#sorry it took so long! Work has taken up more of my time in recent days.

[pennyserenade]

can't buy me love | robert fischer x female!oc

summary | jane and robert aren't in an arranged marriage technically, but he sure has a way of making her feel like they are. fed up with it, she decides to take matters in her own hands. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | established relationship, rich!oc, pinv sex, creampie, in my mind this is set in the 1950s because why not, light misogyny on robert's part (prude), fingering, couch fucking! word count | 5.7k (sorry) a/n | i've been writing on this one for a really long time and i'm kind of proud of it, so i hope you all enjoy it. this is week three's entry for cillian's birthday bash stories. the album this week was 1964's a hard day's night, and the song was can't buy me love.

The slight pout of her husband’s lip offended Jane Fischer. So, too, did the flutter of his eye lashes against his newly tanned skin, and the stretch of his finely made dress shirt against his shoulders as he leaned over his chair and tied his dress shoe. On days like this, she felt something akin to hatred swell in her chest for him, and she could never be sure whose fault it was: him, for being so silent, so stoic, so complacent, or her, for watching him be these things, and allowing it to make her burn inward with fury, but never expressing it. 

Jane Fischer—née Hartley—was, on paper, the perfect match for the scion of Fischer Morrow. The woman was a Texas oil heiress in her own right, and beautiful in that charmed, non-offensive way that Robert’s father always encouraged him to look for. When Robert met her, she had been twenty-two and a recent Bryn Mawr graduate with a degree in history. They’d met at a charity benefit in New York, introduced to one another by friends of friends. They’d hit it off that night purely for the fact that they were both good-looking, affluent, young, and unsure of what to make of any of it. 

Jane and Robert had stumbled their way awkwardly through three dates, and married two months into knowing one another, spurred on by the encouragement of both of their families. Her father told her that she would be the richest girl in the whole world, and Jane had agreed that would be a fine accomplishment. Any worries she might have  had about doing something with her degree before becoming a mother and wife were quickly quelled by Robert’s quiet assurances that he did not wish to have children until much later. It seemed she could eat her cake and have it too with him. 

Their marriage had been one largely void of conflict and strife. Robert was a quiet individual, who spent so much of his time working at his family business that he seemed, at times, to be merely an extension of it—like a traveling salesman who never found his way home. Whatever Jane did in the time she was not directly in front of Robert appeared to be of little consequence to him, except on the rare occasion that his own father took interest in it. 

In the second year of their marriage, when Jane had considered going back to school for her doctorate, Maurice had taken Robert and her out for dinner and dissuaded her from doing so. He feared it would make her seem “too ambitious” and “unrelatable” to the other women she would encounter being Robert’s wife, which she found amusing, until she did not. On the ride home, Robert had told her that he did not care one way or another if she went back or not, but the way he had said it made it seem like he did care, and was only saying he did not simply to save face, so she abandoned the plan with only slight embarrassment—for whom, she wasn’t still entirely sure.  

In time, she came to find that all of Robert’s vulnerabilities lay in two places: his father, who treated Robert like a chess piece more than a son, and his mother, who had died when he was a boy, and who seemed to take all the love he had experienced with her. Robert never seemed to know what to make of Jane. When he came home most nights, he approached her with polite hesitancy, as if she were a perfect stranger and not his wife. They talked about nothing—about the dinner the chef had made, or the size of their apartment, or the way the clouds swelled in the sky and threatened rain, and how dreary New York was in the winter, and how he was quite happy to be returning to Australia with his father the next week for business. 

She had tried to unfurl for him, to take the first steps towards vulnerability. One night shortly before he came home, she sat upon their love seat dressed in a diaphanous nightgown, wearing nothing beneath the fabric. They’d had sex on several occasions before it, but the act felt perfunctory, even impersonal—like it had happened because of circumstance more than desire. Jane wanted to prove her willingness to give, and perhaps, in some way, to shock him out of the collected demeanor that greeted her every night when he walked in. There was more to Robert than he let on, and she knew this: she had witnessed it that first night they had met, in the smiles and the bits of conversations they’d had in the corner of the ballroom. 

When he’d come home, Robert did indeed look shocked–almost scandalized. His lips pursed and he averted his eyes, before letting out soft peals of laughter that held little mirth. He did eventually turn his eyes towards her, but she could tell it took a great deal of effort; he smiled tightly, his cheeks drowning in a deep shade of red. 

His embarrassment made her feel uneasy, like what she had done was somehow impure. She covered herself with a pillow and told him softly she had thought he might have liked it, but could see how he didn’t. Jane didn’t allow him to stutter out an explanation or apology, for the whole thing was bad enough and to experience any more of it would only cause her more harm. 

Since that incident, they hadn’t had sex at all. He’d only recently just returned home from Australia, and for the first few nights they’d been able to blame it on him being tired from the long journey. It had felt distinctly relieving not to worry about their curious lack of having it while he had been away, and easier to forget about it all together in the nights following his return. But she knew they could not live like this, for she could not handle it. 

Robert was a grown man. He had free will and the ability to string together words and communicate as far as she knew, and she’d had enough. Placing her coffee upon their shared breakfast table table, she said, “Why don’t you want to sleep with me? I know this is an inopportune time to bring it up, but it’s an odd thing, isn’t it? It baffles me.”

Robert’s surprise was evident—in the furrow of his eyebrow, in his audible swallow as he considered her intently, like he hadn’t quite heard what she said. But he had. “I don’t know what you mean,” he evaded. He was no good at lying. It took only a moment under her unflinching gaze. “I don’t know. I…was worried you might be doing it to make me happy, and I didn’t want to make you do something that made you unhappy.”

She realized he was being earnest as she watched him. “I’m your wife, Robert.”

“Yes, but—“ He did not finish the sentence, probably thinking the next words unkind. 

Jane didn’t care. Unkindness was better than nothing. “But our parents forced us together. Told us to do it, is that it?” He nodded stoically. She scoffed. “I know you might not have chosen me completely of your own volition, and I have always known that, but I don’t mind it. I didn’t mind you, either. I mean, I did want you. I do. I was the one who said yes.” He was quiet, as always, so she continued. “How many women have you slept with? Someone once told me that you were something of an ineffable playboy. Is that true?”

“Really, Jane.”  The lines on his forehead creased. He was ruffled by what she was saying. Annoyed. He didn’t want to talk about it. He was not the only one in the business of getting exactly what he wanted as soon as he’d wanted it. though. Jane continued.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I just want to know you, Robert.”

“You do know me,” he said pointedly. The familiar red hue formed on his cheeks and he averted his eyes downwards. 

“Do you have a mistress?” 

“What? No!” She saw a flash of anger in his eyes, and it thrilled her. “I have no interest in discussing these things with you.” 

“I’ve slept with four men,” she prattled on, bringing her coffee cup up to her lips again. Her eyes ventured to the window, where the clouds threatened to spill over the city. But they weren’t going to talk about that. Not now. Not ever again. “Five counting you, really.”

He rose from the table, flush from his head to his toes. “I really must go.” 

She stood as well, blocking him from moving forward. His eyes narrowed and for the first time in their married life, she saw there was something more to him than the simple shades of cool he presented to the world. He hardened. She spoke like one would to a timid deer. “We don’t have to talk. You could fuck me.”

“That’s a crude way to talk,” he scolded. 

“I can be crude. As my husband, you think it would delight you.”

“Well, it doesn’t. You were meant to…occupy yourself. To have hobbies and interests. Don’t you?”  

The words went through her, simple, meaningless puffs of indignant air. “I went to an all girl’s college, as you know, and we were often in want of the male appendage, but we had no male. Would you like to know the intelligent and clever ways we’d manage?”

His head dropped. Exasperation gripped him. “No. I would like to go to work.” 

“I want it.” Jane stepped forward, so close to Robert she could smell the expensive quality of his cologne mixing with the scent of his skin. Her finger grazed the cuff of his suit as she batted her lashes up at him. She knew how to be beautiful when she wanted to be beautiful—had spent many hours of her life giving in to the sin of vanity—and she used it then. “I want sex.” 

Robert’s jaw twitched. “Tonight,” came his clipped response. With that, he sidestepped her, walking briskly towards the door of their apartment and slamming the door shut. 

Her lips curled into a self-satisfied grin. 

—

Robert had a habit of never coming home when he was meant to, so it was a matter of guessing and waiting. Jane had guessed seven, and she had waited until nine. 

By the time Robert unlocked the door and entered the apartment, the red lipstick she’d applied had long ago faded against the brim of her whiskey glass. But she was not drunk or angry. In fact, she had not yet even begun to develop the hazy fringes of disappointment. 

She could tell it had been a long day just by looking at him: His shoulders slumped like Atlas’, and the blank gaze of defeat drowned out his eyes. There was no point in being so rich, she thought, if you had to be this miserable all the time. 

“Does this mean I’m going to have to wipe this makeup off and get in one of those ratty nightgowns fit for grandmothers?” She attempted to joke. 

Robert’s resulting look was withering. She took another long sip of the watered down drink in her hands before rising off the couch to greet him. 

This time she’d put on more clothes: an expensive black tulle and pink silk evening gown with a tastefully scooped neckline. Its flared skirt had an intricate floral bedding along the bottom, and on her neck, she wore a dangle rhinestone necklace that her father had gifted her for her twentieth birthday. The heels she’d worn with the outfit sat abandoned under the coffee table, so that all separated her from the plush carpet were her stockings. 

Robert surveyed their apartment as a soldier might a battlefield. His distrust of her was made evident by his rigid body, and how he stuck close to the door, as if he might need to flee out of it at any moment. She couldn’t help but let out stifled laughter. Her amusement sunk its teeth into her words. “Don’t be afraid of me, Robert,” she cooed, fingers wrapping around his tie. 

He wet his lips but said and did nothing but look at her, his pale eyes alert. Up close like this, she could see him and all that made him desirable: the sharp sculpt of his cheek bones, the pretty twist of his freckled lips, the restrained intensity in his eyes. 

In the times they had slept together, it had managed to be pleasurable in the way things you did for necessity could be: knowing, offhandedly, that it was good for them—that even though they did it with structure and hesitancy, the result was the same for them as they would have been otherwise. She had liked the way he tucked around her, and she did look forward to the moments near the end where, unthinking, he’d bring his hand up to her breast and hold it there. There was nothing wrong with him, only that he gave her fragments of himself when she wanted the whole thing. No longer did she want to part her legs and guide him into her, smiling sheepishly as he gathered the blanket around them and rocked forward. They weren’t making children, after all; they were meant to be making love. Fucking, even. 

“You still look frightened,” she said, frowning playfully. Robert tensed. His hands wrapped around hers as she grabbed onto his tie. 

“I’m only tired,” he answered. 

“You’re always tired.” 

“I’m always busy, that’s why,” he said sullenly. “My work requires a lot of me.” Her fingers loosened around his tie, but he kept them trapped in his palm. “I’m not afraid, though.” 

“Then what are you?” she probed. The bit of alcohol she’d drank - or perhaps the two years of unfeelingness that lingered between them - made her bold. 

“I don’t know. Obligated,” he admitted. He let go of her but stayed close. His voice was low and confessional–seductive to her for its newness. “I have been with women before, but none like you.”

“Not even the society girls?” 

He smiled, somewhat amused. “What I’ll say is that I’ve met a lot of simple people with a lot of simple wants, and you are not one of them.”

“And what–you wanted something simple?”

“No. But you know that my father is a demanding individual; this is my life, for better or worse, and it was that way before I met you too.” 

“So simple is what you think you deserve?” She didn’t mean for him to answer, but he did. She’d never gotten so much out of him all at once. 

“No. But it’s a small price to pay for all that I have–for what we have,” he corrected. 

“Don’t you know that other men your age and in your position don’t live like this? That none of them are so constrained by their father’s wishes?"  

Robert loosened the tie around his neck and took a step around her to set his belongings on the chair. “Those men run businesses; my father is giving me an empire,” he said as he threw his cufflinks down on the coffee table. 

If she were any other woman, one that came from a plain or even slightly lesser background, Robert’s wealth and importance would have staggered her to silence. Be it as it were, she only felt pity. Robert was trapped in a life of his father’s design, made to play the part of the dutiful son in a way that was unnecessary—and he didn’t even know it. She hated to think that even her, standing there as she was, had happened because his father had said so.

“Well,” Jane continued on, stepping down from the entrance. “This home isn’t an empire and I’m not an employee. Not in any conventional sense, anyway,” she teased. 

Robert huffed out a laugh as he bent down and grabbed her tumbler off the coaster. He filled it again, the amber liquid sloshing around without ice as he brought it to his lips. Wincing at the sting of the unmixed alcohol, he wiped his mouth unceremoniously on his sleeve. 

“You know, I always knew I wanted a wife so rich she didn’t need me at all,” he told Jane soberly. “That way if she ever did want me, it would be of her volition. It feels silly, saying it out loud, but my father warned me that I would be sought out for the wrong reasons if I didn’t watch out. So I developed a list of things to look for, and I picked rich and I picked intelligent. I didn’t figure anything beyond that.”

“Why? Wouldn’t a fool be easier?” Jane took the empty glass from his hand and sat it back on the table. Her lips hadn’t transitioned out of their smile. “They want very little—desire less than anyone, I’m told.” 

“I know you thought I was foolish,” he told her. She went to protest but he shook his head. “It’s alright. Perhaps I am, in a way. A lot of men would’ve been very angry with you for the way you spoke this morning. For what you said.”

“You were angry,” she recalled. 

“No. I was nervous. Well, maybe angry, but only with myself.” His eyebrows pinched together as he looked down, regarding her. “Composure has been everything to me, you see, and to my father, it ranks higher than any religion ever could. Ever since I was a kid, it’s been drilled into me how important structure and self-control is. My father has told me time and time again how fatal it would be if I were to do something to damage our reputation. He’s probably said some version of that to me more than he’s ever told me he loves me.” Robert paused for a moment, mulling his words over. “What you did this morning threatened all of my life’s training and practice, and it did frighten me. But I’m sorry I took it out on you.” 

Jane couldn’t resist stepping forward and intruding in his personal space. He didn’t move, letting her invade. “You know,” she began, “I used to get terribly confused between apostles and apostates. At times I wanted to be both. You’ll have to forgive me for my heathen behavior, because I don’t think I’ll ever get it right..” 

Amusement spread across his face, brightening it. “You could ruin me,” he told her. 

“I wouldn’t. I’ve got a vested interest in your personal growth, Mr. Fischer.” 

Her mouth parted slightly and her eyes shifted up to his lips. Robert was getting nearer, allowing himself to be tempted, swayed. He smelt warm and rich, like the expensive, woodsy cologne that lingered in the bathroom for hours after he’d left. She wanted to taste it on his skin. Dipping his head so his mouth aligned with her own, he closed the gap between them and finally kissed her. 

Jane could feel the beat of his heart against her palms as she slid his suspenders off his shoulders. Robert’s hand fell upon her lower back, while the other curved delicately around her jaw. She helped him remove his belt and he sighed happily against her lips when she tugged impatiently at his dress shirt, freeing it from his slacks. 

The more eagerness she displayed in her undressing of him, the happier he got, as if he’d finally come to understand she was more than a trophy he could appreciate, but not touch. He took off his undershirt and peeled it over his head, and her fingers roamed appreciatively over his skin. In the light coming from the large, open windows in the living room, it was easy to make Robert out—to see him. Freckles and moles unbeknownst to her appeared before her invitingly. Overwhelmed, or perhaps overjoyed, Jane kissed along the width of his exposed chest. 

Robert laughed happily, guiding her mouth back to his. “I think I’d like to hear that story about your all girls school and the lack of male appendages now, if you don’t mind,” he told her between kisses. 

Her fingers undid the button on his trousers and she grunted in amusement. “I can show you,” she whispered. She kissed his bottom lip and he nodded.

“Please.”

Robert began to undo the zipper at the back of her dress and she turned against him, aiding his efforts. The dress slid easily off her frame. His warm lips kissed the curve between her shoulder blades and his hands pulled her hips flush against his, so that she could feel his excitement forming against her. It was a far cry from the tepid foreplay they’d engaged in before. 

She laid her head back against his chest and put her right hand over his. “I’m sure you probably know the trick.” Jane guided his hand to the waistband of her underwear. 

His fingers fanned out beneath hers. “I think I might,” he answered.

Their hands worked together, moving beneath the thin fabric of her underwear. They brushed past her pubic hair as his lips pressed warm kisses to the hollow of her neck. It all felt so good, so solid and satisfying, she nearly shuttered against him—and he hadn’t even really touched her yet. 

As one of his fingers dared to brush lightly against her, Jane gasped softly. A gush of wetness developed suddenly between her thighs. He held her body against his and she let go of his hand, giving him freedom to do as he wanted. His tongue laved against her skin as he began to part her with his finger.  

For all of his previous timidity in the bedroom, she had suspected that Robert was not beside himself when it came to pleasure. Now, she knew it. He teased at her entrance, circling over it as his open mouth slid hotly across her jaw and found her lips once more. His tongue pushed into her mouth as his finger dipped experimentally into her cunt. 

They were no longer concerned with offending one another—or at least, they had forgotten that they had once been. He slid another finger into her cunt and swallowed a mouthful of her moans while he curled his finger inside of her. He brushed against the spongy top of her walls, and relished in the collapse of her body into his. 

“And who taught you this?” he asked warmly against her mouth. 

“Another girl,” she said, voice strained. “She…she told me about it. How to do it.” 

He tucked his chin over her shoulder, watching the unrestrained wiggling motion of her hips. “Have you done it often?”

Her fingers stroked up the back of his neck and she grabbed a fistful of his hair. She threaded her fingers through his waxen locks as he continued to work her open.“Often enough,” she panted. She could hear him swallow. 

“Lately?” 

“Nothing this good,” she whimpered, pressing her hips back into his as he drove his fingers inside of her. He huffed against her shoulder and began unlatching her stockings with his free hand. 

“And do you do this often?” she asked, attempting to collect herself. 

“Mm?” Robert kissed along her shoulder. “Touch you?”

“Use your fingers on women.” 

She could feel the curve of his smile against her skin. “Not often enough. And never—“ He brushed the pad of his thumb over her clit “—like this.” 

Jane reached behind herself to grip at his hip. “Oh, Robert!” she gasped, surprised by his sudden bravado. His laughter was light and she wanted desperately to keep drawing more of that sound out of him. Her hips pressed back into his own and she felt the hardened outline of him on her ass. 

He’d been born in Australia to an English mother and an Irish mother, so he’d not been circumcised. She liked that about him. Mostly, really, she liked that she got to know it about him. To Jane, there was an eroticism to knowing him like that. Whatever seas separated them, she knew the shape of his cock, how it felt, how it looked. 

Robert eased her underwear down her thighs, his movements reeking of earnest desperation. “I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her shoulder again. “I know this hasn’t been an entirely satisfactory marriage. We’ll—“ She felt him shuffle behind her and after a quiet second, his cock was brushing against her backside. “—work on it.” 

Jane wanted to give him everything: to allow crudeness and impropriety and fault, to show him that indecency could be beneficial. With a foolish sense of disregard, she said, “Fuck me, Robert, just the way you want.” She could feel his moan in his chest before it rose to his throat. 

Robert took her seriously, a thing he’d neglected to do many times before, moving her to the edge of the couch and turning her around to face him. He held her up by the arms, and, looking at her in the eyes, he seemed to soften slightly. His lips brushed lightly over hers and his cock jutted on his stomach between them. 

“You make me nervous,” he confessed, laughing self-consciously. “Always have, even that first night. I thought you didn’t like me at all, truth be told. I found I was trying to impress you, and I’d never done that before. You wore those little white gloves—“ He paused and took himself in his palm. Jane watched as he stroked himself lazily, the tip of his cock becoming exposed. He was awfully close to her cunt. Her breathing seemed to halt. “—and a pink dress that went down to the floor. You didn’t giggle or bat your eyelashes, or even so much as blink in my direction for too long. In fact, at one point you leaned in and let the man next to you light your cigarette. I couldn’t have been more entranced if I had tried.” 

Robert lined himself up to her cunt. She watched as the black of his pupils invaded the cool blue of his irises, and he pushed himself inside of her. It was a stretch at first, but one wholly desired by both of them. He panted softly against the bare skin of her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt his shoulders move beneath her hands as he tugged her closer, pushing her so nearly off the edge of the couch that she barely sat on it at all.  

“I couldn’t understand you,” he continued, voice notably more strained, “I couldn’t understand your interest in me, couldn’t understand why you kept saying yes to seeing me again.” He pressed his mouth to the glistening column of her throat, brushing his thumbs against her warm cheeks. “And then one day, only a little after you had agreed to marry me, my father said that you were clever, dangerously clever, because now you were going to be the richest woman in the world and with a husband who wouldn’t say no to anything you wanted.” Robert’s eyebrows furrowed, accentuating the faint wrinkles between them. 

His nose traced against the curve hers, and he found his way back to her mouth. He hovered over her lips with his, and she exerted her patience by not lounging forward and kissing him. He continued speaking, his hips stilling against hers; she almost whined in protest. “How right he had been, after all.”

Jane’s fingers fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Your father wants you to be his goddamn puppet on strings, Robert. He knows nothing.” She guided his face towards hers, and she kissed him once more. He brushed his tongue against hers greedily as she parted her lips for him.

She could feel herself opening for him, the slick between her thighs doubling as he started moving inside of her again. Jane could hardly wait to say her next words to Robert. She pressed her cheek to his and they rolled off her tongue: “Before you came home, I inserted a diaphragm inside of myself,” she whispered, “which means you can do exactly as you like without worrying. And I do want you to take what you want. I want you to show me what you haven’t,” she encouraged. Her nails scraped lightly over his shoulders. 

Robert looked overwhelmed by what she was saying, his eyebrows still drawn together. She was worried that perhaps she’d crossed a line. But then he looked up at her and he smiled widely.  Jane was sure he’d never been so attractive. She swiped a thumb appreciatively over the dimple in his cheek as he began to rut into her. 

His thrusts were sharper now, so that she had to cling more tightly onto his slight frame to keep from topping over the couch. It felt incredible to be so full of him, and to be acting so unashamedly together like this. Nothing about their desire felt stolen or hidden. It felt open and free, like she had hoped it might come to be. 

They watched each other as he drove his cock inside of her. He was alight with his desire, red in the cheeks and lips, pupils wide, soft whimpers escaping as the sound of their sex began to become audible. The slap of skin hitting skin that filled the air between them made everything so much better for her too. She arched her back and he gripped onto her hip, trying to keep her still. 

She was surprised by the sturdiness of their bodies—by how much they could collectively give and take. He was fucking into her with force, as if seeing just how far he could go before he couldn’t anymore. Without meaning to, she began to moan; each time his cock jutted up inside of her, he hit parts of her she felt had never been accessed. She never wanted him to leave her, and so she clung to him. It only pleased her when he clung to her, too. 

Robert pulled her off the couch, moving so deftly that she didn’t have to react before she was laying flat on her back against the cushions of the couch. They barely fit on it together, but he managed, throwing off the back cushions quickly to accommodate them both. 

They took a moment. He smiled down at her, the same polite grin he had given her that first night, and she smiled up at him. 

“It’s my turn to show you something I was taught,” he said, his voice low. “Keep your legs down, okay?” She nodded, and he pushed up off her, bracketing her between his arms. 

She watched him curiously. His head hung and he maneuvered his body above hers. As he began to slip out from her, she gripped onto his arm. Robert looked up, chuckling. “It’s alright. This is how it’s meant to be at first.” He moved his body higher up hers, using the arm of the couch as a springboard. “See,” he told her, “When I push myself inside of you now, it’s going to feel good for us both.” 

“Where’d you learn this?” she teased. 

“Oh, same places you learned yours,” he answered happily, leaning down and kissing her fully on the mouth. 

He rocked himself upwards, simultaneously grinding himself onto her and thrusting in. Jane whimpered. “Oh,” she said, her body already so sensitive. She felt she could explode with the warmth of her want at any second and him now focusing his attention specifically on it only added fuel to that fire. 

Robert continued to rock forward, his cock thrusting slightly into her. They kissed and kissed, each one growing messier and less focused as they both became lost in their mounting desires. 

He was so looking at her as he never had before. There was a softness in his gaze as much as there was his desire. Robert rubbed himself against her with the express purpose of seeing how good it felt to her. 

She showed him; as her orgasm built inside of her, she shouted, “Yes, yes, yes” until she was arching up into him against her will and nearly shaking from the stimulation. Robert kissed every part of her as  she came on his cock. Every part of her felt on fire because of him. 

He plunged his cock more deeply inside of her as she came down from her orgasm, pressing his hand to her back so that she stayed slightly lifted off the couch and close to his body. She could tell he was close; his thrusts were becoming shorter and he was beginning to grunt against her. His hand crept up to her breast and she held her hand over his. “Oh, Jane,” he said, and that was it; his cock began to leak out into her. She laughed, proud and earnest and shocked. 

Robert collapsed into her body, and she was glad to have the weight of him on top of her. They felt so close like this. Her fingers carded through his sweat slicked hair, and she wondered whose heart was beating the fastest between them. 

His own laughter began to come out in soft peals. “I hope you do ruin me,” he panted. When she laughed, he added, “I really do, if what we just did was any preview of what that could be like.” 

“There’s a difference between ruining someone and love, you know?” She pushed back his hair, looking up at the high ceiling. “Though, for many it’s a fine line.” 

“Mm,” he hummed. “Well, you can be certain that I’ll be more agreeable to whatever you want to do to me from here on out, be it ruination or love.”

She smiled happily. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Fischer.” 

He looked up at her and for the first time, she saw playfulness in his gaze. “I hope you do, Mrs. Fischer, because I intend for you to feel the same about me by the end. We are going to be the richest, greediest, most in love people in all the world, if only in this home.” 

She didn’t think her smile could grow any wider. “I couldn’t want for anything more than that, darling. I really couldn’t.” 

[pieman1112]

Do you think Spartan-197 or Rebecca would have any talent for Valentian magic, actually? I was a little curious when I reread one of our older threads :)

I think it depends on how the magic works for Valentia. If the magic has any inherited properties through genetics then they probably wouldn't be able to but if it can be learned then I think that Spartan-197 would have a better chance with it then Rebecca would.

Spartans were generally trained to use all weapons that were in the UNSC arsenal so that they would be equipped for any mission. When the Covenant attacked and the Elites joined Humanity against the prophets, they had a chance to train and use the Covenant weapons. Hunter kept this mindset when he arrives anywhere that isn't a UEG world.

In the free time he would have, aside from cleaning his own weapons or other tasks, he would probably study other magic users to see how it's done and try to copy their movements or stances to replicate the spells. He would also have S.T.A.R analyze footage of the mages both in combat and in practice to see the best way to utilize the magic staffs and tomes.

Rebecca might struggle a little more than her father. Her focus may be on learning the healing magic as that would be an area she understands a little more and without access to UNSC medical facilites to resupply her medical pack, she would have to adapt to how medicine is used in Valentia. She may also try to learn the basic spells but may struggle a little more with the higher rank spells.

[shepherds-of-haven]

The End of an Era, and the Road Ahead

Hi everybody, the recent news about Dashingdon shutting down feels like it's a bittersweet turning point for many in the ChoiceScript community. Before Don stepped up and took things into his own hands, volunteering his own money, manpower, and time to create and maintain the site, there was no good way for people to host ChoiceScript demos and games in one place: I think the previous solution had been different Dropbox links (which was eventually nuked by security changes in how they hosted files) and possibly separate Neocities sites? Without the Dashingdon site, none of us would have had such an incredible space to gather, share and explore and experience games together, or--for some--even feel motivated to write a ChoiceScript game in the first place, not without an easy and intuitive way of sharing it with others in a playable format. The Dashingdon site significantly lowered the barrier of entry for anyone wanting to make or play or share games; more than that, it was a place of memories, creativity, and connection, and I fully believe that it served as a vital backbone of the ChoiceScript community for many years. A lot of that community relies on the efforts of volunteers--including the creator of CSIDE and the moderators on the forums--and, as with them, I can only thank Don wholeheartedly for his generosity and his 10 years of tireless, selfless, and often thankless work. The fact that a lot of people didn't even know he was a volunteer shows his altruism!

However, all of that work could have only fallen on the shoulders of one person for so long. It's a sad loss to see, though, and I'm very sorry to everyone mourning the loss of the community space, old or inactive WIPs, and save files that will be lost when Dashingdon goes dark at the end of the month. I do wish that there could be an official, stable, company-supported place for authors to host their games in one place, but at least there are alternatives for people to migrate to! (Thank you too to @hpowellsmith and everyone in the community who's taken it upon themselves to spread the news and try to make this transition as smooth as possible for everyone surprised by this announcement. And thank you to the volunteer who's taken up the banner at cogdemos.ink!) I don't know if cogdemos.ink has a page set up to help defray costs, but Dashingdon himself has a ko-fi if you want to leave a tip or thanks for his years of service to the community!

To that end, I want to reassure you all that Shepherds of Haven is safe and isn't going anywhere, and that this change won't affect the game's future. The news has, however, sped up my announcement of something I've been working on for a long time: transitioning away from ChoiceScript and moving Shepherds of Haven to Twine.

Granted, this wasn't how I originally planned on sharing this news. Patrons have known about this move since I decided on it, but I'm a dogged perfectionist, possibly to a fault. I wanted everything to be absolutely polished before unveiling the Twine build, but this unexpected news has been the nudge I needed to take the leap sooner. It's always been my habit to polish my work to an extreme degree: I will rewrite entire novels five, seven, however many times it takes before I send it to my agent or editor... or even before I show it to my own fiance! I still haven't let him read Shepherds, or the novel that I've been talking to him about since 2019, because it "isn't ready" yet, not in my own mind. A common refrain I've always heard from career associates is that my work is "unusually impeccable" by the time it hits their desk. When I do share something, it's usually done. But if I'm learning anything as I grow as a writer, it's that progress matters over perfection. The sudden closure of Dashingdon has made me realize that no one moment will ever feel perfect--and that’s okay. I have to accept that things will never be as perfect as I want to make them before I let them out into the world. Instead of holding myself to an impossible standard, I’m embracing this opportunity to push forward and bring you something I'm truly proud of. (However nerve-wracking that may be!) So, instead of reuploading the ChoiceScript demo somewhere else, only to take it down again later, my efforts are going to shift entirely to getting the Twine version ready for release. It’s a huge task, but it ensures I’ll have complete control over Shepherds of Haven and its future. If I drop everything and focus entirely on this for the next several weeks, my best estimate is that it will take 3-5 weeks of full-time work to make that final push and finally get everything caught up and ready.

Why Twine? There were a lot of reasons behind my decision to move. The biggest of all was that, as the game's wordcount grew, so too did my creative vision for it, and I found myself longing for a version of ShoH that could be just as visually rich and mechanically engaging as I was imagining. Codex entries, interactive maps, infinite saves that can be downloaded directly to your device! Moving to Twine removes the limitations of ChoiceScript's simpler engine, and allows me to honor the game's creative potential and deliver on it in a way that feels true to the journey we've shared so far. It's also a platform that offers greater flexibility and independence for both me and the game: I've put so much work into this project that I'd prefer for its success to rest more in my hands, even if that means taking on the monumental task of publishing it myself, rather than anyone else's.

So. Both the public demo and the alpha build will be released in Twine as soon as I can make that happen. The majority of the work's already done--I just need to get the alpha build caught up with some lingering day off interludes and Chapters 8.5 and 9, and I need to address a queue of lingering quality-of-life questions and tweaks. I want to also note that, while there are very exciting additions to unveil, everything foundational to ShoH remains exactly the same. The story, text, and original functions have been ported in their entirety to Twine, outside of basic edits and refinements that would have happened in the normal course of revision, anyway. I have even taken pains to implement a visual "classic" setting that will replicate the font, colors, and general simplified look of the original version, if players want to use that instead. :) But otherwise, this thing is stuffed to the gills with awesome new features. Custom music soundtrack! Clickable maps! Actual trading card collectibles! Stunning new art! Revamped codex and store and inventory systems! Helpful tutorials and autosave points! Important quality of life improvements, like being able to select pronouns separately from gender and change them any time! This doesn't even touch the surface of it, but needless to say, I think we're going to have a lot of fun. Thank you all for your patience, encouragement, and support so far, and please give me some time to get my ducks in a row. A new version of Shepherds of Haven will be ready for you to play soon!

[elizabethsnuts]

The most recent fic with Hotch’s daughter was chef’s kisses! It’s just too cute! Can we get one where baby Hotch has her father’s frown and scowl? The team finds it hilarious but Hotch is so surprised. 😂

Cranky-Pants

Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You didn’t get enough sleep last night and were grumpy all day, the team couldn’t help but find it funny that you looked like your dad when you were angry.

———

Today was just not your day, you were tired, you were cranky, you missed your midday nap and you wanted to take a long sleep but you couldn’t as your dad had taken you to his work again.

Aaron was also not in the best mood as you kept him up for most of the night and now was giving him a hard time because you were tired, so tired that you wouldn’t go down for your nap.

Aaron was holding your hand as he walked out of the elevator, you were trailing a bit behind him, stomping your little feet angrily as you walked. You let out an angry noise and stopped walking as your tiny shoe came undone.

Aaron sighed and knelt down to tie your shoe. “Y/N, I know you’re tired and cranky and I’m sorry but can you please be a little nicer.”

You huffed in annoyance and crossed your little arms. “I nice!”

Aaron looked at you and raised his eyebrow slightly. “You are not being nice to me right now.”

You let out another irritated noise before you squealed as Aaron picked you up and held your arms down so you didn’t flail them around. He walked into the bullpen and immediately heard the giggles and chuckles from his team.

His face contorted into a curious and confused frown. He looked around at the others. “What’s so funny?”

JJ and Derek were giggling, Spencer was covering his mouth to try and contain his laughter. Derek crossed his arms and chuckled again. “She’s got the same frown as you, Hotch.”

Aaron frowned again and quickly looked at your face. “What? No, she doesn’t!”

Derek shook his head and pointed to your face and then to Aaron’s, you were both making the same face. “Yes, she does! You can’t deny something that is right in front of me and I can see with my own two eyes. She’s got the same frown as you.”

Emily smiled and took you out of Aaron’s arms, gently patting your back. “What’s with all the frowning today, cranky pants?”

You looked at Emily with a scowl which caused her to widen her eyes and let out a surprised chuckle. “Woah alright, baby Hotch. You sure do look like your dad when you’re angry.”

You just whined and put your pacifier in your mouth, resting your head on Emily’s shoulder. She started to gently rock you while keeping up the back-patting, trying to get you to sleep. You were very obviously tired.

Aaron looked over to see you half asleep on Emily’s shoulder, he saw your eyes close and the soft sucking of your pacifier slowing. He breathed a sigh of relief as you stopped fighting sleep and eventually gave in.

“I don’t know how you did that, she didn’t sleep at all last night nor did she take her nap today.” Hotch gently rubbed a hand over your back, a small smile on his face as he saw your little frown in your sleep.

Emily chuckled. “What can I say? She loves her Aunty Emily.” She softly stroked your cheek, trying to jokingly pull your frown into a smile. “She looks just like you when she gets cranky, y’know? Same frown, same scowl.”

Aaron chuckled and shook his head. “I didn’t even realise, it’s a bit surprising.”

Emily raised an eyebrow and smiled, still gently rocking you. “Surprising that she looks like her dad?”

Aaron shrugged and smiled back at Emily. “Just thought she looked more like Haley.”

Emily looked back at your face, quietly studying it. “I don’t know, I think she looks like you both. I definitely see you in her though, especially in her expressions.”

Aaron’s smile widened into a genuine one, he gently took you back into his arms. You stirred a little, moving your head around. Aaron quickly but gently moved it onto his shoulder, softly combing his fingers through your hair. “Shh-Shh-Shhh, it’s just me, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”

You mumbled in your sleep quietly and relaxed into him, your tiny fingers gripping his suit. You loved your dad even if you did get angry at him because you were tired.

[slayfics]

Explode Here

You try to get closer to Katsuki during a study session.

1.4k words

You and Katsuki entered the dorms at the end of the day.

"We still studying?" you asked him.

"Yeah," he responded.

"Alright, I just got to grab my phone charger in my room, and I'll meet you," you said, walking toward your dorm. 

"It's fine. We can just study in your room then," he recommended and began to follow you.

You froze momentarily taken off guard by his suggestion.

"What? Do you not want that?" he asked, noticing your hesitation.

"No! It's fine," you said, trying to hide your surprise.

Katsuki had been in your dorm before but, you two hadn't hung out there just the two of you. Over the past few months, you had gotten to know him more and in turn your crush on him had intensified. As a result, the thought of him being in your room caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

You opened the door to your dorm and Katsuki made his way to sit on the floor and leaned against your bed. You puttered around the room and he took out his study materials.

You made quick work of tidying up some things around your dorm and creating a perfect atmosphere for the occasion. Your hands slightly shook as you plugged in your phone and scrolled to a playlist you thought was fitting.

Katsuki didn't pay much attention to you as he was still setting up his things and scrolling on his phone.

"Be right back," you said as you hastily walked into the restroom and shut the door. Panic ensued. It's not a big deal. You told yourself as you took a deep breath and tried to get ahold of your nerves.

It pissed you off that you could be so calm and collected when it was anyone else. Yet when it came to Katsuki you were a mess. Overthinking everything you did and said. It was childish but you just wanted him to like you. So far, your antics must have been working. Katsuki was so closed off to anyone else that you counted it as a win that he even came to your room. The only person you knew he had hung out with like this was Eijiro.

You ran your hands under the water of the faucet and splashed your face with water trying to ground yourself.

"Ok," you whispered to yourself and looked at your reflection in the mirror. This uniform has got to go you thought as you undid the red tie and tossed it on the towel rack. Next, you undid a few of the top buttons of the white collared long-sleeve shirt until you were satisfied with the cleavage shown.

Taking one last deep breath to hype yourself up, you swung open the door to the restroom.

"You ready yet?" Katsuki asked irritated, moving his gaze from his phone to you. Despite his irritation, his pupils dialed when they caught sight of your new appearance. His eyes quickly averted back to his phone as a blush crept onto his face.

"Sorry," you apologized, as you took off the uniform blazer and tossed it on the bed only showcasing your figure more. "I'm ready," you said and sat next to Katsuki on the floor.

Katsuki remained quiet, a timidness now growing inside him. How was he supposed to focus on studying now when you looked like that?

"Where did you want to get started?" You asked and pulled your own study materials out of your bag.

"Here," he said roughly shoving his book at you to show you the page he was on. His gaze still averted from you.

You let out a sigh, mistaking his introversion for disinterest in you. "Ok," you said half-heartedly and you two got to work studying.

The study session proved to be unsuccessful for you both. Neither of you had much of a mind to concentrate on. You found yourself devising plans to get closer to Katsuki and pique his interest. While Katsuki was internally yelling at himself for the confusing feelings he had. Up to this point in his life, all that was ever on his mind was being the number one hero, so being distracted by you felt like a weakness to him. Yet, at the same time he wanted more.

"Wait this one is confusing me," you said commenting on the recent hero law you both had just gone over.

"Seriously? It's easy," he said.

You ignored his rude comment, "Aizawa was talking so fast I couldn't take notes on it," you complained. "Let me see what you wrote," you said moving closer to him. You brushed against him as you leaned closer to read the notebook in his lap. 

Katsuki tensed up, "I'll read it to you," he said shifting a bit away from you.

Katsuki began to read, and frustration erupted in your mind. You knew he had to feel fond for you, so why did he push back on all your attempts to be closer?

You sighed and listened to him explain.

"Make more sense now?" he asked.

"Yeah, but then what about this part?" You asked pointing with your pen to another law. You sat at a respectable distance as he explained more to you.

You followed along in his notes as he explained but the scars on his hand caught your attention as he pointed out different subjects to you.

You grabbed his hand to inspect the scars and he stopped mid-sentence.

"The fuck are you doing?" He asked.

"Which training did you get these?" You asked.

"Tch- this is why you can't remember anything you don't listen!" He barked but didn't remove his hand.

"I am listening!" You yelled back and repeated everything he just explained to you.

"Good, then what about the last law we went over today in class?" he asked.

"Can you go over that one too?" you asked hesitantly ready for another lecture, but to your surprise, he agreed.

As he explained, you grabbed your pen and began to doodle on his hand. Katsuki stopped briefly, "I'm listening promise." You said, and he continued. His hand lay in yours as you drew on his palm and listened to his explanation of the hero law.  

With your eyes focused on his hand Katsuki took the opportunity to finally steal glances at you without your knowledge. He hated how his heart rate increased every time he did. Looking back at his hand he scoffed, "That supposed to be me?!"

You giggled, "Yeah," and brought his hand up for him to inspect the chibi drawing you did.

"I don't look that angry," he complained.

"What are you talking about?! You literally look like this right now! It's a splitting image," You teased and held his hand up next to him to compare.

Katsuki grunted and pulled his hand away.

"Wait! I'm not done!" you said and made a reach for it. To your surprise, Katsuki didn't fight you as you pulled his hand back down to draw more.

"There," you said completing your doddle.

Katsuki brought his hand up to his face and let out a scoff.

The words "Explode Here" were written with an arrow pointing to the center of his hand.

"Alright well, I think that's enough for today then," he said packing up his stuff.

"I've irritated you to your max?" You questioned teasingly.

"Hah! That happened a long time ago," he said with a teasing smirk back. "See ya tomorrow," he said standing up and throwing his bag over his shoulder.

"Yeah goodnight," you said as he left.

You let a frustrated groan once he was gone and threw yourself on your bed. You thought Katsuki was just a stubborn boy and would take longer to admit his feelings but, maybe you were wrong, and you should stop trying so hard.

You prepared yourself to give up the chase until you saw Katsuki the next day in class. Nothing happened, he didn't say anything, and he didn't even greet you with anything more than a nod. Yet, when he sat down and brought his hand up to rest his chin on- you caught sight of your doodle still on his hand. A grin spread on your face knowing he hadn't washed it off.

The doodle remained on his hand for the next few days to come, and at the next study session, you two had he commented, "What? No artwork this time?" as he offered his hand to you.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Markings

More of a thought than an imagine, but still.

This is the winner of my draft pole on the 20 feb. 2025. Good on y'all!

Masterlist

Dragon!Hybrid masterlist

As a reminder : I am a French speaker writing in English, any mistakes can be corrected, so long as it's not said with insultes. I also do NOT agree with my work being distributed, paid for or published on any other plateform than Tumblr. Thank you.

Men

Aegon: 

This bitch does not know how to be a dragonkin. His father never told him, his aunt doesn't like him and his siblings either. He actually thinks he has to fucking bite you, fight me on this. 

To be perfectly honest, you are not Aegon’s mate… officialy. He was forcibly mated to his sister, But dragons are resilient creatures, and the very first Aegon had two mates. Aegon will, however, bite you as soon as you’ve agreed to stay by his side. That’s what the book said to do with your mate. That’s what Aegon did with Helaena, so that’s what he did to you too. 

To say it was painfull is an understatement. You are not a dragonkin, therefore, you do not have the same protection against their bite as they do. So, when he bit you in a night of passion, not only did you cry like a baby, but you also caught a fever that dragged until the bite finally started healing (which took two good days), and various medical solutions since you refused the milk of the poppy. 

And since you are his best kept secret (somehow), your marking is not someplace everybody can see, much to his chagrin. It would be on one of your inner thighs. A place where only you, Aegon and a maester sworn to secrecy would be aware of it. You have his permission to leave hickies on him anytime you want, everywhere you want, too. 

"I'm so sorry, my love." Aegon whispered into your hair, one hand holding yours with a strength ht you didn't recognize him. He was watching over you like you could disappear at any moment, which, felt like was possible. You'd never felt this unwell in your life before.

A warmth had taken over you the second he'd decide to bite into your thighs the night prior, without consulting you on the matter, the passion you'd felt up until then was taken over by a burning, painful fire inside your veins.

You'd pushed him away with a cry, nearly falling from the bed, blood making it's way down your leg like lava flowing the earth.

"What have you done?" You had asked Aegon, who could only look at you with huge, panicked eyes, mumbling excuses before he left the room, leaving you in the dark to fight the start of what the master had called a fire fever.

Aemond:

I think Aemond is very traditional. Your marking would have been put on you during your wedding, with mesures taken so that your time healing would not be too harsh. It’s on the juncture of your neck and collarbone. 

Aemond did this when he was still fighting against himself, persuaded that people would try to hurt you to hurt him, and did not want to appear weak, etc. He wishes he would’ve waited before he’d mark you, so that the placement would have been more personal to the both of you. But what is done is done, and he can’t change it. 

Instead, he makes you wear the most beautiful piece of clothing in his colour he can find and have created especially for you. You also have a circlet design uniquely for you that he offered you once he got the broom out of his butt and started to truly court you. 

"Are you sure your father won't object to this?"

Your voice came from behind the room-divider as you were changing into Aemond's most recent impulse buy in your attention.

"Issa Qelos, my father is in no state to disagree, and my grandfather had given me his accord." Said the prince with his calm, soothing voice, a chuckle echoing through the room as he spoke.

You laughed. "I still think it's unnecessary, I already had an outfit for tonight's banquet."

Aemond hummed in response. You stepped away from the room diviser, changed into the magnificent golden and green outfit he had ordered to be made for you. Embroideries of your family's sigil decorating your sleeves in golden threads, and the one-eyed prince smirked, nodding approvingly as he walked closer to you.

"You'd already worn that outfit, and this one fits you better." He said, adjusting the neckline.

Daemon: 

Markings are so old-fashioned, and it’s not safe for you, and truly, it’s not something he wishes to put you through. Daemon abbors seeing you sick. Instead, he will have a blacksmith that specialize in fine metals (ie. valeryan steel) to have the form of his hand made as a necklace, embedded with a multitude of very small rubies and diamonds to decorate. 

It’s one of those necklaces you have to adjust once to close behind your neck, or to remove, but otherwise are immovable. Yes, Daemon thinks it’s hilarious that he’s given you his own hand as marking, but he would be very insulted if you chose not to wear it, ever. 

He offered it to you once he made his mind about you, wanting something that would prove his loyalty and love to you, but without altering your health. Now, has he told you what it really signified… probably not immediately. 

Daemon was lounging on a resting chair in his chambers when you entered the place. A loose linen shirt and some riding pants covering (if a term was to be used) your body. He let his eyes glide over your forms appreciatively. From your legs, well defined by the cut of your pants, to your forearms, as you'd rolled-up your sleeves, and your naked neck.

Daemon smile faded as his brain registered the colour of your skin, free of all jewelry. He frowned.

"Spent a good morning?" HIs questioning was dry, which you found weird, as he'd been happy to see you off in the morning, and had had no other plans other than sleep for this day. You turned to face him, eyebrows raised, eyes searching his face for a clue.

"Yes, very good. The farms have a good sheep stock for this winter." You told him still, choosing to change directly in front of him rather than moving all the way across the room.

"And you always ride without the necklace I've gifted you, for everyone to take?" He glowered, raising from his seat.

"I never wear jewelry when I ride, my lord. You know this."

Daemon huffed, his hand taking the necklace he'd gifted you not two months ago from the table in the middle of the room before walking closer to you. "This one, you will."

You rolled your eyes at his one, but opted not to contradict him for now. He busied himself with placing the reproduction of his hand around your neck.

Jacaerys: 

It was probably an accident. He didn’t mean to hurt you!! It’s not like he can fully control himself when you feel so good and when you make him feel this good also, how was he supposed to know his fingers had grown talons? He never wanted to hear the cry of sheer pain that pierced the sanctimonium of your rooms that night. He’s lucky they didn’t pierce through you completely, he could’ve killed you. 

The Maester and his mother were rushed to your chambers, one to heal you, the other to keep Jace from literally jumping from the window to bring you justice. He felt so bad, he cried uncontrollably with you in his mother’s arms. It took hours to calm him down, and they could not make him leave the room or his hysteria worsened. 

Now, you are marked with five strikes going from your shoulders to your sides, at about the middle of your ribs, and Jace always makes sure to kiss the marks apologetically when he sees them. You even joke about it now, but he never laughs at those. 

Jace will have a jewel made for you, so as to not mark you further, but also to claim you to those who wouldn’t know that you are his. A ring, or a circlet, or both, and it would take years to make, because it has to be perfect for you. 

"I didn't mean to, mother." He mumbled, wetting his mother's shoulder with his tears. Jace had resolved to hugging his mother close, even still in his simplest apparel, unable to do anything but sob in concert with you.

"I know, my love." Rhaenyra whispered into his ear, eyes locked with your form as the maester treated your wounds. You'd been lucky, he'd said. Rhaenyra didn't know if this would alleviate the tourment her son would be living with from now on.

You whimpered again, and Jace leaped from his mother's arms, face drowned by tears to kneel at your side, his hands caressing your face to keep the hair from falling before your eyes.

"I'm sorry Jewel, so sorry." He repeated like a mantra, and Rhaenyra could do nothing but to massage her son's shoulder while waiting for the maester to finish cleaning and dressing the wounds on your back.

Laenor: 

You wear his colours. You have the form of his teeth tattooed on your skin. You wear the jewels he had made for you. Litteraly all of your being screams : Laenor’s mate. People would be blind to not see it. 

Laenor is mostly drama-free. I would even see Rhaenyra offering you a little something so as not to make you feel left out. 

Yes, he had a tattoo artist come from Pentos to mark his teeth on you, only the best, of course. And he has the shape of your hand tattooed on one of his forearms, symbolically to say that he is yours too. 

"This is so strange."

Your eyes were glued to the new decoration adorning your very skin, the small burn of a healing wound pulsating through it every time clothes would brush against the design, but you didn't truly care.

"In a good way, I hope." Laenor teased, resting his chin on top of your head as you glanced up at his face in the mirror.

You smiled. "Of course."

Women: 

Baela:

The only mark you need is her colours. Everyone knows of her mate, everyone is too scared to do anything about it, too.

In all seriousness, you have handprints burnt on your hips. Fire magic is rare, especially whilst in human form, and it comes in uncrontrolable waves, generally with strong emotions. You don’t remember why you were fighting, nor when, exactly. All you remember is the feeling of nothingness in your belly as you lost your footing, her hands grabbing your hips to hold you back to her, and the burning. 

Her hands, you learned once you woke up, had passed through your clothes and the first epiderm of your skin, burning you to at least the second degree in a matter of seconds. Your family had requested you’d be sent back to them afterward, to heal, they’d said. 

It took months and months for you to convince your parents to send you back to Baela. And she was not faring well. Since then, no one is allowed to talk about it, your help is not allowed to look at the burns and she will do everything in her power to have you renown has her mate for any other reasons than you first started. 

You'd been travelling, with Baela. For the first time since your wedding you were back to your family's estate.

Your chambers were buzzing with servants eager to help you change and dressed for dinner, already helping you out of the first layers of your clothes before Baela intervened sharply. "That's enough, we'll manage just right, thank you. You can leave." Her tone left no place for interjections, and you lowered your gaze to the ground as the servants quietly exited the room. Not wanting to find the jugement in their eyes.

Baela sighed, before walking up to you and continuing our undressing.

"have I told you how ravishing you looked today?" She asked in a more calm, quiet voice. She'd lowered her posture to look into your eyes, a small smile curving her lips.

"Only twice." You teased, you own hands coming to undo her dress too. Baela hummed.

"Not enough, then. You look marvellous." The rest of your clothing fell to the ground. Your burned hips now visible to whomever could be spying.

"Aren't you charming." Your laughter was sure to be heard outside of the room, but you didn't care. Baela's hand took their place on your hips, covering the burns of her fingers perfectly.

"That's what I aim to be, my lovely rider." She said, rising your lips tenderly.

Helaena:

You have a little bug charm that you keep on you at all times. Being part of the Princess (then Queen) retinue as either a guard or a lady, it’s not strange, nor questionnable for you to have memorabilia of her on you. 

She was marked by Aegon at a young age, and her mark burned a scar on her neck that spreadto the back of her scalp, which is why she keeps her hair down most of the time. She doesn't want you to have something similar etched on your skin. 

She also wears the ribbons you’ve given her as a present on her at all times, either in her hair, on her clothing or as an accessory. 

"I have a present for you."

Helaena's airy voice caught your attention from the small baby you'd been rocking to help soothe. You turned your face in her direction, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Me, my lady? I'm honoured."

She smiled at you, cocking her head to the side, before looking back at one of her servants who held something within her hands. The servant walked closer to you and revealed a small box.

"You've shone loyalty to me for quite some time now, I thought fitting to offer you my gratitude." Explained Helaena softly as the servant opened the box, revealing a golden beetle with amethysts for wings to you. Your eyes widened.

"My lady, I- everything I've done was with your happiness in mind. I don't deserve such expensive gift..." Helaena could've been insulted at your refusal of her gift, but she smiled wider instead.

"Nonsense. It's only right for me to show my appreciation of your friendship." The servant bowed slightly, and placed the opened box next to you, before walking back.

You nodded, a small smile on your lips as you spoke. "Very well, thank you, my lady."

Rhaena: 

Did not mark you, will not mark you, and considers her wedding band and colours of her house to be enough of a marking. She sometimes leaves the odd hickies on your skins when she feels particularly angsty, but never in places people can see. 

This is not a matter for other people, after all, it’s something only the two of you share. 

Rhaenyra:

Much like Daemon, she’s offering you many accessories to mark you as hers. But for many different reasons : 

Either 

You were with Laenor and he’s now dead: She gives you a necklace that reminds one of the waves of the sea on the shore, aquamarines and sapphires ornating the golden piece beautifully, it’s a statement that promises you protection, love and comprehension. You might have been her late husband’s mate, but you can still be her lover. 

She takes you as a lover but doesn’t share you with Laenor or Daemon: You have a brooch of the three-headed dragon that is her house sigil, in a black metal that you did not recongnised, or care to ask more about. You are hers, only hers. and her gifts show that to everyone else's who look at you. 

She takes you as a lover and shares you with Daemon: To go with Daemon’s necklace, she’ll offert you a circlet that mimics her own, upping you to a status ofnear royalty as she does so, because she’s the true queen, and whilst she has her king, you are as much at the same level as they both are. Anyone who tries to undermine that will pay the price.

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣

[softspace-fics]

Homework

Masterlist - all my work!

A/N - Hi everyone! First off I'm sorry for not posting for a few days, I haven't been feeling well and schools been alot especially now that I have a job. I also want to say thank you so much for the reblogs and follows recently, I couldn't be more greatful that you guys are enjoying my fics! Please enjoy this next one as well.

Warnings ⚠️: invoulintarily regression, reader has anxiety/panic attack, Stucky helps reader to get through the attack.

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x GN!little reader

_______________

You slam your pencil onto the desk before throwing your head back in frustration as the homework sits there heavy on your desk. You'd been staring at it for hours and every time you attempted to do it, everything would just blur and your regression would began to spiral further and further.

It had been a extremely long day with starting a new job, and college exams coming up soon, which means you were stressed beyond belief and nothing was helping. You had music going through your headphones, it only did so much to help you focus. 

Your caregivers weren't here as they were on a mission for the last month and youve been completely isolated due to college and your job and everything else inbetween.

You shakily pick up your pencil again as silent tears fall from your eyes and you feel sick trying to get these stupid notes done. You get through a few sentences before you feel the pencil taken from you and your headphones carefully taken off of your ears and your chair spun around.

You freak and almost smack whoever is touching you until you see Bucks face and every emotion you've kept inside breaks and you fall into his arms balling.

Bucky carefully but quickly picks you up, shushing you and repeatedly reminding you, your safe and loved. Gentle kisses were placed all over your head and your tears were wiped as you continued to sob into him.

Steve is next to you guys, rubbing your back, trying not to cry himself. Bucky and him came into the apartment and with your headphones being on, they could hear your tiny sniffles the moment the door was open. They immediately took off their shoes and put their bags down, before practically running down the hallway to find you.

When they saw the homework scattered all around the desk and your sitting form almost crumpled in, they knew you weren't doing okay, and swooped in to help.

They walked around with you crying for about a hour, ranting about everything, the exhaustion of how you feel starting to feel lighter after having the two people that mean the most to you back with you. 

Steve and bucky help get you into more comfortable clothes, sliding a pacifier into your lips as your tears die down and you begin to completely regress invoulintarily. You mumble around your pacifier about the homework, and bucky just gently shushes you and tells you they’ll help you do it tomorrow. 

Homework was the worst and there was times where everything feels like it's crushing around you but at least you had your caregivers to help crack down the walls you make and to help you out into the open. 

Steve takes you out to the living room while bucky gets some food made for you three, and holds you close as your tucked safely under his chin, watching cartoons. 

After the duo made sure you were fed well and had your bottle, you all eventually fell asleep on the couch, your favorite movie on and in the safedy of the two people who knew you best and loved you even more.

[junipers-archive]

i just read your recent Spencer Reid fic and ugh, I’m absolutely in love with your writing, do you think you could write something about him having a crush on the pilot who flies the BAU jet?

OMG sorry this is so late and it took me so long to get to this request but i hope i did it justice!! {this needs to become a consistent au on my blog!}

word count: 500

"Sorry for the delay! The maintenance engineers are just making sure the plane will be completely compliant with the controls." You're smiling brightly as you enter the cabin of the plane where sits the team you've just recently started flying for.

"I-Its really no problem! If you'd like I could help- I-I have a phd in engineering and I could-" Spencer, who you've only known for about two months now stops abruptly. Much to your dismay because the way the ends of his eyes crinkled and grin spread had butterflies swarming in your stomach.

Looking around you see why, Morgan is just barley containing his smile behind his fist, whilst Hotch has seen to busying himself with the files.

"Uh-Actually sure that would be great Dr.Reid!" You're trying to break the awkwardness but the way he gets up and trips over part of the carpet has you struggling to contain a giggle.

And he is just... starstruck everytime he see's you. Always so taken by how beautiful you look, especially in your pilots uniform.

Once you're outside once more you take the alone time as a chance to finally get to know the young doctor.

"So-uh with all the phds, I'd guess you were a professor of some kind?"

"Uh-yea-yea-well not really" he was trying his best to keep his cool but the flush that continued to return to his cheeks eveytime he was in your presence seemed persistent.

"I-I was scouted after completing my last one by the BAU and put to work with several other high functioning fbi workers-of course I skipped the well to do training in combat because-"

He stopped abruptly, which made you immediately frown. "What's wrong?"

He glances at you surprised, "Sorry, its just I tend to ramble-and it makes people uncomftorable and- and- I'm doing again aren't I?"

You stop and turn to him in a very serious manner that has him standing straighter, "You are not a burden. Do not apologize for having a brain that functions twice as fast as others. Ever."

And if he wasn't in love with you before, he definitely is now. But before he gets to quite literally confess said love or at least ask you on a date the maintenance engineers are hollering for your attention.

With a quick smile you turn to leave, but before you turn completely you see the unsettled dissapointment you're about to leave the young doctor with and decide to be a little more forward that you usually are. Stepping towards his quite fast, you give him a peck on the cheek and walk off with a grin spread wide across your face.

And Spencer, well he doesn't care that Morgan and Rossi just saw the interaction, or that he'll be teased for possibly the next years to come for the dumbfounded expression across his face at the moment because you kissed him. On the cheek maybe. But still. It counts, right?

[yuzuvrse]

Can we have some of ur mouthwashing headcanons for the tulpar crew? (Can be about anything btw) The brain worms are getting hungry again I fear… 😞

-ig ill be 🪷 anon if it’s not taken yet?

HELLOOO BABYYYY sorry this took so long i was dying bc of my finals </3 but anyways welcome 🪷 anon to the family!!!!!! these hcs ended up so unserious LOL

the crew got banned from playing uno after anya nearly flipped the table when daisuke put down like five +4 cards in a row now they just stick to sorry!

swansea hums to himself when he's working, it's usually like old songs but recently daisuke's pop songs have been getting stuck in his head. (i think it would be unbelievably funny if swansea starts singing like the brainrot versions of songs js bc daisuke keeps playing them. yk like the 'oh the weather outside is rizzy, and the fire is so skibidi' LMAOSKJDSK

daisuke doesn't really have a specific music taste, he listens to a mix of everything. doesn't know how to answer when people ask him what his fave genre is so he tries to act cool and says he only listens to rap music.

anya had a wattpad phase. i can't explain further i can just FEEL it.

curly is actually a decent dancer. his mom sent him for dance classes as a kid and he has a good sense of rhythm. jimmy makes fun of him for this though so he doesn't ever mention it.

jimmy has rewatched american psycho probably more than 117 times. he watches it and he's like:

(i am currently watching + reading it for the first time and patrick bateman is literally jimmy to me.) more content utc!

anya is terrible in the kitchen. like seriously do Not let her in there or the house will burn down just from her boiling water or smth. it's okay tho i will be her housewife <3 (i can't cook either) she is also very good at tetris for some reason. she's a little forgetful so she usually writes things that she needs to remember on the back of her hands but by the end of the day they're all smudged smh. but also she always has perfect nails!

curly is one of those guys who's just naturally good at things. yk when people are like 'oh yeah i never practice' and it pisses you off? he's one of those guys. ik ppl say he's british but he's so american to me??? he was definitely the jock in highschool that every girl crushed on but he never even realised.

swansea is a dog person. he's chill w cats but he definitely prefers dogs. he likes how loyal they are, and i can see him having a massive dog like a st bernard at home waiting for him. but if his kids ever brought back a kitten or smth he'd be the one to be all 'you guys better take care of it bc i won't' but then you see him becoming besties with the cat LOL.

daisuke LOVES the beach. literally a water baby. he's very good at surfing, and always ends up with a tan that makes him look even more handsome bc it compliments his dyed hair so nicely. i think that he grew up in a big family w lots of cousins around where he would be one of the older kids, so he's very good w children as well. he somehow knows the best way to entertain them and keep them out of trouble. (primary school art teacher daisuke are you guys seeing my vision?!?!?!)

jimmy gets nightmares and thus has difficulty sleeping. he lies whenever curly asks him about it but those dark circles say otherwise. this might be random but i also think he's good at singing. in another world he could have been a sleazy rockstar but instead he went to space. are u guys seeing the visual of jimmy laying back in bed strumming his banged-up electric guitar... i hate this mf.

anyways that's all for now! i had a lot of fun w these hehe <3 hope you liked them!

[delulu-with-wandanat]

ok sooo- reader comes home from school with a pet frog and it causes chaos around the household??? And it jumps in the food that Wanda’s making and jumps on Nats keyboard and makes her send a ton of weird stuff in an email 🤭 but then Wanda and Nat tell the reader that they have to put the frog back outside?

THIS IS SO ADORBSS PLEASE- Ok ok I'm really sorry it took SO long, I just recently have much more free time in my hand. I hope you like it!

Reader Description: 14 Years old, Wandanat's Child <3, gender neutral pronouns.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Wanda and Natasha's child is an animal lover. They have the tendency to bring home whatever stray they find, today was no different. They brought home a damn frog.

School was typical, you learn stuff, got in one ear and left on the other. Y/n couldn't wait to get back home. As they were walking home from school, they noticed a little pond. In it was an adorable looking frog just chilling on the leaves.

"Hello you!" They approached the frog slowly, careful not to scare it off. Gently, they bent down to offer their hand and the frog immediately jumps on as if it knows they'll be safe with them.

"Imma call you, Julio." They gently hid the frog in their bag, putting it on top of all the books so it doesn't gets squashed.

In the kitchen of the Romanoff-Maximoff household, two women were enjoying each other's company. One of them was baking, the other was typing an email.

DING!

The timer on the oven went on, Wanda bent down to pull out the tray of cookies she was baking. She put it on the counter and suddenly felt a hand encircling her waist. "Is this your way of charming me so I would let you have the first bite?"

"Is it working?" Natasha asked while nuzzling her nose against her wife's neck, Wanda giggled at the action.

"It is, but it's fresh out of the oven. You will have to wait." Wanda said while leaning her body against Natasha's. Her wife whined while resting her chin on Wanda's shoulder.

"Can't I try it now? It smells so good." It was adorable how different the infamous Black Widow is at home with her loved ones.

Wanda rolled her eyes playfully and turned around to face her, "Patience, my love."

Natasha stared at her with a look that could only be describe as pure love, "Alright. For now then can I get a kiss instead?"

Wanda laughs but leans in anyway to sealed their lips. The two women kissed slowly, there was no rush, and it was full of love. Her hand reached up to circle itself around the former spy's shoulder while Natasha's hand pulled her closer by the waist.

The two Avengers had officially retired, Wanda was first to leave the Avengers. Few years later, Natasha followed suit. They both wanted to focus more on raising their family and be there as much for Y/n, their now 14 year old bundle of joy. Natasha she still helps the Avengers a little, honestly it's hard for that woman to just sit back and relax. However she has taken a more of a 'strategic' position you could say, she's mostly working at home and almost never on the field.

Wanda however, opted to leave that superhero life completely. Catching up on everything she had always wishes to do, while also being a full-time mom. Life is perfect for them.

The two pulled away and rested their foreheads together, Natasha started to sway her slowly while humming some tune. "This is nice."

Wanda had a smile on her face as she was gently being held by her wife, she then recognized the tune Natasha was humming. "The song we played at our wedding?"

"Mmmhmm." Natasha pulled back to look at her wife lovingly. Despite them being together for such a long time, Natasha couldn't help but fall in love all over again for the woman in front of her. Natasha leaned in to kiss the slope of Wanda's nose.

"I love you, Natty."

Natasha laughs slightly at the nickname. She remembered all those years ago she almost shipped Wanda to another country just for calling her Nat. "I love you too, so much." Natasha gave her another kiss, "More than I could ever express with words."

She poured all her love into the kiss, the immense feelings she had for this woman. Natasha would go hell and back for her, and Wanda would do the same. If needed, Wanda would destroy the multiverse just for her. They love they shared was something no one could ever match.

"I'm home!!" A voice was heard followed by the sound of their front door closing.

The two woman smiled hearing their bundle of joy home safe. Wanda, the ever so loving mom, was the first to greet them. "Welcome home darling! How was school?" She asked as Y/n entered the kitchen.

"Hi mama!" Y/n said while hugging Wanda, "School was just school." They moved across the kitchen and hugged their other mom, "I got into the softball team though!"

Natasha gave her a kiss on top of their head, "Well done my darling cub! I'm so proud of you."

Y/n sniffed the air and smelled their mother's baking, "MMMMM" their eyes darted quickly to the tray of cookies on the counter. "I want one!" They tried to take one but their mother quickly stood between between Y/n and the cookies with her hand on her hips.

"Nu uh!" Wanda exclaimed, "Did you get the thing I asked you?"

"What thing?" Her child looked at her, confused. Wanda merely raised an eyebrow, "Ohhhhh... Ughhh fine, I'll be right back." They quickly grabbed their wallet from their backpack, leaving it open on the countertop beside Natasha's laptop, and went back out to buy the eggs their mother had requested.

"You know if you need it that badly, I could've gone out and get it for you." Natasha said while leaning against the counter with her infamous smirk.

"And you say I spoil them too much?"

Natasha chuckles and moved to stand beside her wife who was now preparing to chop some onions. "It's almost time to do some groceries shopping anyway, if anything, I'm spoiling my beautiful wife."

"Mmmm, what would I do without you?" Wanda said while giving her a kiss.

"What are we cooking next, Malysh?"

"Well, there's this recipe I've been wanting to try. And-" As the two woman chatter, unbeknownst to them, Julio the frog had popped out of it's prison. Hopping out of the bag, Julio took in its surroundings.

What a weird place?

Decide is not necessarily the right term, but the frog jumped onto Natasha's laptop. Causing the random keys to be pressed, it continued its journey around the surface before it decided to hop across.

Natasha suddenly felt a notification on her phone, she checked it and her eyes narrows in confusion. "What the hell?" She quickly went back to her laptop to check on the email she was writing, "Why did it sent??"

Hearing her wife's frustration, Wanda glanced at Natasha. "What's the matter?"

Natasha cursed under her breath, "I need to check my laptop for virus. It's opening a bunch of weird apps, and sending gibberish emails."

Wanda's face scrunched up in confusion, "I thought SHIELD would provide you with top of the line anti-virus software?"

"Precisely my point, if it's a virus, whoever it is they're up to no good."

While Natasha did her thing, Julio manages to reach Wanda's prepped ingredients. Wanda however was still focused on Natasha, feeling a slight anxiety that someone something might be trying to attack them.

"Find anything?" Wanda asked.

Natasha's eyes was still fixated on the laptop, "No, I can't find any trace leading to them. They're sloppy, but good."

Meanwhile the culprit was still hopping around the kitchen counter, "Well maybe you should call-" Wanda's sentence was cut off with a yelp, hearing her wife's sudden squeal, Natasha glanced in her direction.

"What, what's wrong?"

"Ew! shoo- SHOO!!" Wanda yelled in disgust, "No- NO get away from there!" Natasha was quick to be at her side to asses the situation.

"Honey, what are you-"

"Ge- GET THE FROG!" Natasha quickly saw it and almost burst out laughing.

"Lyubov, It's just a-"

"Tasha, get the damn frog before I make you sleep on the couch!" Wanda said strictly, Natasha quickly obliged, she darted forward but Julio continued to hop around. "Don't let it touch my cookies!"

Natasha manages to pull the trays of cookies away before the tiny frog could jump on it. However despite the tray having some time to cool down, after holding it for a while Natasha's hand started to burn. "Ouch!" She hastily dropped it on the kitchen island.

"Tasha, TASHA!!!" Wanda squealed as she kept an eagle eye on the frog. Watching it continue to hop around like nothing matters.

"Honey, relax I got it." Natasha tried to calm her down and tried to move swiftly to catch the frog. But damn, the fucker was too good. Even for the Black Widow.

It took them a few minutes to finally catch the culprit. It was mostly spent on Wanda pointing and shouting, while Natasha tries to figure out a way to catch the little bastard. Julio was now trapped inside a container box, yet this son of a bitch is just chilling there as if nothing happened.

"What's... going on??" They heard a voice asked, the two mothers glanced at their child who was was standing on the entrance of the kitchen holding a carton of eggs.

Natasha let out a long breath, "We're alright honey, just a little kitchen accident."

Y/n's face quickly twisted into concern, "Are you guys hurt?"

"No, Detka, it's not that. There was a frog."

Y/n snorted, "A frog?" then realization hit them. Y/n quickly moved to check their bag whilst putting down the carton of eggs on the countertop. Surely enough, Julio was gone.

Natasha, knowing her own child, quickly pieced the puzzle. "Detka... Explanation, now." She said while crossing her arms.

"Hehe, Julio caused this little incident?"

"Christ you even gave it a name-" Natasha rubbed her temple, she loved their child. But holyshit, a damn frog?

"Y/n, you can't just keep bringing animals here!" Wanda scolded them.

"But it looked so adorable!"

"Detka..." Natasha sighed, "Put this frog outside please."

"But Momm-"

"No buts!" Natasha said strictly, Y/n begrudgingly approached the trapped Julio. Who is still sitting calmly, slimy bastard. They carefully slipped the cover underneath it to carry the little frog outside.

"And you're going back to the grocery store after this." Wanda said.

"Why didn't you just text me the extra things you needed?"

"I initially didn't need it until your little friend here decided to jump on my food."

Y/n sheepishly smiled, "Hehe, love you mama." They put on an innocent face.

Wanda sighed, she really can't stay mad at them. "I love you too. Now get that frog out."

Y/n walked out to the backyard while mumbling, "This frog has a name..."

Once Y/n was out of earshot, the two mothers stared at one another and laughed softly. Truth to be told they found the whole thing amusing.

"I think it's time we consider getting them a pet to take care of." Natasha said.

"Are you sure they're responsible enough for that?"

Natasha shrugged, "Only one way to find out. Beside, I'd rather have them being too busy taking care of a pet than suddenly bringing home a bunch of cockroach."

Wanda shivers at the mention of that, "I see your point."

They glanced outside the window to see Y/n ever so gently letting the frog out of the container. It seems like they're... talking to it. Wanda wrapped an arm around Natasha's waist and leaned her head on her shoulder. "It's so adorable how gentle they are with it."

"'This 'it' has a name, y'know?" Natasha joked slightly, Wanda pinched her wife's side causing Natasha to jump a little. But they both had a huge smile plastered on their face.

Natasha wraps her arms around Wanda as well, making Wanda nestle to her even more. "I guess a little puppy doesn't sound so bad."

"Mhmmm..." Natasha hummed in agreement. "Or a cat."

Looks like there will be a new addition to the Romanoff-Maximoff family.

Here you go! I hope you liked it, im so sorry it took so long to make :( But I love writing about Wandanat x Child!Reader, it brings me so much comfort!!!!

[sportswriters]

please a trent fic (smut) morning sex after you both wake up surprisingly h0rny??🩷🩷🩷

hey, thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long to be posted, i really loved writing this scenario with trent. hope you enjoy it as much as i did, have a good read! ;) - ella

a morning off - t. alexander-arnold

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x female!reader | s, f | established relationship | wc: 3k+ | warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up, everybody, be fr out there)

WHEN THE LIGHT COMES IN, brightening the room, greeting the morning sun to wake us up, my mouth moves in a low, involuntary curse, because any bit of light bothers me and wakes me up almost instantly. I roll over in bed, bumping into Trent's heavy body, not daring to open my eyes, but I know I won't be able to go back to my previous sleep in the same way. He's a heavy sleeper. The world could fall, the light could blind us, Trent won't wake up.

The bad mood reverberates through me for a moment. I lift my hand to scratch my burning eyes and feel his heavy hand on my stomach, an involuntary moan escapes my lips when I realize that he's completely glued to me, our legs tangled together, I couldn't tell where I started and where he ended.

"Trent," I whisper, the complaint taking shape. He doesn't move and I snort. “Damn, you forgot the curtains open again.”

I finally open my eyes. For a week now, the exhaustion of work has taken over our bodies and our routine and we've barely spent any quality time together. The demands of the office have left me stressed and the pressure he felt to get better from his recent injury made him shrink into his own world, but he tried not to add his stress to mine, so we always had dinner together and went to bed afterwards, this being our routine for the last few days and the closest thing to physical contact we had with each other. I can't remember the last time we had sex.

More awake now, I stare at his face, almost too close to mine, serenity taking over his soft expression. Neither of us has to wake up so early or get up for the next few hours, as we finally got the morning off to adjust our sleep and rest our bodies, but my plan to sleep late was ruined by him forgetting to close the curtain so the light wouldn't get into our room.

My lips move involuntarily in a smile. I roll over so that I can lie on my side, facing him, a little closer to his body, and his chest rises and falls in regular breathing. He's shirtless, which gives me a privileged morning view of his body and I start to feel warm. My body has been craving his for days, but exhaustion always overcame me. Now, without the rush that used to surround us almost every morning, I feel compelled to enjoy the moment.

“Darling.” I snuggle up to him, throw my leg over his waist and kiss the tip of his nose, which makes him smile, but he still won't open his eyes. “Wake up.”

I run my hand over his face, admire his beauty in silence and feel my heart skip a few beats. I'll never get used to the feeling of loving this man and that it's all real, because it feels like a dream. A dream that I expect to wake up from every day, but he lives to show me that it's real, that he loves me just as much or more.

Trent starts to wake up. The english player squeezes my waist a little too tightly, forcing me closer and that's when I bump into something hard, quickly realizing that he's aroused. That's great. That makes it easier for me to play.

I kiss his face, move down his chin and onto his neck. I rub against his hard cock and he gives me a husky moan, his hand moving down to my ass, where he squeezes and presses me against him.

“Trent,” his name comes out of my mouth in a moan.

My clit throbs and he finally opens his eyes, staring at me with that sleepy expression of a person who's just woken up, the sideways smile messing up the butterflies in my stomach and I hate that he's so effortlessly handsome. I understand all those girls who insist on sending him DMs on his Instagram profile.

“I've been missing this," he murmurs.

His body pulls me into a hug and he takes the opportunity to kiss the sensitive spot on my neck. I can't remember the last time we woke up so horny like this and I was missing it as well. I'm missing his whole body, his kisses full of ulterior motives, the vibration around my belly that he always made me feel, yearning for more.

“I'm not kissing you," I warn.

The sound of his laughter vibrates through the room and he places one last kiss on the skin at the nape of my neck before turning his face towards me, staring. His fingers smooth the skin of my ass, covered only by a thin pair of panties, all that covers me from then on is just an old shirt of his. He knows I don't like morning kisses before hygiene, so he never objects, although he never fails to tease me.

“But you're going other things, right?” he teases.

His obscene smile gives away his whole idea. There was only one intention for both of us there, and it wasn't the least bit pure. As encouragement, he rubs his hard cock against me again, the friction making us both moan at the same time. Trent's hand slips between my legs and slides down to my panties, teasing me over the cloth.

“Your panties are dirty, baby.”

His thumb swirls against my sensitive clit, the cloth of the panties wet with my moisture. It doesn't take much effort for him to get me like this and, the first few times, I used to be embarrassed by how quickly I got wet because of him, but I've abandoned my shyness. Beads of sweat begin to drip from my back and forehead. I crack a feline smile.

“I am dirty," I tease.

His eyes shine with something I can't identify. The emotion passes through his irises and disappears as quickly as it appears, but the smile has frozen on his handsome face and, taking me by surprise, he gets up and turns me over, leaving me on my back.

“I'll sort it out for you," he promises.

Trying not to throw the full weight of his body on top of me, he starts trailing kisses down my skin, at the same time as his hands go up the shirt I'm wearing by the hem. He does all this slowly until he pulls the cloth over my head and leaves my breasts free, the nipples already stiff with his touch.

“I don't know how I've gone almost a week without this sight," he says, a sigh escaping through his parted lips. I rub my thighs against each other, a bit bewildered by the pleasure taking me, and he smiles. “I'm happy for this morning off.”

“Trent…”

He leans over and bites the nipple of my right breast. The sensation takes me over completely and I thrust into him, wanting more. His tongue circles and sucks and I can't hold back the moans. I want to wake up like this every day. I even forget that a few seconds ago I was angry with him because of the curtains. Now nothing matters more than his mouth causing me indescribable sensations.

I moisten my lips and adjust myself underneath him. His mouth is still busy on my breasts and I want to tease him as much as he's teasing me, but he makes it difficult. His hands slide down to my waist and he spreads my legs further apart, wedging himself in between.

It's a better position and one I take advantage of, crossing my legs around his waist, pressing myself against his cock, feeling it harden. I want to feel him inside me, the morning boner overwhelming me, the longing to be with him like that consuming me and I've never been so grateful for a morning off.

He starts to lower his mouth to my belly and makes a trail of kisses down my skin, sending shivers down my spine, the anticipation moving to the one spot between my legs and I don't mind moaning out loud with his mouth causing me all these sensations so early in the day.

“You're so hot, Y/N” he mutters, kisses my thigh and starts to pull my panties down, getting rid of them by my legs. “That's it, baby, spread your legs for me.”

I obey. He gives me a look before leaning back on the bed, moving his body back a little and leaving his face right between my legs. When his tongue finally touches me, I grip the sheets tightly, gasping, my clit throbbing.

Trent slips his hands under my ass, holding me down, moans escaping me and I'm so immersed in the pleasure he's giving me that I can barely think, sweat dripping down the side of my forehead.

“Oh, that's it,” my moan rises and my hips buck against his mouth, begging for more; a scream almost escapes me when he bites and sucks hard, reaching a spot of mine that drives me crazy. “Trent!”

He laughs against my pussy and tries to make me come. I'd forgotten how delicious it is to wake up like this. I think from today onwards we should think of a way to have some time for both of us in the morning, before we face the day. Maybe it would be a separate exercise to help him with his recent injuries.

A few minutes later, I come in his mouth, my back arches and my breathing quickens. He pulls away and gets rid of the last piece of clothing, his hard cock visible and his mischievous smile mirroring mine. I prop myself up on my elbows and stand halfway up the mattress, admiring him, while he stands by the bed. His curious eyes catch up with me.

“What's wrong?” he wants to know.

My smile widens and I make a point of looking him up and down, proud to be sure that this man is mine and no one else's. If it weren't for my stupid rule, I wouldn't be able to see him. If it hadn't been for my stupid rule about not kissing on the mouth before morning hygiene, I would certainly have pulled him to me at that very moment, but there were still other things we could do.

“Come here," I demand.

I lie back on the bed and he readily comes to me. His body rises on top of mine and he struggles not to let all his weight fall on me, his eyes staring at me with lust. I touch his face, caressing his cheek.

“Make love to me," I ask.

Something in his eyes changes and he adjusts himself between my legs. His smile widens and I know he likes my request, something we haven't done for a while too, although we both enjoyed it very much.

I cross my leg over his body so that he can fit inside me more easily. He moans as he thrusts his cock inside and I hold onto his shoulder as he begins a slow back and forth movement.

“I'm sorry I haven't paid much attention to you over the last few days," he says, his voice a little hoarse, his hand caressing my back, moving up to my face, where he brushes my hair away from my face. “I didn't realize that maybe you were missing me or feeling left out.”

Our bodies move together and it feels so, so good. It's even better than our first time or every other time we have sex. I thrust against him, demanding that he increase the speed a little, his cock sliding in and out easily with my wetness.

"Take this off your mind, Trent," I whisper, kissing his cheek, hugging him as tightly as I can. “There's no way you can make me feel like this.”

There really isn't. He gives me all the attention he can and I understand that our routines can be exhausting, as they have been lately, which has influenced our sex life, but he has never stopped giving me attention because of that. And he always finds a way to reward me. Like now.

“You're amazing, baby," he mumbles, biting my chin to hold back his desire to kiss me, and I smile at his effort.

He increases the speed of his thrusts and my body is still sensitive from the first orgasm, but I don't mind, enjoying being totally intoxicated by the pleasure he gives me. We play a teasing game with each other as he surrenders inside me, our moans and giggles mingling, my nails scratching the skin of his back, his hands squeezing and spreading my buttocks, our sweaty bodies together.

God, I want to wake up like this every day.

“Y/N…” his hoarse voice echoes through the room and I know it's a warning of how close he is.

When Trent mentions pulling out of me to cum, I stop him, wrapping my legs around him. He looks at me with a mixture of confusion, his eyes narrowed.

“Come inside.”

“But…”

I roll against his cock and he moans eagerly. It's enough of an attitude for him to understand that it's okay with me. It's not the first time we've had sex without a condom. Trent turns our bodies, taking me by surprise, and gets on top of me, adjusting himself better. His thumb starts to massage my clit and he wants to speed up my orgasm so that we can both climax at the same time. My back contracts, my toes stretch out and I surrender to him, admiring his beauty with him there, on top, thrusting his cock into me with a speed that’s overwhelming.

My pussy squeezes his cock and he gives me a reproachful look, pinching the skin of my thigh on purpose in silent protest at my teasing him like this. My lips draw into a wicked smile, victorious and satisfied. When I feel him shudder, I know he won't last much longer before he collapses over me with his cum.

He splits my legs even further, pulling them away from his waist, his hands firm against my thighs as he increases his speed, our bodies colliding, the sound echoing in the room. My breathing becomes irregular and I hold back a moan as I feel his thumb continue to caress me, sensitive to his touch.

“Darling, are you sure?” he asks once more.

“Stop holding back and cum already, Trent.”

He laughs at my impatience and fucks me a little harder. My mind can't think of anything else but this, the two of us, his cock inside me, his fingers teasing me, his lips reflecting my smile, our bodies sweating together, our rapid breathing matching the fast, almost erratic beats of my heart.

I push myself even harder against him, I feel him shudder again, his eyes roll back in pleasure and it's when he softens that he finally lets his body reach the apex of orgasm, spilling inside me. I feel the hot liquid and gasp, a thousand sensations reverberating through my body at the same time, all because of him. Trent doesn't pull out immediately; instead, he throws himself over me, without putting his full weight, and I hear his shallow breathing.

“We need to do this every day," he decrees, which makes me laugh.

I put my hands on his shoulders and he pulls out of me, but just when I think we're done, Trent throws himself to the side, but lowers one hand back to my pussy and begins to masturbate me slowly.

“It's your turn," he says.

I meet his mischievous gaze at the exact moment he thrusts two fingers inside me unawares, making sure I come for the second time that morning. He pinches my clit, a moan comes out of my mouth and my eyes light up in his direction. Trent increases the speed of his thrusts, but I don't need much stimulation, the sensitivity of the first orgasm was still present in my body. A few more minutes at that speed, with his mouth now teasing one of my breasts, I reach climax for the second time, my pussy contracting against his fingers.

I feel completely limp, my knees lose their strength and I mentally thank myself that I'm already lying down, or I'd lose my balance. He removes his fingers from inside me and brings them to his mouth, licking up our mixed cum. I'm still recovering, trying to regulate my breathing, but my heart won't calm down at the sight of him.

He pulls me to him, my back against his chest and his hand on my stomach. Trent places a kiss on my shoulder and it's in that position that I forget the world outside, because there's just the two of us, between four walls. It's inevitable not to want to stay in that embrace forever.

“We need to find a way to adjust our routines," he starts. ”I'm a lucky guy that you're understanding of my stresses and all, but I can't not pay attention to my girl.”

I moisten my lips, an affected smile on my face. I place a hand over yours and intertwine our fingers.

"You know I don't mind, Trent," I whisper, reassuring him. “As long as you reward me.”

“Like now?” This time, he bites my shoulder lightly, teasing me.

I turn around, facing him, without letting go of our hands. He looks at me with something in his eyes that looks more like adoration. I love everything about him: the way he always makes me feel safe with his feelings, the way he looks at me, touches me, loves me. I've never even had an excuse to suspect or doubt that. From the start, he's always been transparent.

“Like now.” I touch his face, smiling. “But much more so.”

He laughs, kisses my nose and squeezes my waist. This time, his eyes shine with pure lust and I know what he's going to suggest before his mouth even forms the words.

“Round two?”

[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

[angel-eyes05]

What's In A Name

pairing: roronoa zoro x fem!reader

summary: as a master thief, you pride yourself on never getting caught. that is until you're caught by the straw hats as you try stealing from their ship. unable to turn you in to the authorities just yet, they'll have to make due with storing you on the going merry in the meantime. but, your time in confinement has allowed you to get particularly close to a certain swordsman. how close the two of you get is to be decided though.

warnings/info: nsfw mdni, oral sex (fem receiving), alcohol consumption, drunk/tipsy sex, face riding, my own sex headcanons for zoro are VERY clear here lmao ,takes place in between jaya and skypiea (please pretend theres more time at sea in between those arcs cause this will not work otherwise OK THANKS), this is for the pre-time skip zoro girlies (he's 19 pre-time skip dont come for me), no use of y/n, the first half of this is just cute shenanigans between reader and the straw hats. its a lot of character building stuff but i like it.

word count: 6.3k

notes: HI GUYS IM BACK IVE MADE MY RETURN I FOUND SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT!!!! and its the longest fic ive ever written too god damn what a comeback lmao. ok so i started watching one piece and im head over heels in love with this man...but i'm only up to water 7 rn so i only know how to properly write for pre-time skip zoro so thats how this is gonna go. i was looking for zoro/one piece fics to read but theyre literally all established relationship ones which aren't my cup of tea so im doing it myself lmao. also i didnt proofread i got too lazy sorry if some stuff doesnt make sense sorry sorry sorry but im a simple lazy tired girlie lmao enjoy!!

dividers by: @cafekitsune

You didn’t know any of their names.

You had been aboard the Going Merry for about three weeks now, and you still hadn’t learned anyone’s names. Granted, your reason for being there wasn’t to make friends anyway. That wasn’t particularly easy to do, being tied up in some storage closet and all. 

Being one of the few residents who actually lived on Jaya had allowed you to pick up a skill or two when it came to stealing. Pirates with big bounties and even bigger treasures left their ships unattended at the docks, leaving you with some perfect quick heists from time to time. Some steals were easier than others. As much as you believed in your talents, most of the time your ability to get out unscathed was based purely on the luck of the draw. It wasn’t an easy life, many recent nights leaving you with more injuries than berries and gold pieces, but it was all you knew having lived here for so long. 

After having taken a break from heists for a bit, you finally laid your eyes on a ship worth stealing from. A pirate ship with a goat out in front and seemingly orange trees next to the helm. Most of the ships at the dock had been there for a while, leaving the pirates on board used to your tricks already. Being low on cash was another factor. So, after a bit of planning, you made your way onto the ship.

Earlier, you had found that one of the windows to a cabin had been left open, so you decided to make your entrance through there. You gathered your things and dove into the crystal blue water by the dock. Once you made it to the back of the ship, you took your rope, with your own handmade grappling hook at the end, and swung it to hook on the window sill. Luckily for you, it stuck the landing on the first try. You smirked to yourself and used the hook as leverage to climb up onto the ship. Unfortunately, this seemed to be the ship’s bathroom. Not super ideal. You’d have to venture more out into the ship. But with this came the risk of getting caught. Given your dire circumstances though, it was a risk you were willing to take.

With an attempt to make as little creak as possible, you slightly opened the door into the rest of the interior. Coast was clear so far. Suddenly, a shake rattled throughout the interior. You tumbled onto the floor, pushing open a door due to your unbalance. What the fuck was that, you thought to yourself. It quickly became no matter though, when you noticed the door had opened up to a room with a treasure chest tucked away in the back. Jackpot. You slyly made your way into the room and shut the door behind you. 

The room was neatly kept, with bookshelves, a couch, two sleeping hammocks, and a desk with navigation tools on it. There was even a bar. Though temptation pursued at you, you had to stay on task. While making your way over to the chest, you heard different creaks vibrating across the walls of the ship. You prayed to yourself that it was just the wood’s reaction to the waves. As you had predicted, the chest was locked, so you searched your bag for anything that could key the lock. 

Time became of the essence quickly as the thuds and creaks on the ship grew louder and louder. Finally, the lock to the chest made a perfect click, as the chest unlocked. You lifted the roof of the chest to find a sight for sore eyes: jewels and gold galore. This was it, you were set. You were so in awe with the vision before you, that you had failed to notice the woman standing behind you. The image you saw in one of the emeralds was a tall figure, with jet-black hair just below her shoulders, and dazzling blue eyes. “Looking for something?” the woman questioned, almost sarcastically. You seemed to have forgotten rule number one of thieving. Remember to lock the door behind you.

Quick on your feet, you whip around to throw a punch in her face, but her reflexes seem to be quicker than yours by the way she catches your fist. You then attempt to kick out her legs. The image you see next shakes you to your core. A hand, seeming to appear out of thin air, attaches itself to your calf. The hand then slowly raises your fear-frozen body into the air, dangling you upside down like a party toy. You attempt to throw more hits at her, all seeming to be in vain though. You kick and scream, like a child throwing a tantrum, in an attempt to get out. The woman looks out into the hallway and signals over another one of her companions. Fuck, this is turning sour fast. Before you can make out any other features of the man, besides his cartoonishly long nose, he uses his slingshot to pelt a rock towards your forehead. Your vision goes black as the rest of the pirates rush into the room.

The rough fibers of the rope tying your wrists together were the first thing you felt as you woke up. This was quickly followed by the underlying nausea from the waves rocking the boat, reminding you why you preferred to stay on land. You attempted to stand up, but your dizziness and the rope tying you to the floor weren’t letting you get very far. Suddenly, the door to whatever room you were in swung open, and the group of 7 pirates living on board entered the room. You slinked yourself along the back wall, attempting to disappear into your skin. You weren’t sure what felt worse: The fear of what they were going to do to you, or the embarrassment that you had been doing this for so long and still got caught.

Nope, definitely the embarrassment.

The man, no boy was a better word to describe him, standing in the middle of them attempted to speak to you before a woman with short orange hair cut him off. “If you think we’re gonna let you get off easily just because we’re also pirates, you’d be sorely mistaken!” she spoke, fiery anger lacing her words. The tall woman from earlier put her hand on her shoulder, calming her down, and walked out towards you. You tried to scoot away as much as you could as she crouched down to your level. 

“Listen, we want this to be over as much as you do. We would love nothing more than to get you off our ship and drop you off at the nearest island. But unfortunately for us, that would mean having to find a group of marines to hand you over to, who we aren’t the best of friends with right now. And we can’t drop you back off at Jaya since we’re too far by this point. So, for now, we’ll just have to keep you tied down here if that works out with you.” You began to speak before the woman cut you off. “You don’t have much of a choice in the matter by the way.”

She stood back up and began to exit the room, the other pirates following her except for two. The boy with the straw hat and another man, with striking green hair and three swords lying in a holster on his belt. The boy looked somberly at you as if he was against this whole idea. But the green-haired one just stared at you. As uncomfortable as it made you feel, you couldn’t help staring back into his piercingly soft eyes. “Come on, let’s go,” the green-haired man said to the boy, finally breaking eye contact and turning his back to leave. The boy followed him shortly after. As he closed the door, you had nothing left to focus on except for the itchiness of the rope, the empty stuffiness surrounding the storage room, and your worsening seasickness.

The following weeks had the same routine. Each of the pirates on board took individual shifts watching you during the day when they were just out at sea. The strange reindeer creature would watch you when they were out on islands. The first shift was taken by the tall black-haired woman. She would come in at the break of dawn to make sure you didn’t find some way to escape at night. You two would sit in silence for a little more than two hours, asking and answering some questions before switching spots with the blonde one. His company was strange, with him hitting on you at random points in your conversations, but he always brought you breakfast in the morning. As much as he made you uncomfortable sometimes, you couldn’t deny that his cooking was the best you’d had in years. He’d even let you take a hit off his cigarettes if you ever asked, so his visits had its perks. 

The next shift was taken by the orange-haired one. The first thing she would always do when walking into the room was ask you how creepy the blonde one was. The answer varied on the day. Once she warmed up to you, she would bring you tangerines from the trees out on the deck. As the days passed, she eventually explained that the treasure you attempted to steal belonged to her, which you begrudgingly apologized for. On some level, you felt bad. These seemed to be small-time pirates, just trying to get by like you were. The more you learned about each of them, the worse you felt about your actions towards them. 

Around lunchtime, the long-nosed one would bring you your meal, cooked again by the blonde man. This member would go into detail about his next invention he was working on in his workshop. You admired his passion and energy towards his craft. His rants and rambles were normally interrupted by the reindeer creature coming in for his shift, causing intense, yet entertaining, arguments to break out between the two of them. The reindeer was the sweetest of all the crew members, always checking in on your health and helping you with your seasickness. He would talk about his home and his experiences there. You developed a pity for the creature. His presence was calming, and you felt as if you could let your guard down around him. That would change as soon as the straw hat boy would come bouncing into the room, scaring both you and the animal. You would soon come to learn the energetic boy was the captain of the ship, which shocked you. But you soon came to understand why. His crew had a massive respect for him, even if he was the root of half their problems.

Being on the ship, you got extremely close to all the pirates. Even the tall woman from before seemed to respect you in some way. You enjoyed all of their company. There was something strange about them though. One morning early in your stay on the ship, you could’ve sworn you’d heard the tall woman say something to the rest of the crew. 

“Whatever you do, don’t tell her your name. Your name is your biggest secret.”

You didn’t know any of their names. You had thought you heard some of them speak it to each other in passing conversations, but not enough to remember who was who. You had bonded with them, but if someone put a gun to your head and told you to name your prison guard pirates, you’d be dead in seconds.

Except for one.

Zoro seemed to be his name. He would come in for the last shift. His presence didn’t frighten you, but it slightly intimidated you. His habit of carrying his swords everywhere he went wasn’t helping. He was silent his entire shift, normally dosing off halfway through after spending around an hour sharpening his swords You didn’t even attempt to make conversation with him. You found out his name when the captain would yell for him to get back to his sleeping quarters. “Zoro! Your shift’s done, you can sleep for real now!” he shouted across the hall the first time it happened. Zoro almost bounced up from his sleep and gave you one look before bolting out of the room to catch up to the captain. You could hear the echoes of their bickering from down the hall as you giggled to yourself. At least he didn’t seem to always be that stern.

It seemed crazy to you. His name was the only one you knew, yet you knew the least about him. He had hardly said 5 sentences to you in the three weeks you had been on the boat. His stoicism was one of the things that drew you into him though. Something about his demeanor, how intensely he would sharpen his swords, how his worries seemed to melt away the minute he escaped into a slumber, and how alive he seemed when he was with his crew. It was enticing. You wanted to know more. You attempted asking him questions about himself, but the most you would get were one to two-word answers. The most you got from him was when your seasickness finally got to you, causing you to puke up the dinner the blonde one made for you. “Woah, are you okay?” he asked concernedly, shooting up from his seat. When your only response was a cough and more puke, he ran out of the room to go get the reindeer. One thing he failed to do was close the door behind him. 

You speculated your options. You had no idea where you were. You could be out in the middle of the ocean. Or you could be right about to dock at land. If you managed to scrape yourself about the ever-loosening rope and sneak out, you’d be free. You’d never have to worry about these pirates again. 

At this point though, did you want to?

You took too long to decide, the reindeer rushing into the room with his medical kit, the blonde one short behind him. As the reindeer gave you a dose of medicine and cleaned up your mess and the blonde one held your hand and consoled you, your attention stayed by the doorframe. Zoro leaned against the wood, watching the work from afar. What shocked you most of all was his face. For a man who seemed so disinterested in you and your existence, his brows were furrowed, his cheeks had a light pink stain on them, and a slight frown invaded his face. He was concerned. Maybe even a little nervous. But why? He’d never shown any sort of emotion towards you before other than sleepiness. Once the reindeer and the blonde one left, he continued with his shift. You noticed something though. He sat closer to you than he normally did. 

You couldn’t tell, but you were blushing the rest of his shift.

Once he left, you sat in silence, thoughts racing through your mind, until you finally fell asleep.

You noticed a change in his behavior in the next few days. When you would ask him a question, he would respond now. And with more than just a “yes” or “no” too. He had more energy around you and wouldn’t spend his whole shift asleep. He would even let out a chuckle now and then. You didn’t know what you had done differently to get him like this, but you liked him like this. He was sweeter than he let on. 

Something had changed in you too though. On the occasions, you would catch yourself looking over his appearance. The more you observed, the more you realized how handsome he was. His clear, warm skin, his hypnotic eyes, his striking hair. You caught his appearance giving you butterflies when he would walk into your storage room. Your heart skipping a beat when he would give you even the smallest smile. You would stare even more when he would nap during his shift. Noticing certain things. The way his breath would hitch sometimes. How he always slept with his mouth open and would wake himself up sometimes with his dry mouth coughs. How his chest rose and fell with his soft breaths. How fighting with a sword in his mouth probably made his tongue stronger than other men you’ve met. You felt weird about it sometimes. Almost like some freakish stalker. But you would feel better about yourself whenever you would catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. 

As time went on, the crew began to give you some more freedom. The tall woman began leaving some of her archeology books in the storage room to keep you entertained. The orange-haired one would show you all her marked-up maps. The long-nosed one would even let you out of the rope to test his inventions from time to time. With the door locked of course. And then, the big display came. One day, during everyone’s shift, they told you their names. The blonde one was Sanji. The orange-haired one was Nami. The reindeer was Chopper. The long-nosed one was Usopp. Their captain was Luffy. And the tall woman, who initiated your imprisonment, was Robin. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. With each passing shift, you grew more excited for the next. To learn the next pirate’s name, and with that, their story. Until the last shift of the day came. And you realized.

You already knew his name.

“My name’s Zoro,” he said quietly. “I know,” you replied, bluntly. 

Something felt different about this shift. You didn’t feel the same excitement you normally felt when seeing him. Without your connection to him before, his being the only name you knew, something about him just didn’t excite you as much. Now he noticed your behavior change. “You okay?” he inquired. “Mhm,” you responded in monotony. The rest of his time there was spent in silence. 

You felt bad about what you were doing. This wasn’t his fault. Yet you were acting like this. It was almost as if the two of you swapped places. He was now the one trying to dig information out of you. And you gave him nothing more than blank faces and empty words. You wished you could figure out why you were acting like this, but you had no clue.

Today though, the crew was going to take an extra step towards including you. Throughout your time on the Going Merry, you had only left your little storage room prison a few times. To go to the bathroom and visit the kitchen on special occasions. But you hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. After proving to the crew you had changed, they planned a little surprise for you.

Robin woke you up earlier than usual. “Is everything ok?” you asked, still half asleep. Robin just smiled at you. “Come on, get up.” You looked at her confused, as she walked over to your restraints, untying you from the hook keeping the rope down. She took you by your restraints and walked you out to the room. The mix of drowsiness and confusion left you slightly panicked as you realized she was walking you out to the deck. She opened the door to a still-dark morning. 

The rest of the Straw Hats were sitting out on the deck, just conversing and eating an extra early breakfast, courtesy of Sanji. They all turned to you once you and Robin walked out. “What’s going on,” you asked, still very confused. “On Thursdays, we all like to get up early and sit out and watch the sunrise. And we were talking about it, and we felt like you should join us this time,” Nami smiled. She stood up and pranced over to you, mouth slightly agape and speechless, and took you over to sit in between her and Zoro. You turned to Zoro, overwhelmed with emotions. 

It had been so long since you felt a part of a community of people. You never exactly fit in with the ruthless bands of pirates coming and going on Jaya. Finally feeling connected to people, especially after you wronged them so horribly, brought you happiness you hadn’t felt in ages. 

A singular “I-” was all you could manage to get out, a tear trickling down your cheek. “Just enjoy it. They’ll be at each other’s throats again in a minute,” he joked, getting a soft laugh out of you. He smiled gently, brushing the tear off your cheek. His finger lingered there longer than expected. You blushed. The butterflies were back and you caught yourself staring again.

“What’s that supposed to mean!” Nami interrupted. “Well, it’s true!” Zoro retorted, leaning over you to yell at Nami. The two began arguing as you noticed the sun starting to peak out over the horizon. “Shut up you two, you’re gonna make her miss it!” Usopp and Luffy yelled. They stopped bickering once they also noticed the sky begin to turn orange. 

The pinks and oranges mixed together in a beautiful watercolor painting as the sun reflected its image on the ocean. The soft waves bobbed the ship up and down in a calming hypnotic motion, almost putting you back to sleep. The beauty of it all was so serene. Against popular opinion, you always preferred sunrises to sunsets. The representation of a new day beginning. It gave you hope in your most dire situations. 

You lifted your head back to see the colors slowly spreading to the rest of the sky. Everyone to your right was in the same headspace you were like they were in some sort of trance. They were all cuddling against each other, Robin holding Chopper in her lap, Luffy and Usopp mimicking each other’s smiles, and Nami resting her head on Sanji’s shoulder. They all seemed so close to each other. Like a little family. Connected. You turned to Zoro to see if he was doing the same as the others, but all you found was his eyes softly gazing into yours, and his hand slowly inching towards yours. The minute he snapped out of it, he sharply turned his head and hand away and cleared his throat. You couldn't help but laugh at his schoolboy behavior. With your ego controlling your actions, you took his hand and slowly intertwined his fingers with yours. You could see a smile float onto his face out of the corner of your eye. You did the same.

The rest of the day was spent out on the deck. The feeling of the sun on your skin for the first time in weeks was euphoric. All you wanted to do was soak it all in. The Straw Hats must have been in a good mood today, because, with some extra convincing, you got them to finally take off your shackles. You spent most of the day sunbathing out on the deck with Nami. She had let you borrow one of your bikinis. You two were slightly different sizes though, so the suit was a little tight on you. You didn’t mind very much. You were just happy to be out of the same clothes you had worn for 3 weeks. Sanji didn’t mind either, ogling both you and Nami and basically worshipping the two of you. “It’s ok, he’ll get over it in a few hours,” Nami consoled. You circled the deck a few times to see if Zoro was anywhere in sight, but you couldn’t seem to find him. He probably went inside to nap away from the heat. Part of you wanted him to get the rest he deserved. The other really wanted him to see you in your outfit. 

The day really took a turn when Usopp brought out the liquor from the kitchen. “I was saving that asshole!” Sanji yelled. “Oh come on, this is a special occasion!” Usopp pleaded. With some more convincing, Sanji finally gave in. You and the crew got increasingly drunk throughout the evening, Zoro eventually coming out from wherever he was napping to join the party. You all had even decided to jump into the ocean and swim around for a little bit. All except for Chopper, very sober and very nervous for any incoming sea monsters. He had managed to get you all back onto the ship with some very convincing pleading.

You and Zoro caught each other catching glimpses of one another throughout the rest of the day. Zoro admiring your figure in the swimsuit, and you ogling at the way his damp shirt hugged at his muscles. One by one, as day grew into night, crew members began to pass out on the deck, deciding to sleep outside for the night. You and the other members who wanted to go back into the cabin, Zoro and Robin, made your way back down into the ship. “Make sure you tie her back up. No hard feelings but we can’t be too careful.” Even slightly tipsy, she was still her stern old self. “Yeah whatever whatever, goodnight to you too,” Zoro drunkenly pushed off. You giggled and blushed as he took your hand and led you down the stairs into the cabin. Robin sighed to herself as she watched the two of you scamper off.

You felt your heartbeat get increasingly faster as he led you to your room. For some reason, the air in the hallway got thicker as you got closer. You blamed it on your tipsiness. But your heart slowly sank as you got to the door, realizing you had to say goodbye to Zoro for the day. He opened the door and stumbled into your room, leading you in behind him. He closed the door behind him, hesitating for a moment before going to wrap the rope back around your wrists. 

He seems distressed for some reason, breathing heavily and avoiding eye contact. You look down at your hands, as he so gently maneuvers the rope around them. The butterflies begin to well up in your stomach again, the alcohol fueling their ferocity. His hands. So calloused yet so gentle. You can smell the remnants of sake exuding from Zoro’s heavy breaths. You looked back up at him. Were you two always standing this close together? You the butterflies keep rising and rising. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re not sure if you should run, kiss him, punch him, but you have to do something before you implode. Until. He stops.

The rope undoes itself in his hands as he freezes. His hands are shaking, his breath is heavy, and his eyes avoid yours like the plague. You were just getting antsy but Zoro seemed in distress. “Hey?” you ask, lowering your hands and dropping the rope to the floor. “Zoro?” You take your hand under his chin and lift his eyes to yours. You might throw up at any second. His eyes are so softly intense. 

He brushed his thumb against your cheek, sending chills down your spine. You both want the same thing. Both of you are just too scared to take the chance. “It’s ok. You’re okay,” you reassure him, placing your hand over his heart. His heart, which happens to be underneath his bare chest, him having taken off his wet shirt earlier. His breathing slows, and his eyes move down ever so smoothly from your eyes to your plump lips. You catch yourself doing the same to him, and you inching closer to him. “You’re fine.” Closer. “We’re gonna be…fine.” Your lips barely brush each other. The gentleness of the kiss is calming though, as you notice Zoro’s breath slowing. 

You brush again. And again. And again. Lips touching a little more with each meet. Until they fully interlock. The two of you melt into each other as Zoro wanders your back into a wall for support. Your kisses are structured, made to get the most out of each meeting. You’re both ravenous for each other, but you know if you go at each other like mad dogs, you won’t get what you want. So you both take your time getting to know the feeling of the other person’s mouth. You slip a moan out as Zoro’s tongue seeps between your lips. His kisses get slightly more sloppy as he runs his hands down your body. He feels the underneath of your breasts, the curves of your waist and hips, and finds a nice resting place under your ass. Your hands roam his cheeks and jaw, making their way to tug slightly on his moss-colored hair. 

“Needed this,” Zoro whispers in between kisses. “Needed you so badly. But I didn’t know how.” He separates his lips from yours and plants kisses and hickeys along your jaw and neck. “I was always just too nervous for some reason. You make me so nervous.” His hands find their way into your bikini bottom and fondle your asscheeks, getting a low moan out of you. The alcohol must’ve given him a confidence boost. “Good to see you found your footing now,” you whisper in his ear. He chuckles, the butterflies speeding up in your stomach. 

The two of you stay here for a little bit. Hell, you could stay like this for hours. Just soaking each other in. Feeling his warmth brought a fire into your soul. You could tell Zoro was getting a little antsy though, one of his hands moving from your back to your front, beginning to slowly circle your clit. The other hand went to your bikini, untying the back and letting it fall to the floor as his mouth moved to your breast. Waves of pleasure crashed through your body as you let him do his work. “God, you sure this is your first time?” you moaned out. He removed his mouth from your nipple to talk. “Never said it was, sweetheart. You just assumed it.” “Well from the loner vibe you got going on mixed with being on this ship 24/7, you can’t blame me for thinking that.” “Well the loner vibe worked on you, so who’s to say it hasn’t worked on others?” he smirked. You laughed to yourself as he got down on his knees.

Zoro slipped off your bikini bottom, completing the set on the floor. He kissed your v-line with the same softness he treated your lips to. He sat back on his knees for a moment to catch his breath, looking up at you, as if to ask for permission. You held your hand out to his cheek and rubbed it with your thumb. His eyes closed as he placed his hand over yours, as if you would ever take it away from him. God now this was a sight you could get used to. He was so infatuated with you it made your heart ache. He was right here at your disposal, yet you wanted more of him. So you bent down and gave him a sloppy forehead kiss. Once you were back up, he decided to go in. 

Like most things he does, he started slow and controlled. He kissed and sucked on your inner thighs. Once his hand finally left your clit, you knew he was ready. He kissed your cunt, using his tongue to lick up your wetness. You could pass out right now if you had less self-control. Whimpers and moans left your lips, your hips naturally starting to grind against his nose, relieving the ache in your clit. You let him know what felt good by the tugs and yanks you put in his hair. He was a natural. Your guess about his tongue earlier was right too. “You taste so good, just as I imagined,” Zoro breathed onto your lips. You could tell he was starting to lose his composure with the way he continued to bury his face into your pussy. Your cunt naturally tightened around his tongue as he tasted you. Your hips began to buck into his face as your grinding pace increased, the butterflies turning into a white heat you felt getting stronger and stronger. Your bud was becoming more swollen by the second. Your grip on his hair tightened to make up for your failing knees. 

You wouldn’t be able to take much more. Zoro wouldn’t either, his hand making its way into his pants to relieve his own bulge. His pace got faster to match your grinds. The smack of your lips against his tongue, mixed with both of your moans, was pornographically loud. Suddenly, the situation of Robin or another crew member hearing became an apparent one to you. That worry quickly left your mind once one of Zoro’s hands made its way to fondle your nipple. If he asked you to follow him anywhere right now, you might just do it if it meant this every other night. You felt he knew your body better than you did. “So pretty. So good for me. You make this so easy,” Zoro groaned between licks. “Zoro god fuck me please!” Your final whimper sent you over the edge as you wailed and came all over his perfect face. He licked up your juices as he finished his own job as well. Your knees finally gave out as you fell on top of him, into his arms.

He brought you down gently, straddling you on his lap as you wrapped your arms around him. He traced his cum soaked hand across your back and kissed your nape. You were more exhausted than expected, almost passing out in the crook of his neck. Even now, he was so gentle with you. “You did so good, darling,” he praised, kissing your earlobe. “Want…more…want you…inside me,” you managed to get out. He just laughed and pushed you up to look at you. “If you took me right now, I don’t think you’d wake up tomorrow morning. Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open, sweetheart,” he teased. You pouted. “Oh, you feel that proud of yourself?” your drunkenness fueling your frustration. “No no no, sweetheart,” he chuckled. Once your frown didn’t change, he stopped laughing and pressed a kiss deep into your forehead. “I’m sorry. What I meant was, if I fucked you with everything I have left right now, which is the only way I would want to do it, this floor would leave us with sore backs for weeks.” You stayed frowning. “I want to fuck you right, the way you deserve. And I can’t do it for you right now.” You pouted more at him. He smiled up at you and leaned in closer to your ear. “If you trust me, I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You’ll be walking funny for weeks.” God, you almost came again just now. You didn’t notice how much your jaw dropped until Zoro laughed at you. You couldn’t help but laugh back in tune with his infectious laughter. 

He kissed you with a fever behind his lips, then scanned the room around the two of you. “What’s wrong?” you drowsily asked. The exhaustion from you coming, the sleepiness brought by the alcohol, and how late it was getting was starting to overpower you. Zoro didn’t respond. He just grabbed your swimsuit and helped you put it back on, tightened your legs around his hips, and hoisted you up as he stood. You decided to ask questions once you had a clearer idea of what was happening. He opened the door and walked with you down the hallway, passing the girl’s quarters and into the men’s room. He checked inside quickly before bringing you in and signaling you to bring your legs down. You confusedly followed him to his bed as he groaned, rubbed his back, and sat down on the edge of the bunk. “Wanna explain to me what you’re doing?” you asked, slightly more awake. “If you think I’m just gonna leave you to sleep alone, tied up, on that dirty floor after what we just did, then you must think I’m a really shitty guy,” Zoro quipped before getting under the covers and trying to pull you down. You put some resistance towards him though. 

“B-but Zoro, I’m not supposed to be in here.”

“I know.”

“If someone catches me in here we’re both fucked.”

“They won’t catch you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ll wake up before Robin starts her shift.”

“Are you sure, I mean I just don’t kn-.”

“Hey.”

You stop your nervous rabbling and look at him as he sits back up. “Do you want to go back and sleep on the cold, dirty, hard floor?” You really didn’t. “No.” “Then stay here with me.” “But what if-.” “Do you trust me?”

You sure hope you did after all of that. His kind eyes reassured you in the darkness surrounding the two of you. You took a deep breath and nodded. “Do you trust me?” he asked again. “I trust you, Zoro,” you confirmed. He smiled kindly at you. “You’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.” He steadied you by placing his hands on your hips, running his hands along your waist, and pressing his lips into your tummy. You loved the way he looked at you. Like you were his whole world. It was comforting.

He took your hand and helped you into bed. You bundled yourself under the covers and wrapped yourself around his frame. He kissed your temples one more time before slipping into sleep, his light snores hypnotizing you into a slumber of your own.

The last thing you remember before dozing off was the feeling of his hands on your waist.

Everything you wanted was right here. In front of you. Straight out of a dream. Your only fear was that it would be gone once you woke up.

a/n: THIS TOOK FOREVER GOOD LORD. anyways thanks for being here for my comeback era lol. my upload schedule is NOT going to be consistent this is just a little splurge i wanted to write lol. thank you for reading i really appreciate it (i also really appreciate engagement lol please like repost comment etc im greedy). i love one piece and i love zoro. once i meet law expect all hell to break loose im gonna write so much fanfiction about him its concerning hes so fine im so excited. anyways lol thanks love you bye.

[rouge-fauna]

Some ironic/idiotic points I’ve seen way too many people say:

Tommy and Dream should have worked things out privately

How? Did you miss the part that Tommy literally blocked Dream on everything and refused to talk to Dream? How is he meant to handle it privately? Besides I’m pretty sure Tubbo in his first stream is the one that brought up things like the messages to Tommy’s mom in the first place, so if anything Tubbo is the one who brought up things to the public and made things bigger than they needed to be. Remember, his hour long stream about the meme and reasons why he dislikes Dream and how this is Dream’s “death by a thousand cuts” came first before Dream’s first stream where he reacted to parts of Tubbo’s stream.

Dream takes no accountability

He apologized for something he’s not even done, he literally took down the meme, admitted it was a bad thing to do, apologized multiple times for it, apologized for not doing a proper apology the first time and explained his reasoning. That’s literally the definition of taking accountability. Like what more do you want? Want him to beg on his knees for the internet (who called him every slur in the book) to forgive him? He made a mistake, we all do, he apologized, let’s move on, because there are parties in this drama who haven’t taken accountability or apologized so maybe we should be focused on that.

Dream and Dream Team are sexist and misogynists

Says the people who formed a nation on a role play server called L’MANberg because it didn’t allow woman (or non-Europeans). Says the guy who I get frustrated to watch because of all his sexists and inappropriate jokes (I still don’t understand how the majority of his fans are woman like heh?). Says the people who when asked why they think this only bring up recent public examples, despite a - they have always been sexists behind the scenes implication, all but one of which are bogus anyways.

Well they didn’t handle the Caiti situation properly.

What do you mean? They all responded, I’m pretty sure apologized and owned up and took Caiti’s side and made sure to tell their fandom to not go after her. Meanwhile, you think Dream should have brought her up, when she has specifically asked to not be talked about anymore. Pretty sure if he never responded he’d be bashed for not taking accountability and if he did mention her in the recent video then he’d be bashed for not respecting her wishes.

Dream’s neurodivergence (Autism and ADHD) is not important here why is it being used as an excuse.

It ain’t. I don’t think I’ve seen a single person excuse his behavior or whatever, in fact the same people pointing out the autism piece are also mostly the same neurodivergent people who are the ones upset by the use of the word. But this all blew up with the r word which Dream was told by people using it against him that it can be used by someone who’s autistic. So from the get go it’s kinda important. Then you look at the pieces, at the comments people make about Dream being weird or doing things that are socially unacceptable, is inappropriate, ridiculous…etc and then you get to a 3 hour stream of talking in circles as they can’t seem to understand eachother or at least Tubbo not understanding Dream, which afterwards Tubbo labels his Audhd way of communicating as manipulative. So yea I’d say autism, adhd and neurodivergence are pretty damn relevant and important.

Just ahhhhhsbhfnnabdnnand… I still see people condemning him for the damn r word and it’s like bruh… move on. We are way past that damn meme he apologized multiple times for at this point. Especially from the moment Tommy posted his video and weaponized his fandom against Dream. And good god, and if you didn’t watch the streams then don’t be acting like you have this hot take and posting essays and shit because damn, maybe the reason no one’s said that is because it isn’t true, something you’d known if you watched all of the streams!………….. sorry just had to get that off my chest…

[jebbzfixations]

I’ve been writing essays about criminal minds so much that you’d think it’s my number one hyperfixation, but that actually isn’t true. It was back when I first watched it, but my writing about criminal minds is more of a “research” project to me than an intense fixation. Inception, however? Oh boy. This is a long winded way of me saying I’m about to write so incredibly much about this movie that is really, truly unnecessary. I’ve done this before on letterboxd on my last rewatch, but on this rewatch, I figured I’d have more fun writing here.

I decided to rewatch mostly on a whim, deciding to take handwritten notes that’ll stay private because it’s mostly just nonsense and the bones of what I’m writing about here. I’m constantly thinking about this movie. It’s a 24/7, 365 days type of thing. This fucking film is entrenched in my every day existence to the point that I genuinely don’t think I’ve gone a day without thinking about it since the hyperfixation took hold over two years ago. In a way, Inception sort of got performed on me when I watched this. An idea got implanted, and it’s come to define me. Part of why I rewatched, I suppose, is because of all the work I’ve been putting into the Eames x Arthur fic I’ve been writing. It’s been a multi-month affair, and I recently finally hit roughly halfway through the behemoth of a story. As I’m sure you can tell, conciseness isn’t my strong suit. Never has been.

With that, I think I’ll start this analysis/essay/rambling with those two idiots. The Eames x Arthur ship (do we call it dreamhusbands? I like that even if it’s kinda corny) is what kickstarted my obsession with this film. It actually wasn’t my first watch that sent me into this never ending spiral. When I first saw it, I was sitting on my dad’s couch and was like “whoa cool movie.” Then, on a second watch, I thought, “whoa cool movie. Those two are definitely gay.” And here we are. I know any fan of this ship has picked apart every Eames-Arthur scene, considering they really don’t get a ton of screen time together. But I think I differ from a lot of the typical analysis of these two. I think a lot of people see them as scorned exes or something similar. I definitely get that lens, but I’ve personally never seen it that way. To me, they’re more so two people who have built up so much tension over time that they pretty much want to kill each other in the process of wanting to sleep together. Their conversations are all so flirty in a way I don’t think bitter exes would be. The fling theory works a little better for me, but I just don’t think two people who had already been together would act like this. There’s too much unknown, too much tension. That’s just my opinion, though. It’s hard to pick a favorite scene between the two of them, but lately it’s been the small one in the car. After the shooting and the chase, Arthur screams out to Eames asking if he’s alright. Eames is a little taken aback by the fear and urgency in Arthur’s voice, but he answers gently and assures him he’s okay. Meanwhile, poor Saito is bleeding out in the front seat actively. He’s probably wishing he got stuck with any other pairing of people. Arthur and Eames are too busy staring at each other to give a damn about anyone else. The two have an almost comical focus on each other throughout the movie. I genuinely don’t know why Christopher Nolan did that. I know a large part of it is how JGL and Tom Hardy chose to play the characters, but I mean, Nolan still wrote the scenes, right? He approved them. Did he know what he was doing?? Then why include the stupid Ariadne-Arthur kiss? I genuinely love Nolan’s work, but the thought of asking him about this makes me want to throw up. I feel like he’d call me an idiot. “How dare you turn my masterpiece into some gay love story?” Sorry, man, but that’s what my life has come to.

On that note, I do think it’s worthwhile to discuss this movie outside that focus. Despite my joking, I do think it’s a little reductive to boil this movie down to the queerness implied between two side characters. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s genuinely important to the movie and definitely very important to me, but there’s so much else about this movie that I’m itching to talk about. I typically find myself focusing on one character through a rewatch. The watch before this one, it was Ariadne. I wrote a lot about her in my letterboxd post. This time, it was actually a mix of Cobb and Saito. I know, wow, I focused partly on the main character, what a surprise. But Cobb actually is very rarely my focus when I watch this movie. He remains in the background a lot of the time to me, but this time, he caught my eye again. Mainly, his relationship with Saito. I did touch on this the last time I watched this, but it was only toward the end. This time, the full picture became clear. It is entirely fascinating to me that Saito becomes representative of Mal. It reminds me of how in Disco Elysium, Kim Kitsuragi in a way replaces Dora, Harry’s ex-wife. If you don’t know that game I guess that comparison is entirely unhelpful, but it helps me, my bad about that. Anyway, Saito becomes a way for Cobb to right his past wrongs. In Saito, he sees Mal. He sees the mistakes he made and seeks to correct them. A lot of the lines Saito says are lines Mal says as well. “A leap of faith.” Something Mal asked for, something Cobb couldn’t do. Something Saito then asks for, something Cobb becomes brave enough to complete. “This world is not real.” Something Cobb tells Mal, something that ruins Mal’s life. Something Cobb tells Saito, something that saves Saito’s life. Through Saito, Cobb can find the same catharsis that Robert is searching for. He can right the wrongs of his past. Like Robert’s catharsis, Cobb’s isn’t strictly “real.” But is there one reality? The movie tends to say “no.” So, in some world, both Robert and Cobb can heal their pains of the past. And isn’t that how life works? You can’t really right past wrongs. You can only decide that you have. I can be hurt by someone and forgive them for it. That doesn’t right what they’ve done, but it gives me peace. I think catharsis isn’t about fixing. It’s about release.

Robert is a heartbreaking character. Cillian Murphy plays him with such skill. I am forever haunted by his last scenes with his dying father. He’s in this quite frankly frightening room, a room that any sane person could tell you is not real. But it’s real to Robert because it has to be. He needs it to be. He finds that pinwheel in the safe and it’s not enough, but it almost is. It’s a chance. It’s a tiny piece of evidence that his father may have loved him. Despite years and years of evidence otherwise, if you were him, wouldn’t you believe it, too? Wouldn’t you want to believe that despite everything, your father did really love you? How would you ever be able to convince yourself that, “no, it was a fluke, that doesn’t mean anything.” That pinwheel fucking means something. It gives Robert hope. More than anything, he needs that. He cries by his father’s side and he’s finally, finally allowed to mourn him. He can clear the guilt in his heart created by all that anger. He doesn’t have to feel bad for his sadness nor his ambivalence.

“That guilt is always there, reminding me the truth.” Guilt is something that I think is incredibly difficult to dispel. I know that it unfortunately drives me. I wish it didn’t. I wish I was driven by love, or hope, or righteousness. But a lot of my motivation is guilt. I still feel guilty for things I did years and years ago, things that weren’t even my fault. Things I’ve apologized for, things I’ve attempted to make up for, wrongs I’ve (pointlessly?) tried to right. Guilt is so powerful because trying to dispel it requires something humans aren’t built to do: letting go. Love doesn’t take that. Sure, “if you love someone, let them go,” but you don’t have to lose love to let someone go. You can let someone go because you love them and still love them. But guilt? You have no choice but to let go, or it’ll eat you alive. You have to release, you have to let memories die, you have to do the one thing we’re taught to avoid and forget. Cobb has to leave Mal behind. He has to accept that he will forget her face, has to learn to live with the loss. The bravest thing we can do is stand strong in the face of time.

Cobb is a man out of time. He is constantly fighting against the clock, racing through the stages of his life over and over again. He has to change those memories, and yet he can’t. He traps himself in a paradox. You can’t beat time. You can’t go back, you can’t push far forward. Cobb has to accept that no matter how hard he tries, Mal is gone. How do you accept that? I sure as hell don’t know. I haven’t faced any major life deaths yet, but I’ve lost things. Lost people in ways other than death. Lost pieces of them. I still can’t accept it. I still remember them on their birthdays, still look for my dead cats on the windowsill, still think fondly of the past and long for it. Just like Cobb, I sometimes wish I could hop in an elevator and go back. Just to watch. To watch those memories, good and bad, and take them in with the knowledge I know now. Just to hold on to them a little longer. But we can’t. I can’t. I try to learn that with every rewatch. Maybe one day, it’ll take.

On a lighter, less outlandish and pretentiously philosophical note, I want to pivot and talk about Arthur a little. My beloved Arthur. I think Eames tends to be the fan favorite, and I definitely understand that. He’s funny, witty, and he’s Tom Hardy. There’s not much you can fault him for. But I don’t care, Arthur will always be my favorite. He’s more complex than he gets credit for. On the surface, he’s this no-nonsense, intelligent point man with a massive ego and a one-track mind. But I think there’s more to him. There’s a moment I always reflect on in this movie, and it’s when Arthur reveals to Ariadne that Mal has died. He gets so…quiet. So gentle. He almost struggles to get the words out. “She was lovely.” That haunts me. He becomes almost childlike. He’s spent the entire movie to this point being the “suave, smart teacher” dude. But this moment humanizes him. It shows us that he’s got a past, that Mal meant something to him, that he acts the way he does not because it’s who he is but because it’s who he has to be.

Arthur’s relationship with Cobb is another thing I get stuck on. I know that Arthur x Cobb is a ship but wow I do not see that at all. In fact, on this rewatch, I noticed a lot of animosity between them that I haven’t before. Cobb not wanting to tell Arthur the truth about Mal, Cobb telling Arthur blatantly “it’s every man for himself,” Cobb treating Arthur almost like he’s disposable. I’ve always seen it in my head that Arthur and Cobb have a long history of working together. I’ve even at times seen them as close friends. But who calls their close friend by his last name? It’s not a nickname, because Mal calls him Dom. It’s a professional courtesy. On this watch, I think I saw Arthur as stuck in some odd, mentor-mentee relationship with Cobb. Cobb taught him this world, maybe even introduced him to it, but won’t get any closer. He has to keep Arthur away to some capacity. I haven’t written them this way in most of my fics, mostly because I prefer the idea that this team could all be some big happy family. But in reality, I think Arthur’s constantly pulling at straws trying to figure Cobb out, but can never quite do it. I also like to pretend that Arthur and Mal were close before she died, but how he treats seeing her puts doubt on that. In the first dream sequence, he harshly says something like, “Why is she here?” If they had been close, I don’t know if he’d react that way. Maybe he was just in “job mode” and had to turn off his emotions. Or something like that. I’m rambling, I know I am, I should move on.

The conversation about this movie always goes back to that top. But I don’t really want to discuss that more than I already have. I believe it fell, but I understand why it’s more complicated than that. Either way, this movie is a happy ending. Cobb gets his family back. He’s able to believe in them. That’s what matters. I think a lot about this movie, particularly the little details that in all honesty don’t matter to anyone besides a desperate writer trying to make sense of how to create stories in this world. Luckily, the fic I’ve been writing is an AU, so I’ve been able to avoid a lot of the complications of the movie reality. But half of my notes today were me once again trying to figure out the idiosyncrasies of this world. Straight up, some of it just doesn’t make sense. But like I’ve always concluded, that doesn’t really matter to me. This world is magical and odd and full of an originality I don’t know we’ll ever see again on the big screen. A least, not for a long time. There’s just something special about Inception. It always calls to me like some sort of siren. I’m so attached to this world. The characters feel like friends to me. I’ve spent so long in their heads that I feel like they’ve become a part of me. I know that sounds crazy, and it is. I think I had more to say, but I’m starting to get delirious. All in all…fuck, I love this movie. More than anything. Arthur and Eames should’ve fucked at the end.

I’m kidding! (I’m not kidding)

[solar-tl-27]

ARTFIGHT

Hello hello it’s me i’m alive

News flash now on adhd medication lets pray i remember this app more so sorry so sorry

LETS GET INTO IT

sooo i’m doing art fight again this year!

So heh, i have some character sheets to show off

My @ is solar-tl-27

I’ll post some links but you can find more of my characters through my profile!

Meet SOAP my baby my darling my babiest dibby darling

She’s a puppet who’s trying to find her mom! But accidentally found her dad instead who turned out to be an ancient dragon that now just runs a newspaper and writes novels while taking care of his adoptive daughter

An ancient dragon who now resides among humans to pass his days his mind forever on the witch choux the love of his life that suddenly disappeared 800 years ago. When one day his daughter chip opened the door to a girl dressed in all pink with a face exactly like his beloved (uh ohh get that paternity test out dude)

He took her in and is now trying to help her find her mom cuz he’s like 99% sure he’s her dad but getting it from the woman herself would be useful. Nonetheless he sees her as his own as she’s taken up a role of big sister to his adoptive daughter Chip.

Chip!

Chip’s a 14 year old girl who was dropped off at the newspaper office as a baby. Taken in by dried lavender she had grown up mostly hanging around her dad after school. She had a difficult time making friends as she’s quite loud and blunt. But on her 14th birthday her dad got her a Polaroid camera to motivate her to go outside more and try to encourage her creativity. When soap arrived in her life it instantly changed her life for the better and she clung on HARD. While soap is more monotone but curious Chip is a little bit of a know it all and loves explaining everything in great detail. Chip is unaware of who choux is but is here to help regardless!

Now onto some others who you can find onnnn my profile that i finished already!

Tess & Isaac!

These 2! Are from a project i’m working on about a group of young creatives getting a chance for easier work opportunities as they help revive the creative sector of a region recently struck by disaster, tess & isaac are the main characters so i’m putting them on artfight!

Both are here to help bring awareness but also bring positivity back to the masses, a story about the positive impact art can have on the world!

Tess is a starting off idol she got some fame with her own music but mostly got this opportunity to get out of the house, she’s determined but also a little clumsy … mostly caused by her reeeealy long hair

Isaac is a very known figure, having been in acting & music since he was a child is a bit weary of new connections but took on the project because his agent basically told him he has no friends and should make some (rude but true)

The project is hosted in the heart of the big city with all the young creatives being housed on 3 floors of the biggest hotel of the region with the owner being the host of the project!

Tess & isaac got off on the wrong foot at the start, but they seemed to be roomed next to eachother!

And thanks to tess’s cat (he’s allowed to be there) consistently going from her balcony to isaac’s they eventually got to talking and ooooo they are sooooo cute!

I have a lot of lore for this project so migh5 be more on them over here!

And LAST BUT NOT LEAST of the ones i have so far!

Sasha & Cassian!

The shared oc’s i have with my bestfriend!

The husbands ever!

Both having very tragic tales on their own but together they form a little au of them finding eachother and living heavily ever after

Sasha, a god of ice and the ruler of his country

Cassian was once a mere delivery boy but is now sasha’s right hand & husband!

Sasha is a skilled fighter and uses his free time to patrol areas around the castle proving his skills as he uses his trophies to bedazzle his husband (wifeeeyyy)

While cassian is an excellent magician who uses his free time to tend to his gardens inside the greenhouse gifted to him by his husband

They have 2 childeren

One biological (no i wont go into the details) a young girl named Katia, a demigod who’s skin is just as icy as her father sasha but has the bluest eyes like her mom (yes she calls him mom ) cassian

While their other

Is delwyn a 11 year old who’s very ill she’s cassian’s biological sister but due to having never met her parents she considers cass her dad and eversince she moved into the castle she’s gotten used to calling sasha her dad too!

These 2 are my favorite boyos i love them and i love their kids so i ofcourse had to add them to artfight aswell! (With my bestie’s permission)

That was all ty very much i hope yall have a good time and if you partake in artfight HAVE A GOOD ART FIGHT & GOOD LUCK!