bottom lip and tugged at it, he grunted and squeezed at your hips. You wished his hands would travel down.

In fact, you can ask him to. You grabbed one of his hands and pushed it to your ass. You waited for him to squeeze, to pull you closer, to lift your knee up against his hip. But he moved it. He moved it back to your hip. You bit his lip again, this was your thing. It always made him hot for you. You tried to move his hand again but he tightened his hand where it sat, he was telling you no.

“No?”

You pulled back and huffed for air, you gave him puppy dog eyes.

He shook his head at you.

“Why not?” You pouted at him.

Because you’re drunk and you don’t want to do this is what he wanted to say.

Instead, he told you he was walking you home and didn’t want to do this in the middle of the street. You nodded your head at him, “Fair point.”

You moved to walk again but leaned in for one more kiss, he wasn’t denying but he wasn’t initiating. You noticed that. You did it anyway.

“Keys?”

Peter reached his hand out for your lanyard and caught it when you tossed it. He stuck the key in and twisted, the chirp of your house alarm caught him by surprise. He forgot it did that when you opened the front and back doors. You ran up behind him and grabbed his shoulders, you jumped and his hands immediately caught the back of your thighs and pushed you higher onto his back. You pointed at the kitchen to give him direction, you tapped your ankle on his hip to get him moving. “Water first. Then room.”

Peter set you down on the kitchen counter and grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. You opened your legs and tapped at the empty space, he came to stand between them and you wrapped your legs around him pushing his groin into yours. “Y/N,” He warned. You tucked your head into his chest for a moment, this was embarrassing even for drunk you, how needy you were.

You pulled back and looked into his face. You thought very carefully about your next movement, it was going to make or break the relationship. Rolling your lips into your mouth you pushed him back and hopped off the counter. You never broke eye contact, you grabbed his hand in yours and pulled him behind you up the stairs.

This was the ultimate slip back, you were taking the man who destroyed you up to your room. You thought about it with each step you took, you warned yourself, you told yourself that you were weak, you told yourself the truth. No matter how hard you try to think of reasons not too, only one was telling you to do it anyways, Peter. Admitting it or not, you missed him like nothing else and if you can escape that path by fucking him? How much harm can be done?

“Oh, you have got to be fucking with me right now, Y/N.”

You winced, your brother was home. If you had gotten Peter to kiss you for a few more minutes this wouldn’t have happened. You could’ve avoided this entirely, he was on his way out. No doubt heading to Sara’s place, they both were saving up for their own apartment.

“Because I know you didn’t bring home this fuck head.” Then looked at Peter and spoke sternly, “Wasted no less, because there is no way, sober you would ever bring him back here, right?”

“Hi Allen.” At least Peter was trying to be polite.

“Shut the fuck up, Peter.”

Peter pursed his lips and nodded. Allen was right, he did dump you with no explanation and left you crying and angry. He knew Allen was home when he did it, he caught his eye on the way down the stairs, and the way Allen shook his head at him made him feel worthless. It was the first real shameful moment he felt after he broke up with you. Allen wasn’t his fan anymore, he actually seemed to hate him. It must run in the family.

“Allen, please stop.” You tucked your chin to your chest.

“You know what he did to you right? How you were so upset dad slept outside your door for a month straight? How you wouldn’t eat, or play GTA with me anymore? How you-” He started to rattle off the reasons why Peter shouldn’t be here, and Peter couldn’t disagree with anymore. He hadn’t known he made you hurt that bad, so much so that time stopped in your household.

“Fuck off, alright? I can make my own decisions. I know what I’m doing.” You tugged Peter further up the stairs, Peter looked back down at the front door. He really should leave.

“He’s just gonna hurt you more and you know it. But it’s your life so don’t come crying to me again.” He shoulder-checked Peter on the way down the stairs, his rib hit against the banister and he hissed, he kept his mouth shut though, he deserved that one.

Once you were in your room and had the door shut you turned to Peter and smiled.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just in a funk cause Sara and him are in a fight and he’s not breaking first.” You waved off the tension and turned with your back to him, you pulled your hair away and spoke over your shoulder.

“Can you undo this for me? Francis had to help me put it on.”

Peter stepped forward and began untying the back of your shirt, each string had its own knot. His hands were warm to the touch, you lent back against him each time his palm touched your bare skin. Your shirt dropped to the floor and you caught Peter's hands before he moved them back to his side, you brought your back to his chest and wrapped his arms around your body, and rested his hands on your breasts. Peter may have resisted your ass but he was always a tit man.

You felt his warmth as you cupped his hands around your bare chest, you put your head against his shoulder and listened to his deep breath. He was trying to control himself, and you were making it very hard. You dropped your hands from his and he held them there for a moment, he didn't back away but he wasn’t into them as much as you wished he was. You felt his hands tense, for just a moment he was going to squeeze and play but then dropped his hands back down.

You turned and pouted, he kept his eyes on yours.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t or don’t want to?”

How was he saying no? Did he not need this as much as you?

“I mean we shouldn’t and I’m making the decision not to.”

You stepped back from him and grabbed a shirt from your drawer.

“I’m tired of you making decisions for us.”

He sighed. You were about to turn the night into a fight.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I make you remember you dumped me and ruined this? The least you could do is fuck me one last time.” Your words were bitter and Peter didn’t like how that sounded.

“I did break up with you, yes. I also get to say no when you want to have sex.” Peter spoke even, he wouldn’t change his mind about this no matter what.

You scoffed.

“Don’t be deft, Peter. You knew I called you for a reason. Don’t think after three months ‘Hi’ changed everything.”

“It did for me.”

“Oh fuck you Peter! Literally, fuck you so hard. So you get to dump me and act all sad when I stop talking to you and now you get to act like the ball is in my court!” You screamed at his incompetence.

“You act like such a good fucking person but you’re not. You never told me why you did it. You let me kiss you knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere. I’m tired of you exploiting my emotions.” You shook your head at him.

Peter sighed again and turned his head to your door.

“I should go, Y/N. If you want to have this conversation tomorrow I’d be glad to continue.”

“No!” You blocked the door with your body.

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I’m sorry, I am. I’ll let it go, just don’t leave.” You pleaded with him.

He closed his eyes tight, he hated this right now. This was the second time you begged him not to go but he still did. He doesn’t think he’ll get a third chance.

“Look. I’m leaving because I don’t think you want me here. I know you say you do but you also acted way different tonight than you have in the past months, okay? I’m here to talk and answer any questions you have, I missed you so much, okay? I just want to make sure we do this right.”

You avoided his eyesight and he ducked his head to meet yours, “Tomorrow, okay? We can talk tomorrow. Pick this up where we left it.”

“Where you left it you mean.”

“Y/N.”

You looked like you were about to cry.

“Don’t make him right, please don’t. Don’t hurt me tonight Peter. I’ll break.” You begged him not to go.

“Tomorrow. I can’t hurt you if I promise tomorrow, right?” He cupped his hand around your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

You wrapped a hand around his wrist, this was the holy grail. The last chance, if he left you don’t think you would ever bounce back from it. He ruined this, he broke up with you and you were begging for a second chance.

You looked into his eyes and said the one thing that you had thought about nonstop since he ended it.

“Peter, I still lo-”

He didn’t let you say it. He pulled his hand back and stepped away from you totally.

“Stop. Just.. Don’t. Not right now, not tonight.”

“Do you not love me anymore?” Tears plucked at the corners of your eyes, this was the final goodbye.

“I need to leave. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He moved to the door while you stepped aside.

“This is it then. I fucking hate you, Peter.”

He dropped his head low, that hurt.

“You made me hate you. You did this to yourself, and I can’t believe I let myself do this. It was a bad idea, everyone told me it was. I won’t talk to you ever again, I swear on everything if you walk out you’re dead to me.”

You were mean, terribly mean. But also hurt and scared and alone and needy. And you just wanted to feel loved by the one who did it best.

“Peter.” He ignored you as he opened the door.

“Peter!” He ignored you when he went down the stairs.

“There won’t be a tomorrow if you leave. I swear, Peter.” He said nothing as he opened the front door.

He was leaving, he was actually leaving. For the second time, he left you pleading for him to stay.

“Peter!” You screamed his name but the only sound that came back was the chirp of your house alarm alerting he was gone.

You were right, there was no tomorrow. Or Sunday, Or Monday, Or Tuesday.

part two will be out soon, please let me know if you like it. it's my first time doing a parted series, it just has too much for one read.

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #peter parker drabble #peter parker fluff #peter parker mcu #peter parker #my writing

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