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norrizzandpia · 11 months

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She’s Missed You (OP81)

Summary: In which Nicole and Chris welcome Oscar’s longtime girlfriend to live with them after he leaves, only to not tell him and have to update him when he shows up for a surprise visit.

Warnings: i forgot if there’s language in this, i don’t think so but maybe? Sort of angst, reader really misses him, THE CUTEST LITTLE THINGS WITH OSCAR’S FAMILY (i would write a whole ass imagine about what it would be like if reader was super close to Oscar’s little sisters and took them out on mornings to get coffee and such if y’all would like that lmk)

Note: I KNOW IT’S NOT A REQUEST IM SORRY I WILL GET THROUGH THOSE BUT THERE IS MORE TO COME TN SO HOLD TIGHT

The feverish knocking on the Piastri’s door late at night had Chris clutching a baseball bat in his hands, stepping suspiciously toward the slab of wood. When he reached it, swinging it open and bracing for a manic person to jump out at him, he quickly realized that aggression was not the needed emotion.

Y/n stood with teary eyes, staring back at the man who had become her second father, and asked him quietly, hesitantly if she could come in. The bat was quickly shoved to the corner of the foyer, Chris’s hands coming to usher her in, wrapping around her shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Nicole appeared from the hallway and gave him a quizzical look when she saw the way he was hugging their son’s girlfriend, the way he was consoling her.

Their hearts dropped when they heard her cry, “I miss Oscar.”

—

From that night on, Y/n slept in his room. With him being consistently away with F1, the parents had found out she was drowning in the amount of longing she held for her boyfriend, their son. They were accommodating and gentle to the girl they had known for years, even forcing her to call out of work for the first few days in order to settle in. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been over to their house, spending nights there with Oscar multiple times throughout the year before he had left to travel the world. It was just that she hadn’t been there alone. She hadn’t even shown up at their doorstep seeking a stay in his comforting four walls, but Nicole had insisted when she heard the way Y/n was dealing with the hard transition.

The parents were close to calling Oscar, but just when they decided they would, Y/n made them promise they wouldn’t. She had explained to them that if he knew how much she was struggling with his departure, he would come back and that would ruin his good streak with the season. So, the family kept quiet, dodging questions about her when they finally were able to get ahold of their son. His sisters, Chris, and Nicole were the only ones to hold the knowledge that Y/n was sleeping in her boyfriend’s bed. To be honest, they all secretly found it endearing how she would come back to their home after a long day at work, have dinner with the family, and retreat back to his room to smell him on his sheets and in the sweatshirts she stole from his closet.

The girls, his sisters, absolutely adored her being there, seeing as she would take them to Starbucks whenever she could, allowing for their bond to grow deeper. Their Saturdays were spent holing up in Y/n’s car to eat donuts and slurp down sugar coffee while watching stupid YouTube videos and grilling Y/n on embarrassing Oscar moments.

Nonetheless, as fun as it was, Y/n still felt a hole in her heart when she closed his door and came face to face with his empty bed. All she wanted was to see him, to feel him and his touch, yet she would have to settle for their few and far between FaceTimes.

It was so carefully crafted, the secret the family withheld from Oscar, that they were all so convinced he would never find out.

That was until his surprise visit.

—

Rapid knocking on their door for the second time in six months had Nicole and Chris at a loss for words. The raps being thrown against the entry to their house was powerful and held an urgency that was unmistakable.

“Can you get that, Nicole?” Chris asked her as he washed dishes from the dinner they had had earlier that night.

She nodded, traipsing over to the quickening pounds and opening the door. What met her was her smiling son with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands, a sight so dearly missed she almost fell into a puddle of tears.

“Oscar!” She exclaimed, jumping at her son and tackling him in the arms he had grown to seek comfort in.

At the mention of his son’s name and the sound of his wife's squealing, Chris peaked his head around the corner of their kitchen, catching a glimpse of the infamous brown hair. His smile was unwavering as he dropped the glasses with a loud clunk and ran over to the commotion at the front door.

“What are you doing here?!” He laughed as he wrapped his arms around his wife and son, a picturesque family.

Oscar’s muffled voice responded, “Thought I’d surprise you with the free time I have from the race being pushed back.”

The three of them disbanded, Nicole’s and Chris’s confused faces making him continue.

“Spa’s date was pushed back because of the storm they’re having right now. The race is scheduled for two weeks from now, but that could be pushed back as well because of the repairs they have to do. It hasn’t been publicized yet, that’s why you don’t know.”

At the new information, the story came together and his parents were nodding, bringing him into another hug after having not seen him for so long.

“I’ll be right back down, I’m just going to go drop off my bags in my room.” He murmured in their chests as they squeezed him tightly. The two were so excited to see him, they weren’t thinking about the girl that laid asleep in the very room their son was trying to get to.

He was halfway up the stairs when his mother yelled for him despite the rest of the house being asleep, “Oscar!”

He popped his head over the railing, “What?”

She walked to the end of the stairs, curling her finger at him, “I need you to come back down here.”

His head tilted, but he didn’t argue. His steps prodded at the rug underneath and when he reached his mother, she was ushering him to sit down on their couch.

“I need to tell you something before you go up there.” She eyed him seriously.

“Did you redecorate my room?” He deadpanned, looking at her with faux disappointment.

She shook her head, “No, Osc, baby, it’s about Y/n.”

At the mention of his girlfriend, Oscar’s demeanor changed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned.

She shook her head, Chris coming to join them on the plush cushions, “Nothing’s wrong with her physically. More mentally. She’s really missed you, Oscar.”

He nodded as if it was obvious, “I’ve missed her too. What does this have to do with my room?”

“She’s in there.” Nicole’s words struck him, but she didn’t allow for questions as she continued, “A few months ago, she showed up here and she was… she was just so tired, Oscar. She was crying and telling us how much she missed you, how happy she was that you had fulfilled your dreams, how proud of you she was, but how, at the end of the day, she couldn’t bear not seeing you. There was nothing to do, but try and comfort her which was a hard feat within itself. Understandably so, I came to the conclusion it would be beneficial if she stayed in your room for a while. Get it? She missed you and the only thing I could think would help her was staying in a place that smelled like you, felt like you were there. So, that’s how we ended up here. She’s been living with us for the past few months.”

By the end of it, Oscar was deeply confused for one particular reason, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Chris sighed, seemingly signaling to his wife he would answer, “She didn’t want us to. Trust me, we tried, but she made us promise we wouldn’t. She didn’t want you to hear and then come back here in the middle of the season, jeopardizing how good you’re doing.”

He scoffed, “You still should’ve told me if she was struggling.”

Nicole landed her hand on his knee, rubbing softly, “Oscar, it was better to have her here and watch over her then drive her away by telling you. I would’ve loved to have both, but that wasn’t reality. Reality was that your father and I had to make a judgment call and we decided what was best. That was what was best. She’s gotten better. Sure, she still misses you, but, before, she was living all alone without anyone and I can only imagine how lonely she must’ve been. With her family moving away and everything, she really had no one to come home to when you had usually been there every time. We were able to give her that piece, so we did.”

Oscar’s mind calmed, realizing who he really needed to focus on, and he nodded at his parents.

“I understand, thank you.” He whispered, standing up and walking toward the stairs.

Nicole and Chris didn’t respond, instead watching as their son took two stairs at a time to get to his girlfriend faster.

When he was out of sight, his footsteps looming over them, Nicole whispered to her husband, “I can’t wait until they get married.”

—

His hand smoothed over the cool metal of his bedroom door, taking a moment to calm himself down before opening the door.

What he found was his lovely girlfriend asleep in his childhood bed, a sight that younger Oscar would go crazy for. The Australian shuffled in and closed the door lightly, placing his bags on the floor gently.

When he was ready, he tiptoed over to her side, sitting down and brushing his hand over her arm that stuck out from the comforter.

“My love, wake up.” He said softly, hand caressing up and across her cheekbone.

She stirred, deep in sleep, but settled back down after a few seconds. Oscar smiled warmly, leaning down and kissing her forehead, trailing down to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then meeting her lips lightly.

That seemed to wake her enough for her to realize someone else was in the room with her. Her eyes fluttered open and stared at Oscar for a second. He clocked the way she seemed to hesitate, wondering if it was really him. He wanted her to understand he was really here with her, so he kissed her once more, this time with more intention. His hand smoothed her hair back and when she began to kiss him back, hands falling onto his back, he pulled away.

“Hi, baby.” He said against her lips.

She didn’t say anything, mumbling something incoherent, before her eyes teared up. The shine of the tears falling down the side of her face had his hands coming to pull her up from her laid down position. He pulled their bodies upright, so he could suffocate her in the material of his hoodie and the lengths of his arms.

She cried into his chest, squeezing at his hips when he whispered how much he loved her, how much he missed her.

Oscar was tired from traveling and even though his eyes felt heavy, he still initiated the conversation he needed to have with her, “Why didn’t you tell me you were staying here? Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling?”

Her head stayed glued to the hardness of his body, “Because I’m not going to be the kind of girlfriend that can’t handle her boyfriend going away from time to time.”

“But, baby, it’s not from time to time. It’s every weekend. You’re entitled to struggle, I was struggling just as you were. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t help you and I can’t be the boyfriend I want to be for you.”

She nodded as she sniffled, “I guess, you’re right. I just don’t want you to think that you have to come back here every time you get a break. I want you to be able to travel and see what your job allows you to see. You’ve always loved to travel, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t pursue that to its fullest extent.”

“No, Y/n, I want to come back here every time I get a break. I know I love traveling, but I’m doing it so much now that when I do get time, I don’t want to spend it off somewhere foreign, I want to spend it with you.”

He took her silence as agreement, shifting the two of them in his arms so they could lie back down on his small bed.

In the darkness of the night, he watched her fall back asleep easily, wondering if that had been something she had had trouble with during their time apart like he did.

He was so enthralled with her finally being back in his arms, he didn’t realize how long he had been watching her sleep until the rising of the sun mocked him.

It was only when the commotion of his household began to erupt, Y/n waking up beside him and suggesting they sleep in a little longer, that he allowed himself to fall asleep right next to the girl who had missed him dearly.

The girl he had missed dearly.

#mclaren #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar pastry #op81 #mclaren formula 1

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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 months

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𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘀𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗺 ; 𝘭𝘩43 ୨୧

➪ summary: meeting luke was unexpected, but so was him wanting to come to every rehearsal and performance of hers

➪ warnings: reader has crappy parents, parents not showing up to events, lack of eating

➪ word count: 8.0k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: ahhhhhh the band fic that i will always remember staying up until like two in the morning to write because i was so proud of it. this is projecting 100% but this fic is so near and dear to me that i of course had to post it on my last day of high school band camp. a full circle :)

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Y/n always said she never minded, but Luke knew better. He knew that every time she looked out into those stands and saw the absence of her parents and siblings would always hurt her. She knew that marching band wasn’t the most entertaining thing in the world but the least they could do was be supportive. They sat through hours upon hours of baseball games where their sons wouldn’t even get a chance to go up to bat, they sat through hours and hours of concerts where they couldn’t even hear their daughters sing. But how come when it came to her, they wouldn’t spend even twenty minutes to see her on the field, a time they could actually see her do something?

Though, she told Luke over and over again that it didn’t bother her. She had her friends by her side who made the long Friday nights of football where their team would be getting crushed better, made basketball games where no one cared about whether or not they were there better, and made the excruciating heat better, who made the long bus rides and long days of competitions better. But who else was there to see that? No one, that was until she met Luke.

It was during their freshman year of high school, just as the football season was coming to a close and hockey season had started about two weeks ago. She was walking through the hallways on her way to the band hallway when she bumped into him, he was sweaty from gym, his curls straightening out in the slightest. As soon as she saw him she was slightly star-struck, she wasn’t in the tiniest bit prepared for this to happen, “Hi. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Luke thought she was pretty right off the bat, the way she seemed shy but talked loud, the way she fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist, the way her smile was awkward but genuine, much like his own.

The two stood in silence and then the warning bell rang, signaling that there were now two minutes to get to class. Luke and y/n looked startled by the bell, both of them had spaced out while looking at each other, “Oh, what do you have next?”

She looked up at him, surprised by the question, “Lunch, technically. And you?”

“Oh weird, I have lunch too. How come I’ve never seen you there?”

“I have band right now until the season is over. We go out for a period and a half to work on the show and then we get the last half of next period to eat lunch.”

“You only get 20 minutes to eat lunch?”

She nodded, a smile growing on her face, “Yeah. Um, I should probably go, but it was nice to meet you.”

She ran off, not allowing Luke to properly introduce himself. He was going to call after her but she was gone before he could think about the words to say. He went the rest of the day thinking about the interaction and her, and she did too. She allowed herself to be delusional for once, thinking about what it would feel like to have a boyfriend and for him to show up to her events.

The next day, she found herself rushing to the band hallway, having left her last class late. She was just about there when she heard a voice call, “Hey!”

At first, she didn’t realize it was her that the voice was talking to. She hadn’t remembered the last time someone had actively sought her out. However, once the voice called again she stopped and looked around and saw Luke standing there with a smile on his face, “Hi.”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“You have?” She looked confused and bewildered at the same time, moving to her locker to get her instrument.

He nods, leaning against the set of lockers next to her, “Yeah. For starters, I was wondering your name and if I could get your-”

He was cut off by a group of students coming up, saying excuse me so they could get to their lockers. She looks at him as her lock opens, handing it to him, “Thank you.”

She grabs her instrument and her shoes before grabbing the lock back and locking her locker. She ushers him to follow her, walking into the band room and throwing her stuff down. Luke talked to her as they walked, explaining how he wondered what her name was and if they could exchange numbers. Once again, she was taken by surprise and then saw her friends enter the room, “Um sure. What do you have next period?”

“Uh study hall.”

“Okay, cool. I’ll meet you in the library then?” She was changing her shoes and saw her friends approaching faster and faster, “See you later.”

She then pushed him out of the room through the nearest exit. Luke was lost as he was shoved into the hallway, watching her throw her hair into a ponytail as she walked away. He heard her tell her friends that she had forgotten a jacket and that she was going to freeze to death. He decided to wait for her, thinking about giving her the extra hoodie that he brought in case he forgot his own.

When she came walking out of the band room a few minutes later, he caught her arm and she turned around, “Hi?”

Her friends looked at her in amusement, eyebrows raising. They didn’t say anything, just walked away and left her there on her own, “I heard you say you were cold.”

“Um yeah, I’m fine though, thank you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind giving you this,” he held out the hoodie and she gazed at it with curiosity.

“Really?”

He nodded, encouraging her to take it, “I’ll give it back to you next period.”

He shrugged it off, not too worried about if she did decide to keep it. She walked away, heading outside while putting the hoodie on. She smiled at it being too big, it must’ve been one he got from his brothers or one he got in the wrong size. As she caught up with her friends, she could hear them talking about the boy she had just been talking to, still not knowing his name.

“What is it?”

“That’s Luke Hughes!”

“Who?”

“Luke Hughes?”

“Not ringing any bell here.”

“He’s a really good hockey player, and so are his brothers. Quinn, his oldest, is supposed to be drafted in next year’s draft, he just started college this year. And Jack, he’s a junior right now, everybody is saying he’s supposed to be drafted in two years.”

“And you all know this because?”

“Because the Hughes brothers are hot y/n/n. Actually, hockey men are hot, but three brothers? Come on.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, placing her things down on the turf, “Did he give you his hoodie?”

“Yeah…?” Her friends squealed, “Guys it’s not a big deal. He probably doesn’t like me. Do you remember the last time I dated someone, let alone someone who I liked that liked me back?”

“Yes.” Her friends said in a deadpan voice, “You talk about it all the time.”

“Well, I just think it’s worth mentioning since he thought the Earth was flat! And then the other guy I liked made me cry at homecoming! There is no way in the world that Luke Hughes, who, if he is who you say he is, would like me.”

The three friends eyed each other and then looked at y/n, “We’ll see about that.”

Band was slow that day as it usually was, they went over the one spot in song four that was troubling people the most. If they didn’t want them to struggle, they shouldn’t have given them choreography for eight counts right before a huge change in tempo and the hardest spot in the music. When it was over, she slugged her way back to the school, her legs ached and her arms too from holding up her instrument.

She put her things away, now walking to the library instead of going to lunch. She had work to do, and a test next period as well. When she got there she spotted Luke right away, he was scrolling on his phone, laughing every once in a while. She walked up to the table he sat at, placing her water bottle down and letting her backpack fall down to the ground with a thud. She plopped down into her chair with a groan and placed her head on her forearms.

Luke looked up from his phone from the moment the metal of her water bottle touched the table and watched the girl with amusement in his eyes, “Why hello there.”

“Hi.”

“Shouldn’t you be eating lunch?”

She sat up, “‘M not hungry. Plus I have to study for a test next period.

He nodded, shoving his phone into his pocket, “You want help?”

“Sure.” Y/n reached into her backpack and pulled out the green folder, “Bio?”

“The actual fucking death of me.”

Luke helped her study for the next twenty minutes, stopping occasionally just to look at her. The librarian was watching from afar, silently admiring the two. She knew that the two were going to end up together, there was something about the way Luke looked at her even if they had just met the day before. When she announced that there were five minutes left of the period, y/n started packing up and thanked Luke for his help.

“No problem, now I think you still owe me your number.”

“Oh right, give me.” She held out her hand for his phone to which he placed it in her hand.

She typed her number in and saved her contact name as ‘Y/n’ with a teddy bear emoji, “Why a teddy bear?”

“I don’t know, it was the first emoji I thought of.” Luke shrugged and texted her so she’d have his number too, “Save mine as Lukey with the honey emoji!”

“Honey?”

“Yes?”

“You’re a dork. No but actually why the honey emoji?”

“So that way our contact emojis are Winnie the Pooh,”

“That is the cutest and stupidest thing I have ever heard.” She stood up and immediately felt dizzy.

She placed a hand on the table and closed her eyes, “Are you okay?”

“Uh yeah, just a little dizzy. I’ll be fine.”

Luke looked at her apprehensively, he knew she wasn’t but he let it go. He walked her to class, neither of them noticing she was still wearing his sweatshirt, and wished her luck on the test. Over the next week and a half, the two texted each other non-stop with random updates on their lives and random conversations. It was now the next Thursday, a day before the last game of the season and everyone was excited as it was the rivalry game.

Luke and y/n sat next to each other outside after school, she had rehearsal later in the evening and Luke had said he wanted to stay with her. Jack had already left and he wasn’t going to leave her there alone. They sat at the picnic table outside of the school, she was working on homework as Luke scrolled on his phone occasionally glancing up at her.

She didn’t eat lunch again today and he wasn’t sure if it was because she wasn’t hungry or because she didn’t want to. When he noticed her eyes dropping he grew more concerned, “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m good. Why?”

“I don’t know, you just look like you’re not okay.”

“I should probably eat something, haven’t been able to yet.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t eat breakfast, it makes me sick and lunch well after band and only have twenty minutes to eat, my appetite is practically non-existent.”

“You wanna walk to the store?”

“Sure.”

The two got up and set out to the store, making jokes along the way. She was wearing one of Luke’s sweatshirts, he had given it to her earlier today when he found out she had once again forgotten her own. Luke had only met her a week ago and he was protective of her. There was something about her that just made him want to shield her from everything harmful that could come her way.

Luke offered to pay for her food as they checked out but she declined even after giving minutes of them just standing there and Luke pestering her. An old lady who was checking out next to them looked at them fondly, “You should let him pay, dear. It’s not every day that someone is going to come around begging for you to let them pay.”

Y/n felt butterflies appear in her stomach, looking between the lady and up at Luke. She finally nodded, accepting her fate and letting Luke pay. She thanked him endlessly as they walked back to the school, linking arms with him as she could feel herself getting dizzy again, “So what are you doing this weekend, Hughes?”

“Hockey probably, but I’d have to look. What about you?”

“We got a band competition, it’s kind of like state for us.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

She shrugged, not really wanting to go, “It’s gonna be a long day and my- never mind.”

“No, what is it?”

She shook her head, sitting down and taking the food out of her bag. Luke looked at her confused, saddened by her sudden mood drop. He could tell that she didn’t want to talk about it but he was nosey, and he really wanted to know, “Come on. You can tell me.”

She sighed, “All of my friends’ parents are going and my parents don’t even bother to show up to football games. They only bother to show up for the kids that could do something successful.”

Luke was foreign to the way she was feeling, well for the most part. He didn’t know what it was like for his parents to not show up for games, sure they couldn’t come to every game but they came to games that they could make it for and the important ones. He understood what it felt like to be overshadowed, however, not that he really was. It was more of a thought rather than an actuality.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you feel sorry for me. Don’t, please.”

“I’m not.” She raised an eyebrow but stopped the conversation.

“How are you getting home tonight?”

“My friend is taking me.”

“Let me take you.”

“Luke, you can’t even drive.”

“No I know that but I’ll stay here and then-”

She laughed, interrupting him, “You are not going to stay here for another two and a half hours, Luke.”

“And why not?”

“Because you have to go home, I’m surprised you even offered to stay here with me until rehearsal started.”

“But I want to be.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just want to be there for you.”

She gave him an awkward smile, shocked once again by his actions and words. She pondered about what to do, she didn’t want him to have to stay later than he already had offered. On the other hand, it felt nice knowing that someone wanted to be there for her, to go to her activities for her even if it was just a practice.

She carefully eyed him up and down, “Okay, but keep in mind I wasn’t the one who made you stay.”

He smiled and held his hands up in surrender. He followed her as she walked through the school to the band room, stopping at her locker to grab her instrument and other things. He followed her through the band room and out the doors to the football field, looking like a lost puppy. She sat with her friends as they waited for football practice to be over, Luke sitting behind her on his phone.

“So, why is he here?”

“Why is who here?”

Her friends gestured with their heads to the boy who sat a couple of feet behind them, “Him.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He said he wanted to come.”

“Oh my god, y/n! This means you can finally get over-”

“Shut up. He doesn’t like me and I don’t like him, it’s simple. Plus, I haven’t liked… you know who, for a while. I don’t even think I liked him in the first place.”

“Uh huh, sure. You are in delusion, my friend. And you have convinced yourself that neither of you has feelings for each other. No one wants to be at a band rehearsal, not even the people in band want to be here, and Luke Hughes wants to be here? For you?”

“It’s nothing, can we just drop it?”

“Yeah, yeah. So I heard that Sydney and Max were having sex in the practice rooms.”

Y/n spit out her water causing Luke to look up from his phone, slightly chuckling, “You what?”

“So is this what you guys do all the time before practice?”

“Rehearsal. And if by ‘this’ you mean sitting around and talking about the band drama, yes.”

“Am I allowed to be let in on it or is it strictly like ‘band kids’ only.”

One of y/n’s friends looked at him, “Don’t call us band kids. And of course, you can join us. Any friend of our dear y/n is welcome.”

Y/n glared at the girl as she heard Luke moving closer. Luke felt bold as he wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist, watching as her eyes widened. She didn’t say anything, didn’t move, she just sat there slightly terrified. She looked in between her friends who smirked at her in response. Luke sat there smug, waiting for them to start talking, “So. What’s this about who and who having sex in the practice rooms?”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Luke could honestly say this was the longest he had willingly gone without his phone, including hockey practice. He had sat in the stands the whole time, eyes trained on y/n no matter where she went. If she was backfield, that’s where he would be staring, if she was on the left side of the field, that’s where he would be staring.

He watched as she grew increasingly tired from the multiple reps of just one move they made them do, he honestly thought he could do it himself at this point. He was in awe, really, he never knew how much time and effort the band put in to do a seven-minute show for people who didn’t care about it. Everyone looked exhausted and he wasn’t sure if they were just done with band or just actually tired, or both.

There was one moment during rehearsal when he saw y/n lug herself over to where the band directors were and talk with them. A minute after that he watched as she took a seat on the bench and watched her fellow band members. He was confused and worried, wanting nothing more than to walk over there and ask her what was wrong but he promised her that he wouldn’t interrupt her no matter what.

She was embarrassed, she had felt his eyes on her the whole time. She didn’t know why he wanted to be here, it gave her an unfamiliar feeling in her stomach, one of feeling important for once. Her friends made little nudges and jokes at her for the three hours they were on the field, only shutting up when they were yelled at. When they were talking at the end of rehearsal, she couldn’t help but continue to look over at him, causing her to be startled when she realized she was picked to give the speech today.

“Hi everyone! Um, good rehearsal tonight, this season has been absolutely amazing and I hope you all feel the same way. I don’t think there’s anything else to say other than tomorrow is game day!” She paused as everyone whooped around her, “And we have our competition on Saturday so let’s make these next few runs of the show our best, and let’s go home because I’m tired.”

They all listened as the band directors gave their final announcements, call time for Friday and Saturday, the itinerary, and whatnot. When it was over, Luke met her at the entrance of the gate and reached out to take something of hers but she shook her head, “I’m good, thank you though.”

He awkwardly pulled his hands back and nodded, walking beside her into the school, “Are you sure your brother is okay with taking me home? I don’t want to inconvenience you guys and Stella said it was okay to take me home.”

He shook his head, “Of course, you can. You’re not inconveniencing anyone. I promise.”

She gave him a genuine smile, “Thank you, Luke.”

“Anytime.”

She put her things away, saying goodbye to her friends before walking out of the school with Luke. They stood at the entrance, Luke trying to spot his brother’s car, and when he did he turned to her, “Just give me one moment.”

She nodded, confusion written on her face as she watched him run over to the car.

“Hey, I thought we were taking your girlfriend home.”

“One, not my girlfriend. And two, can you please not embarrass me or her? She’s really uncomfortable around new people.”

Jack could see the way his younger brother was panicking, “Yeah, sure.”

Luke thanked him and then ran back over to y/n, taking hold of her hand and dragging her to the car. He opened up the back passenger side door and allowed her to climb in, him climbing in after her. She looked between him and the front seat, “I thought you would’ve sat up there.”

“Trust me, I know how awkward it is to ride in the back of someone’s car when you only know one person.”

The car was silent for a minute, y/n trying to think of something to say besides directing Jack to her house. She figured she should probably say thank you to him even though everything else in her was yelling at her not to. She was never the best at making conversation with people, let alone with people she didn’t know.

“Thank you for taking me home, I’m sorry it was such a last-minute thing.”

Jack glanced up at her through the rearview mirror, “No problem, honestly.”

She gave him an awkward smile, nodding and redirecting her gaze to outside the car window. Luke’s hand slowly made its way over to her lap as he took ahold of her hand again. She didn’t move her head, simply just squeezing his hand back as a thank you.

When they got to her house, she thanked Jack once again before getting out of the car. Luke jumped out and told his brother to wait for him as he went to talk to her, “Hey!”

She stopped in her tracks at the voice and turned around, arms coming to wrap themselves around her as she shivered from the cold, “What’s up?”

“I’m going tomorrow.”

“To where?”

“You’re game.”

Her cheeks reddened at the confession, “It’s not my game.”

He threw his head back and groaned, “You know what I mean.”

She giggled a little, “Yeah. You don’t have to Luke, I mean you came to our practice which was more than enough for me. You didn’t even have to come for that.”

He took both of her hands this time into his own, “I know but I really want to. Pleaseeeeee.”

“Okay fine. But no complaining again.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

He saluted her as she walked up the steps to her door, making sure she got in okay before even thinking of turning back to the car. On the way home, Jack made digs at his brother for being whipped for the girl he had only known for a little more than a week. When it went quiet for two minutes, Luke mulled over the idea of her competition on Saturday and what she had told him.

“Do you think Mom and Dad would let me go to y/n’s competition on Saturday?”

“Depends on where it is.” Jack turned onto their street, not even bothering to glance at him until he said where it was.

“Michigan?!”

“What? It’s not that far.”

“Dude it’s three hours!”

“Okay, but we can see Quinn too.”

Jack eyed him carefully, “You can ask them but don’t expect a yes.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

“Can we please go?”

“Luke.” Ellen’s tone was sympathetic but stern as she talked to him, “We can’t just drive three hours, especially on this short notice to a band competition. I mean we haven’t even met this girl, have we?”

“No, but. I figured we could make a little trip out of it! We can see Quinn and you guys can hang out with him while I’m there so that way you don’t have to sit through bands because I know for a fact that you don’t want to. And plus, I know you haven’t met her but she’s super nice, Mom.”

Ellen looked conflicted but Luke’s next words broke her heart and tipped her over the edge, “She has no one going to support her.”

“Fine, we can go. But this is the last time you can ask us for stuff for a while.”

“What?!”

The three laughed as they heard Jack’s shocked voice echo through the house.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Luke sat happily with a few of his friends at the football game, two sweatshirts on due to the cold. The stands were packed with parents, students, and siblings as they cheered on their football team, yelling out random chants at the other team. There was a clashing of colors as some of the rival school’s people made their way over to their side of the stands. On the opposite side of the field, the opposing team’s student section was packed to the brim, almost filling up half of the stands.

He sat on the edge of the student section, right where there was caution tape separating the band and the rest of the student population. He had glanced over there a few times, trying to find y/n but he had no look. Finally, when someone he knew was close enough he yelled out her name, “Stella!”

Stella, one of y/n’s friends turned her head quickly and her eyes immediately landed on Luke, “Hi, Luke. What brings you to this fine occasion?”

“Where’s y/n?”

Stella somewhat grimaced, “Last I heard she wasn’t feeling well and was on her way to the bathroom.”

Luke’s eyes flooded with concern, “Is she okay?”

She merely shrugged and went to say something but one of her friends came up and joined the conversation, “Hey guys!”

The two-eyed Lee who was frankly too happy to be at a high school football game, “Have you seen y/n?”

“Oh yeah! She was getting some water, and said she felt better. I think she was coming up-”

“Hi.”

The three then looked at the girl who stood awkwardly, her hair sweaty in her high ponytail from being in the shako for too long. She looked paler than normal, her eyes looked tired and were accompanied by the dark circles beneath them, “I didn’t actually think you would come.”

He stood up, looking around him before climbing over the caution tape, “Of course I did.”

Stella and Lee walked off, leaving the two to talk amongst themselves, “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I just get nervous for games and get extremely drained.”

He nodded, watching as she flipped through her music to find the song they were supposed to be playing the next time they were able to play, “What’s that?”

“It’s my flip folder, it holds all of our stand tunes that we play during timeouts or between quarters or whenever the play stops. How come you're so interested all of a sudden?”

“I was just curious.” He held his hands up in surrender and she laughed, “Such a dork.”

Throughout the game, Luke listened to her play in awe, he could tell her voice was becoming more and more horse as she screamed and cheered. He didn’t realize how much the band actually contributed during games, they definitely did more than the student section did, that was for sure. When they left for halftime, she made Luke hold her things which he didn’t mind doing.

He watched their performance intently, his eyes moving to wherever y/n was standing. He realized that most people had left during halftime, especially during the band’s performance and he couldn’t understand why. The band was pretty good, definitely better than their football team. When they were done, he watched as she somewhat stumbled off the field, not sure if she was tired, excited, or sick.

She was hugging her friend's arm tightly, “I can’t believe that was our last halftime of the year.”

“Hey, we still got three more years of this left.”

“Ugh, I know. Don’t remind me.”

“So how’s your little boyfriend up there?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “Not my boyfriend!”

“Okay, seriously, y/n/n. When was the last time you saw anybody’s boyfriend or girlfriend or partner that wasn’t in band go to a football game for band, let alone a practice?” She merely shrugged, wanting nothing more than to stop this conversation.

“When you realize I’m right, I’ll be waiting to say ‘I told you so’.”

She groaned, “Stop. Please. I just want to enjoy the friendship, I haven’t had one like this in years.”

“Okay.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After the game she found Luke standing on the steps to the school. She was shocked, she thought he would’ve already gone home due to the time. She sat down beside him and nudged his shoulder, “Hey.”

Luke looked up quickly, a smile making its way onto his face, “Hi.”

“What are you still doing here?”

“Partially I’m waiting for you but also I have to wait for Jack or my mom.”

She nodded, understanding. She was too tired to care that her head was slowly leaning to one side, ultimately giving up and letting it rest on his shoulder. Luke was shocked by the added pressure on his shoulder but didn’t mind it, truthfully.

He smiled down at her and looked for the car, “How are you getting home?”

She let out a yawn as she tried to answer, “I don’t know.”

Luke looked at her bewildered, “You don’t know?!”

She nodded, still keeping her head on his shoulder, “Yeah.”

“You want us to take you home?”

“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Too bad. You’re coming with us.”

This time she didn’t protest and just waited for him to say that whoever was here to pick him up was here. Luke debated on whether or not to tell her that he was going to go tomorrow. He decided to be quiet, formulating a plan on how to surprise her tomorrow. His mom pulled up a few minutes later, watching as he soon lightly shook the girl who was leaning on him awake.

Luke helped y/n to the car, allowing her to get in first like he did the previous night, “Hi Mrs. Hughes. I’m y/n. I’m so sorry about this, I wasn’t planning on your son being so persistent about taking me home.”

At this Ellen chuckled, “Of course he was. It’s no problem, honey.”

Y/n directed Ellen to her house, making small talk with her as a way to keep her awake, “So, Luke tells me you have a competition tomorrow.”

She side-eyed Luke before answering, “Yeah, at the University of Michigan. It’s kind of like state for band I guess.”

Ellen nodded, “Did Luke tell you we are going there too this weekend?”

“No, he did not.”

“Yes, well, his older brother goes there and we figured it would be nice to go visit him.”

“Oh that’s cool, I didn’t know that.”

She pulled into the driveway a few minutes after that and the two said goodbye to one another and Luke, like last night, walked her to the door, “Why didn’t you tell me you were going there?”

“I was going to surprise you actually.”

She looked at him suspiciously, “Well, if you have time, let me know and you should come see us.”

“Are you telling me to come watch you guys?” He said teasingly.

“Just this once.”

“I’ll be there.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

At the stadium the next day, y/n had found Luke after they performed and they sat together as they watched the rest of the bands perform and the awards. Despite having just done a 7-minute show in her band uniform, she was cold and her sweatshirt provided the least amount of warmth.

Luckily, Luke had brought an extra sweatshirt and a blanket just for this, knowing how much she got cold. She took it gratefully, wasting no time in throwing it on. Luke asked her questions about certain things in the others’ performances, what songs they were, and what moves they were doing. At one point they got bored and started writing different show names in the programs for each band.

When awards came around, she was getting increasingly tired, “I have a question.”

“Go for it.”

“Do you wanna meet my family?”

Y/n looked at him with wide eyes, “Meet your what?”

“My family. Well, you’ve already met Jack and my mom but Quinn and my dad you haven’t.”

“Luke…”

“What?”

She held tears in her eyes as she thought over his words. Luke frowned when he noticed the tears, “What’s wrong?”

“Luke, we've only known each other for what? A week and a half at best?”

“Yeah…?”

“I guess, I just don’t understand why you want me to meet them.”

“Because you’re amazing. And like you said, I know I’ve only known you for a week and a half, but you are truly one of the best friends, if not the best friend, I have ever had. You’re talented, smart, funny, and I love spending time with you.”

She looked at him shocked, not knowing what to say. No one had said this to her before, and if they had it wasn’t to this extent. Luke was truly perfect in her opinion, he was nice, charming, funny, cute, supportive, and he was everything she would ever want. However, she knew him liking her was never a possibility, she had to push that to the back of her mind, the furthest away.

She gave him an awkward smile, unsure of how this conversation was going to continue. She was still taken aback by his previous confession, about wanting to meet his family. She loved her family, she really did, but Luke’s family sounded amazing, like heaven. She hadn’t felt a part of her family in months, maybe she would feel like family with his. That thought seemed to be a bit much, she didn’t think she would fit in with anyone, it was by pure luck that she found Luke.

When the two had sat in silence for five minutes, Luke gave her a little shove, “Hey. Everything okay?” The desperate want to ask her what was going on in her beautiful mind was bugging him, he wanted to reach out and push the stray hair out of her face, wipe away her tears, and pull her into a death-gripping hug.

She only nodded, using the sleeve of his her sweatshirt to wipe away the stray tear that had made its way down her face. Luke had felt his face permanently stuck in a worried look when he was around her and this moment wasn’t any different. Just when he was about to say something, the announcer rang out through the speakers, “And with that, it is time for our awards! Thank you to everyone who came out and let’s get this started with class single A!”

She turned to face the field, ignoring Luke’s eyes that she felt glaring at her on the side of her head. She listened to the awards, little to no thoughts running through her head until they got to their division. They went through the typical awards you get at every competition, best drum major, best visual, best general effect, etc., before getting into placement awards.

While she wasn’t expecting them to place in general with all the schools that were there, she was a little heartbroken when they didn’t get third or second. All of them knew that there was no possible way that they could get first, they were hopeful, sure, but realistic even more. So when they announced their high school not only first but as grand champion, everyone from the school was ecstatic.

Luke immediately brought her into a hug, not even thinking. He was so proud of her, and the rest of them, but mostly her. She grinned when she felt his arms wrap around her, not even bothering to be embarrassed. She hugged him back with the same amount of strength that he gave her.

They met up with Luke’s family outside the stadium, she was now tired, the day’s events finally catching up with her. Luke had to wrap an arm around her to keep her upright as they walked to the car. Ellen greeted the girl with a smile as she stepped out of the car and opened her arms for a hug. Y/n was taken aback, she had met this woman two days ago and she was now just giving her a hug so easily.

She hugged her back nonetheless, “How was the competition, sweetheart?”

“It was good. We won grand champions.”

“Oh honey, that’s incredible! I’m sorry we couldn’t make it.”

She shrugged it off, she was used to her family not showing up and she hadn’t even met the whole family properly so why would she think they would, “It’s okay.”

“Well, we’re going out to dinner if you want to come, maybe? I know Luke said that your way back is with the rest of the kids but we are more than happy to take you home ourselves.”

Her eyes widened at the position, “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a-”

“Shush. You’re not a burden, y/n/n.” Luke’s hand squeezed her shoulder as a way of reassuring her.

“Okay then. I guess Luke’s going to kidnap me anyway.”

“Damn right, I am,” Luke mumbled but Ellen still caught it, smacking him on the arm.

Y/n grinned as she watched the interaction, trying to stifle a laugh. Luke rolled his eyes and opened the back door, “Y/n/n you already know Jack but this is my eldest brother Quinn.”

She gave him a small wave, the nerves presenting themselves once again. Quinn waved back, smiling at her, “And this is my dad.”

“Hi, Mr. Hughes.”

Jim turned to her and smiled much like his son, “Hi.”

The two climbed into the car, sitting in the back. Her head immediately found its place on his shoulder, drifting off to the sound of the family softly talking as they drove to wherever they were heading to. Luke smiled down at her, and in that moment, it made Luke realize more than ever that he wanted to be there for her forever.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Throughout their high school years, Luke went to every football game he could manage to go to, every competition he could, every practice he could, even going to the few basketball games she had to perform at. Junior year, he drove himself to her competition at the University of Michigan, being able to drive them back home without having to worry about his parents.

Luke wasn’t the only one who showed up. The Hughes family had taken a liking to her ever since they met her and Ellen and Jim had practically adopted her from the moment they took her home from the competition freshman year. Jack tagged along with Luke to the games when he was still in high school, sometimes Ellen and Jim would show up too. They all went to their graduation not only for Luke but for y/n as well, it’s rumored that they cheered louder for her than for Luke.

Luke asked her out a month after asking her to homecoming. Everyone said his homecoming and prom proposals were a force to be reckoned with. He always had a way to surprise her and upstage everyone. In sophomore year for homecoming, he got the band to play ‘hey baby’ and he asked her with a poster that said ‘hey baby. I wanna know if you’ll be my date to Hoco.’ Junior year for prom he got a punch of hockey pucks and spelled out ‘Prom?’.

On the flip side, y/n had made it her mission to support Luke just as much as he supported her. She went to practically every game of his, cheering him on whether or not he got a goal, assist, or just sat on the bench. She wore his sweatshirts at every game, which most of them had belonged to her at that point anyway. Admittedly, there were a few times when Quinn or Jack’s hoodies made their way into the pile because Luke had “accidentally” stolen them from them.

Much like they were there for her, y/n was also there for Jack and Quinn. She was at Quinn’s draft because they had all but begged her to come and the same with Jack. That was the first time she felt part of the family. She would go with them to UMich when they would go see Quinn. She spent the majority of her time with them since that weekend.

They went to the University of Michigan together, where they both continued to give each other their unwavering support. He went to ‘her’ football games and she went to his hockey games, the ones that she was not performing at, which were her favorites, and Luke’s as well. When Luke realized that she would be playing at his games he had been so excited. Every time he got a goal when she was there with the band, he would point over to her and her friends would fawn over their relationship.

She was there for his draft, sitting right next to him but out of the way so he could celebrate with his brothers. She was there for the playoff games once she had finished school and he was overjoyed by her being there. As much as she wanted to be there for his debut and for his rookie season, Luke made her stay at school, not even so much as allowing her to think about it.

Long distance for them was hard, but they made it work. When they were in Detroit or Columbus, she would drive to see him play. Over winter break, she would fly out to Jersey to spend her time with him. Luke took it harder than she did, to be honest. She was used to being alone in some sort of way, her experiences and feelings with her family had not gone away. But for Luke, it was a different story.

Sure he had his brother there by his side but his best friend, his girlfriend, his world wasn’t there beside him like she had been for the past four years. It was a different dynamic not being able to see her in the stands, not being able to celebrate with her after games or pig out on food at a restaurant after practice, not being able to curl up next to her when they lost or he was in a slump.

After she graduated, she moved out to Jersey with him, knowing that she would follow him anywhere. Luke was grateful but hesitant at first, not wanting to alter any of her plans. She insisted and said he had done so much for her that this was the least she could do to repay him. Luke asked her to marry him a year later and he incorporated his two favorite proposals of all time.

He gathered a shit ton of pucks to spell out “Will You Marry Me?” on a football field and got a marching band, who in hindsight y/n had no clue how he got in the first place, to play ‘Hey Baby’ as he gave her his speech. She was crying within seconds and Luke knew she would too. Ellen and Jim walked her down the aisle since she was no longer in contact with her own family.

There were a multitude of things that changed with them, a multitude of fights that they got into, but one thing never changed. The way were each other’s support systems, and they would be forever and ever.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

•❅ 《 𝘉𝘖𝘕𝘜𝘚 𝘚𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘌 》 ❅•

Luke was nervous, it had been creeping up on a year since he met y/n and 11 months since he realized he liked her. They had been flirting like teenagers because they were, but it was a sight to see, to say the least. Everyone had said they acted like a couple and accused the two of liking each other but every time the two brushed off the accusations like they were nothing.

Now he was sitting with some of her friends and one of the drum majors to explain his plan. This was his only chance to do it, they only had one game before homecoming and it happened to be two weeks before the homecoming game. He would’ve done it earlier but he needed everything to be perfect, plus, y/n hated dress shopping anyway so she would probably just order something from Amazon or pull something out of the back of her closet.

Her friends agreed instantly, claiming they hadn’t seen their friend be so happy and giggly in a long time. So when the time came around, he was dressed in whatever the theme was for the game. He looked a little crazy but that was him, and y/n loved that side of him. His poster included her favorite colors and doodles, the words were as straight as they were going to get.

It was in between the first and second quarter and the drum major had told them they were playing ‘Hey Baby’ and everyone except for y/n was on edge, wanting this to be perfect. When it started, she noticed nothing different, everyone was clapping but when they started singing, she noticed everyone’s tone was happier.

She felt a nudge to her side and she looked up, noticing Luke now standing on the drum major podium, his poster high above his head, “Y/n! Will you go to homecoming with me?!”

She stared at him with wide eyes, embarrassment flooding her whole body. Everyone looked at her expectantly and cheered when she said yes. When he got down, he made his way over to her, everyone clapping him on the back.

“You are crazy, Luke Hughes.”

“Crazy for you.” She pushed his head away from her and laughed, “Dork.”

𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗝𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43 @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943 @dyslecticdutchman

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shawnxstyles · 1 year

Text

panty stealer 2

DATE: JULY 12, 2023

summary: after the forbidden and surprising night of the ‘break-in’, you couldn’t get your mind off of peter. luckily, he couldn’t either, and finds his way back into your bedroom to invite you to a party.

requested: so many times yes!

words: 11.2k!! woah

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral, masturbation, vibrator], praise kink, degrading kink, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, mentions of marjuana/alcohol, and fluff

note: this was the most anticipated and loved of all my writings! i’m so thankful for everyone who liked part 1, i just had to write a part 2. enjoy!!! sorry if the gif is all weird again

—

so many thoughts flew through peter’s mind as he swung through the streets of massachusetts: what homework or projects he might have, you, class, praying flash doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s gone, you, hoping ned doesn’t have a panic attack from flash’s idiocy, and you you you.

he thought of your body and the way it felt underneath him while he pushed himself deep inside of you. and the whimpers you let out as you came. and the sound of your laughter through the palm of your hand. and the smile on your face as he kissed your forehead. he wished he had kissed you longer. he wished he had stayed longer. forever.

was that dramatic? maybe.

you were a recurring thought that never seemed to cease from his brain.

peter sees you around school sometimes—only on the days you two have class together. neither of you made an effort to approach the other, almost as if you expected the other person to do it first. you both sat far apart from each other, too afraid to move seats around and make it obvious. but peter’s gaze fell heavily over your shoulder too many times for you to not feel it.

every time you shifted around to face the back of the room, you watched him avert his wandering eyes to anywhere but you. it made you smile and giggle quietly behind your hand, and of course peter’s hearing picked up on the angelic sounds, causing his heart to skip against his ribs.

and then class would begin and you’d have to wait until next class to see him again.

peter wanted to go see you—talk to you. he really did. but he was so busy with school work and being spider-man that he didn’t have a night off. mid-terms were coming up, but that also meant thanksgiving break was in the rear view mirror. after halloween of course.

in college, halloween was like any other day. you didn’t get a day off to trick-or-treat and hang out with your friends. instead, you were given a pile of tests the week before.

not much of a treat, huh?

outside of college, however, people threw the best parties that night. one of those people obviously being peter. luckily, halloween was on a saturday, so everyone would be done with mid-terms and ready to party their asses off.

flash needed everyone and their mom to come for him to be satisfied (well, maybe not their moms). he’s going to blow up everyone’s phone telling them to invite every person they know. peter didn’t care who showed up. he knows that halloween is one of the biggest parties of the year (besides fourth of july). peter only wanted—no needed—one person to be there.

—

knowing it’s been weeks since he’s seen you and the party was only in a few days, peter had to come and see you. he had to make sure you got the invite. it was difficult to fit visiting you into his schedule, but like always, he made it work.

you were becoming important to him, a priority.

he would only be in and out because who knows what would happen if peter was caught in there? last time, flash got his car hit with a baseball bat. flash was so mad that he completely forgot about peter’s dare, even though it was the whole point of sneaking into the house. it was deserved, but peter didn’t want any of that happening to him. so, peter promised himself no funny business unless you were in his room.

ugh, but peter really didn’t want you around the frat boys. they were way too much.

the sky was pitch black besides the hint of stars that were sprinkled in the sky. it was a chilly, fall night that made peter want to cozy up and pass out in his bed. but he had more important things to do first.

after a boring night of patrol, peter sneaks into his room through his opened window. without making too much noise (unlike flash), he quietly changes out of his suit and packs it into his closet in a box labeled books. peter is certain that no one, especially flash, would ever open that box. so he fixes his appearance by adjusting his shirt in the mirror, checking his teeth, and messing with his wild hair. on impulse, he throws on a cap to better hide himself. with that, he jumps out his window once again, shutting it closed on his way down with his sticky fingers.

like he’s done once before, peter sneaks across the street to the forbidden sorority house. he stares at the windows; all darkened bedrooms, except for one. peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that single lit bedroom was yours, but he was willing to test his luck.

for you.

peering at his surroundings, peter flips his hat backwards and slowly crawls up the side of the house. his fingers latch onto the windowsill as he very slowly lifts his head over it. he notices that it’s slightly cracked open before his gaze is seering through the glass.

you have got to be fucking joking.

your body lays sprawled across your bed as a delicate hand wanders between your parted legs and slides your infamous panties to the side. your torso is covered in the same mit t-shirt from that night, draped over your lavish figure tantalizingly. a laptop plays a pornographic scene of some sort, headphones plugged in one ear.

god, he wanted to touch you so bad.

he wondered if you were thinking of him. recalling how his fingers caressed down your body and how they touched every inch of your skin. but you couldn’t be, right? it’s been weeks and peter hasn’t made a move. you’ve probably moved on from that night like nothing happened. peter should probably go, leave you alone during such an intimate time—

“mm, peter,” your angelic voice hums a quiet moan that was only loud enough for peter’s hearing. peter feels his cock twitch needily at your noises, hissing to himself as you whimper his name. “feels so good.”

well, that’s just like a goddamn invite.

using every skill he has learned from being spider-man, peter yanks open the window and creeps inside. you were too emerged in your fantasies; eyes screwed closed as you listened attentively to the ongoing video. you failed to notice peter’s looming presence over your bed, even with only one headphone in. your noises continued, spurring peter’s next actions on.

without saying a word, peter lays his hand over yours, which is rubbing cute circles over your clit. your movements freeze and your eyes fly open. your mind doesn’t register the sight before you, so your breathing stops and your lungs get ready to scream out every millimeter of oxygen in you. but peter slips his other hand over your mouth before you could alert the entire neighborhood of his presence.

peter could sense the erratic beating of your heart as your tense muscles very gradually soften once you realize it’s him. once you’ve calmed down enough to not scream, you take your free hand and lower peter’s from your mouth.

he came back.

“p-peter, i didn't know you were coming,” you weren't sure what to say. your mind was still spinning like a top toy and your heart was beating like a galloping horse. your skin was burning underneath him, full of embarrassment and immense desire. “a head’s up would have been nice…”

“i’m sorry for the interruption…” peter says, eyes dragging down your body. his hand moves above yours gradually. you inhale sharply as peter guides your hand.

“you don’t seem sorry,” you retaliate as the friction from your hand with the help of peter’s begins to rile your body up again. you feel the wetness seep from your cunt, aching and needy for more. for more of him.

“how come you’re so wet?” peter completely ignores you, and removes your hand from your pussy with a gentle toss. peter didn’t expect anything tonight, but he especially didn’t expect to find his little angel with her hands between her legs. you gasp when his fingers are directly touching you, instantly clenching around nothing. his fingers are a bit chilly, in contrast to your flamy skin. “is it from the video?”

“n-no,” you stutter between needy pants as his fingers threaten to sink into your pulsing hole. your legs spread wider for him, inviting him closer to you. you slam the laptop down with shaky fingers to show him that you no longer need it.

“then what’s got you so wet?” two fingers dip into your cunt to persuade you to talk, but it’s doing the opposite. you bite your lip to hide the traitorous moan that threatens to escape. heavy arousal coats your labia while he pumps in and out of you easily, waiting for an answer.

“i was thinking of you,” you admit, hips rolling into his touch greedily. “wondering if you’d ever come back.”

peter’s heart saddens at the thought of you waiting for him. this whole time peter assumed you forgot about him, when in reality, it was the exact opposite. and there was sticky evidence to prove it.

“i’m right here, angel. what were you thinking about?” his body leans down hovering over yours, causing your body to sink into the mattress.

“thought about you climbing through the window, just like you did. imagined you’d fuck me, like you promised,” you moan quietly between words, trying to sound cohesive. hearing you say such vulgar words has peter’s cock twitching in his pants. with peter, you weren’t afraid to be straight to the point and tell him what you want. peter admired that, and would probably do anything you asked him to.

“with time, i’m a man of my word, baby.”

close and personal, peter interlocks his lips with yours. your frolicking hands drift to his warm neck, caressing the nape as you melt into him. peter inserts a third finger into you, eliciting a muffled moan against his lips. the action opens up your mouth and allows peter to effortlessly glide his tongue inside.

his fingers ram into you at a deliriously fast pace, causing your mind to haze into a euphoric state. it was impressive how peter could be kissing you unforgettably, but also skillfully pleasuring you with his hands. peter seemed like a man full of secrets and skills that you were dying to know.

who is peter parker?

fogging up your mind, your muscles tense and your back continues to arch until your stomach is touching his. your legs threaten to close from the overwhelming pleasure from his fingers, but you battle to keep them wide. his mouth trails down your neck and attacks the sensitive skin below your ear. teeth digging into your lip, you withhold all of your noises that peter so desperately wants to hear.

“if we were alone, you wouldn’t be allowed to be quiet,” he husks in your ear before trailing further down your neck. his voice was every level of attractive, pushing you closer to the edge. peter continued to check off all of your invisible boxes of turn ons.

“i know,” your voice was delicate and strained, and peter could tell you were close.

your walls gripped his fingers eagerly, and your stomach tightened up. it was embarrassing that you were so close so fast, but you couldn’t hold it any longer. once his fingers curled one last time inside of you, you were a goner.

“come for me, baby,” he demanded quietly, so you did.

your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, drenched in blissful euphoria. peter worked you through your high by softly rubbing your legs and coaxing every last drop out of you until you were sensitive to the touch.

without having to ask, peter lowers himself to your mound and yanks your panties down and off your legs. he then cleans up your mess with his skillful tongue, licking and slurping all of your juices. your sensitivity causes you to be squirmy, but he’s done before you know it and then you’re left reminiscing.

although he was right in front of you, you missed his touch already. you missed him inside of you because it made you feel connected, intertwined. you didn’t want him to leave you again for weeks and come back on a random week day. or even worse, never again at all. you hoped that it didn’t become a pattern because you were getting attached to him, whether you liked it or not (you did), and that wasn’t a healthy pattern to be attached to.

peter’s body hovers over yours once again, held up by his muscular arms. your eyes attach to every detail on his face, admiring and memorizing his features in fear that he’ll leave again. he gazes at you like a living daydream, ethereal underneath him. one of his hands caresses your supple cheek, lightly swiping away your frisky hair. you practically purr into his touch, melting at his gentleness.

“peter,” you start, voice as fragile as thin glass.

“y/n.”

“please, don’t leave,” you insist in a whisper, hoping he’d stay. but you know he can’t.

“you know i can’t,” he says as you begin to sit up. see?

“when will i see you again? you can’t just… show up at any time,” you huff, sitting up straight as peter takes a seat beside you.

“i know i know…” peter thinks for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “here. you can put your number in my phone.”

your heart skips a simple beat. you extend your arm to snatch your phone on your nightstand before hesitatingly grabbing peter’s. you switch devices and enter your numbers. you label your name as ‘y/n :)’ and then you trade back phones, but don’t look at them.

“c’mere,” peter says and you curl your body into his. his warmth was addicting and cozy, and could easily make a great pillow for the future. “i’m sorry for not coming back sooner. i’ve been pretty busy with… everything i guess. i should’ve told you.” with your head cradled in his chest, he kisses your rumpled hair genuinely.

a sweet apology. could he get any better? is he just a figment of my imagination?

you lift up your head so you could see him looking down on you. “apology accepted, parker. but i feel like i’m being manipulated with your kisses.”

“how was i supposed to know you’re a sucker for forehead kisses?”

“everyone is a sucker for forehead kisses!” you whisper yell causing him to laugh wholeheartedly as quiet as possible. he kisses your head a few more times, making your heart full of affection and care.

how did you get lucky enough for peter parker to fall into your life? or more specifically, break into your house on two accounts?

“you never fulfilled your promise,” you said, referring to him having sex with you. don’t misunderstand, you were very grateful for what he gave you, but to be direct… you were greedy, needy, and missed his dick.

no time for beating around the bush.

“like i said, with time, i’m a man of my word,” which, in other words, means he’s not having sex with you. tonight, at least. you can’t help the small frown that appears on your lips.

“how much time? a girl has needs, you know,” you rose your eyebrows and pointed towards the closed laptop. peter puffed under his breath, causing you to smirk.

“there is a party this saturday… at my place. you should come,” peter informs.

“should i come or do you want me to come?” it was a test.

“if this is some sexual innuendo, yes—”

“jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, peter!” you roll your eyes and softly shove his chest, but a smile never ceases from your face. that only causes him to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you harder against his firm body.

he must live at the gym.

“you started talking about sex first!”

he’s not wrong.

“of course, i want you to come to the party, y/n,” peter smiles as his eyes wandering over every inch of your face. in any other scenario, gorging eyes would’ve made you feel insecure, but peter’s made you feel all flushed and tingly. “you’re the only person i want to be there.”

your smile enlarges even more and a rush of heat crawls up your neck. instead of kissing his lips for being such a romantic goofball, you decide to pull off his backward cap and kiss his forehead. the rosy blush that cascades his pale cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed.

“see! everyone likes forehead kisses!”

just as you say those words, peter hears footsteps padding across the hallway. he really didn’t want to leave you again, but he also really didn’t want to get caught. he sighs and you notice his change of demeanor, causing another frown to arise on your lips.

“you have to go, don’t you?”

“i’m sorry—”

“it’s okay. i’m glad you came. i’ll see you on saturday,” you smile genuinely and kiss his forehead again. he smiles, but catches your luscious lips instead. peter almost forgot about the footsteps, always lost in the moment with you.

he is obsessed with kissing you.

however, the moment is too short for both of your liking. peter struggles to pull himself away from you, but does because each footstep in the hallway is like a warning. with a finally kiss to your forehead, peter smiles endearingly before approaching your window, ready to jump out.

“oh, and peter?” as his hands are on the window, he turns around to look at you. “don’t forget these.”

you fling your panties at him and his quick reflexes have no problem catching them. you take his hat that he left on your bed and lay it on top of your head. peter cannot describe the fond feeling that bubbles up in his chest at the sight of you in his apparel. he’s sure he would die seeing you in his clothes if he’s starstruck from you in his cap.

a familiar heated flush blossoms on his cheeks as he lightly shakes his head with a few chuckles.

“you’re ridiculously cute,” is the last thing he says before he slides out the window and jumps down onto the ground.

ridiculously cute. you’ve never been called that before. are you surprised that you like it a lot? nope.

you still don’t understand how he doesn’t break a few limbs from jumping out of a two-story house, but again, that’s just one of the many things he’s skillful at. you wondered what else he was capable of. like you said, he seemed like a man full of secrets. some people thought of curiosity as a curse, but you saw it as a pathway to unknown opportunities.

not even a minute after peter left, there’s a knock at your bedroom door. you answer, skeptical, and one of your friends walks in.

“i know we’re not allowed to have any guys here, so you get kind of lonely, but when you’re watching porn at midnight can you please turn it down? i could hear it at the end of the hall,” she rubs her eyes and elicits a yawn. your eyes widen and you swallow thickly at the idea of the entire house hearing you.

you really thought you did a good job at being quiet…

“uh, yeah, sure thing,” you half smile as you apologize and wish her a better goodnight. you flick your lamp off and shift comfortably on your bed.

you gaze at the ceiling and imagine peter’s face above yours. you envisioned his lips, his cute nose, and each precious beauty mark on his face. it was easier to fall asleep knowing what his phone number was, and that saturday was only three days away.

—

those three days could not have been longer. the party was your motivation to wake up every day and go to class, eager as ever. you only saw peter once at school and that was not enough to satisfy the yearning you had inside of you. that yearning was also like an alarm clock that sprung you out of bed at eight a.m. on saturday.

you knew you had hours to waste, so you did all the things you had been procrastinating on: laundry, tidying up, few assignments due next week, and you even dusted parts of the house. yeah, you were that bored.

you weren’t sure what time the party started, but you would probably be able to tell from your window. you had no idea what you were going to wear even though you were thinking about it since wednesday. you believed you had a good sense of style, at least to your liking, but you don’t have all the clothes that you wish you had. living on a college budget wasn’t easy, but you made do.

at this point, it was only two in the afternoon, and you were about to run into the wall until your head was bleeding just to waste more time. this was the downside to having a ridiculously big crush on someone; the inescapable waiting. when crushing, time seems prolonged when you’re without them. but when you’re with them, the world seems to stop completely. it’s like nothing matters but just you two.

you remembered back to wednesday when peter was sitting on your bed and holding you snug against his body while you talked about such a mundane thing like a party invite. you could never erase the feeling of his kiss, his lips forever etched onto yours. the kiss felt like hours, but it was merely a minute before he had to pull away. you imagined what it would be like to just be with him without worrying about anything else. these daydreams cause the yearning in your chest to expand like a balloon, which is never going to satisfyingly explode until you’re in his arms again.

without making a big deal out of it, you needed a good outfit. so, you knocked on one of your “sister’s” doors. you weren’t a fan of the term “sorority sisters,” especially because none of these girls felt like sisters to you. yes, you were all decent friends who went to parties and went out to eat once a month together. but you weren’t as close to them as you were with your friends back at home. you missed them, but you’ve all moved on with your lives.

violet answers with a cheery come in and you walk into her room. you hint that you’re looking for a nice dress for the party tonight.

“i’m glad you came to me first,” she smiles as she stands up from her bed. she heads toward her closet, which is practically pouring out clothes that would laugh at yours. she had so many colors and choices, it was almost overwhelming and you weren’t even the one really choosing. “so. who’s the guy?”

“what? who said anything about a guy?”

“the fact that you want a nice dress for a frat party. you’ve never cared before, so it has to be a guy. so who is it?”

“it’s no one in particular,” you lie easily as you sit on her bed. she sifts through each dress in deep thought.

“so, you want a nice dress to catch any guy’s attention? i don’t buy it,” violet shakes her head, causing her long, black hair to wave.

not that you really care if she believes you, but what’s a believable lie? you know she’ll probably nag you about it the entire night if you don’t give her a valid excuse.

“if i’m being honest, i’m trying to, you know,” you raise your eyebrows high, motioning your hands as she whips around to face you. she nods as a knowing smirk grows on her lips. you weren’t technically lying–you did want to get laid, but you only had one person in mind that could do the job.

“i see. that’s all you needed to say,” she flips through more dresses before pulling out a short red one that makes your eyes widen. it looked nice, too nice, and you didn’t want to ruin anything she had because you’d probably spend the next few months paying to replace it. “let’s get you ready.”

“but the party is in–”

“nuh uh, we’re getting ready now. also, we’re making it into a costume.”

–

for once, you’re glad you listened to violet about getting ready early because it was already six o’clock by the time you guys were both finished. you somehow gave in to the idea of her dolling you up into some kind of sexy spider woman? you didn’t really know. she thought the red and blue accented your skin nicely. violet did what she wanted. you didn’t even plan on wearing a costume in the first place, so you didn’t really mind.

your hair was down and wavy. you had her short red dress on and white fishnet tights. she also gave you royal blue heels. she painted black webs on your eyes with eyeliner while you wore a matching red lipstick. it was a lot more than you expected to see on yourself when you looked in her vanity mirror. hopefully, the look is as attractive and alluring as violet says it is. meanwhile, violet dressed as “slutty catwoman” (her words, not yours).

and yes, violet was going. everyone at mit would be going. it was one of those annual parties that's been going on for years, even before your class was there.

you enjoyed that; traditions and routines. they created memories and showed the change through each generation. thinking back, you bet your ancestors would die of a heart attack if they saw the way you were dressed and the things people did at these parties. but none of those thoughts stopped you from leaving the sorority house and walking across the street to the frat party.

you hadn’t even walked in yet, and the music was booming throughout the neighborhood. through the blinds that failed to close, you could see the technicolor lights flashing in redirection. cars of every shade were parked for probably miles down the street, and you knew as the night went on the number of people would only increase.

violet walked in front of you, strutting through the door like she owned the place. you followed behind her almost cowardly, but you weren’t really looking for everyone’s attention anyway. just one.

however, you forgot that the whole reason violet believed you were wearing this dress in the first place was for that exact reason. so, when she realized your shyness, she turned around and shook all your nerves out of you. literally. she shook your shoulders until you were woozy and nearly stumbling over your heels (you are now wishing you wore sneakers). it was like you were already tipsy by the time she was done.

she dragged you towards the kitchen without any words, seeming as though you wouldn’t be able to hear them over the blaring music and loud chatter. bottles of liquor decorated the marble countertop along with blue and red solo cups, trashed like a 90’s high school movie. violet grabbed the first bottle she saw, pouring the dark liquid into a cup she somehow snagged.

“your turn,” she shoves the bottle and cup towards your body as a stranger bumps into you from the back. the place was getting packed, making it hard to find anywhere to breathe. “some liquid courage.”

“i’m okay. i will later, though,” you rejected, not liking the idea of being drunk when you had a goal in mind. by the end of the night, you really wanted to be in peter’s bed. but you hated the idea of being drunk while having sex, especially when you wanted to enjoy it. you only indulged in drunk sex when you really needed to get off and one; didn’t want to remember what happened, or second; didn’t want it to last longer than that night. mostly the latter.

you know what it feels like to be with peter, and you craved to feel like that again. just thinking about him made you feel a thousand different kinds of wonderful; heart racing, stomach swirling, core burning. you knew the second you found him it would be hard to keep your hands away.

–

peter finally decides to shuffle down his stairs for the first time tonight. when the roaring music began an hour ago, he knew the party had, too, but he didn’t feel like going down yet. he couldn’t help but peek out his blinds in his bedroom, waiting to see you crossing the street.

he swears he was in his bedroom for at least an hour, occasionally peeking out the window, impatiently waiting for your arrival. with a slight frown on his face, he realizes that you might not be coming.

why would you?

peter assumed that you just now noticed how creepy it was for him to sneak into your bedroom. twice. maybe all your smiles and kisses were just silent pleads to make him leave the room faster. but your laugh seemed so genuine, and the sweet, little noises that you muffled under your palms were from real pleasure. right?

you were moaning his name.

he imagined you strutting across the street in a jaw-dropping dress, one that would send him into a frenzy. but you would be too humble and would shrug it off like you were the most average person on earth. peter would scoff and take you into his arms and drag you up into his room. then he would admire you until you believed you were the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.

open mouth kisses etched on your naked body. bites and pinches of tease. your sweet hums and delicately broken moans. nails clawing into his tough skin greedily. his voice guiding and praising you while yours is disheveled in pleasure.

god, he’s so in his head. he’s so far gone. and he barely knows you.

like a daydreaming idiot, he slaps the side of his head a few times to get his brain back into reality. he stares at his appearance in the mirror, silently motivating himself to have a good night whether or not you show up.

taking a deep breath, he finally exits his bedroom. of course, the music is booming and the place is already as crowded as a concert. peter trails down the stairs, but stops midway when he sees the top of your head.

is that you? how did he miss you?

moving swiftly down the steps, he weaves his way through the crowd, his fake glasses nearly slipping down his face. multiple people try to stop and chat with him, but he doesn’t indulge for long, having a clear destination in mind.

but, just when he reaches the kitchen, you’re gone.

he swears he just saw you. maybe he’s going crazy.

releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, peter pushes through a few more bodies before reaching the sliding glass door. he squeezed himself outside and inhales. when you’re in a house full of sweaty, drunk people smoking weed, you become more grateful for the fresh air.

he removes his glasses and tucks them into his neckline. his eyes gaze at the backyard’s minuscule decorations, and then to the sky. he stares at the stars as they wink at him, reassuring that everything will be alright. he wishes that the town won’t need saving tonight and that everyone will be on their best behavior. he hopes that you’ll come to the party, even if it doesn’t end with you in his arms.

even though that’s all he really wants.

“peter?” a voice speaks, and the sound was so elegant and soft that he thought the stars themselves were talking to him. he forces himself to blink a few times before spinning around to face you.

he nearly faints when he sees your costume.

short red dress, white tights, blue heels, black webs. you were dressed as spider-man, or spider girl, and you looked absolutely fucking stunning. you would be the death of peter. seriously, he thinks he might pass out from lust and admiration looking at you. you were just so drop-dead gorgeous, he couldn’t believe it.

maybe the stars were on his side tonight. unless they wanted to kill him…

“are you okay?” your soft voice of concern walks straight up to him, delicate hand resting on his shoulder.

“y-yeah,” peter stutters before coughing. is it surprising that he’s already half hard? a small blush cascades his pale cheeks. “you look… really fucking good.”

there’s no dancing around it.

now, familiar heat warms your neck, cheeks, and ears at his compliment. his voice was low, so only you could hear it over the screaming music, and it was laced with a small growl that had your stomach flipping. your hand fell from his shoulder.

“thanks,” you couldn’t think of what else to say, but then you looked at his outfit, which was little to none. actually, he was wearing normal clothes. peter was probably the only person at the party without a costume. “i guess i had to go all out since you decided not to wear anything. it’s your party and you didn’t think to dress up?”

peter laughs, breaking any invisible tension that might have been there. god, you loved his laugh. it was so childlike and full of joy, that you couldn’t help but smile.

“i have a costume. hold on,” peter puts on his glasses.

“if you say you’re a hot nerd—”

“nuh uh, i’m a super hot nerd,” he then rips the buttons off half of his flannel, presenting the superman symbol on his chest. rolling your eyes, it was your turn to laugh. your hand covers your face at his silliness as you lean against the nearby wall for support.

“you’re such an idiot.”

“i can’t be a nerd and an idiot, angel.”

“somehow, you make it work,” you both chuckle with huge smiles on your faces, unable to look away from each other.

“hey, dickwad,” flash abruptly appears from the sliding glass door that you two were standing by. he was dressed as spider-man, which nearly made peter cry laughing out of irony when he first found out this morning, but he kept that to himself. “—oh, hey, y/n. nice costume! at least someone has taste.”

“superman is a great superhero—”

“whatever, dude. at least spiderman is real!” flash shouts before parading away, repeating the statement to his next victims that will hear him.

“what do you have against spider-man?” you ask, leaning against the rough wall by just your arm. you were too afraid to have the dress touch it, in fear of ripping or ruining it.

“nothing,” peter shrugs.

“oh, c’mon,” you shove at his shoulder playfully. “just say you don’t believe in him. it’s okay.”

“what! of course, i believe in him, he’s not santa claus.”

“oh my god, santa isn’t real?!” you pretend to be shocked, hands slapping your cheeks. peter lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before nonchalantly grabbing your hand. your heart speeds up in your chest at his simple movement while your breathing halters.

and just like that he’s in control.

“do you want to get a drink?” peter’s thumb plays with the skin of your knuckles while he waits for your answer. but you can’t think of anything right now besides the soft caress being tattooed onto you.

“no, i’m not in the mood to drink tonight,” you replied, hoping that gave peter a hint at how you wanted the night to go. peter wasn’t as stupid as most guys, so you have high hopes that he understood the foreshadow.

“well, what are you in the mood for?” his voice was low again, speckles of lust wavering in it. he takes a step closer to you, and you can’t help but lay flat against the wall. you weren’t even thinking about the condition of the dress anymore. you swallowed as your stomach burned in anticipation.

“somewhere quiet,” your eyes flickered between his darkening eyes and his pink lips.

“it won’t stay quiet as long as you’re there,” a cheeky smile rises up on his lips as heat floods through your body. you hit his shoulder lightly, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

following him and his contagious smile, peter drags you through the crowds of people. there were more people in the house than when you arrived, but you’re not surprised. the upstairs section of the frat was basically off-limits to most people, unless you really had to go to the bathroom and the downstairs one was taken. you’ve been to the house a few times, but you’ve never stayed long enough to go upstairs.

but tonight everything is different.

unlike your wooden floors, peter’s are carpeted, so you’re walking very carefully on your heels. when you reach the top step, your calves are slightly burning from the exercise.

looking both ways, peter leads you towards his bedroom at the end of the hallway, hands intertwined. it felt secretive, and a part of you liked it. he closes the door right when you got inside, locking it quickly. but while he’s doing so, your hands release from his to explore his room. he rushes to clean his messes books.

peter had a gray and black color scheme that was alluring. his dark gray sheets looked soft and plush, and you could imagine yourself sleeping in them every night. were you getting ahead of yourself? maybe. you barely knew him, but you felt like you’ve known him forever. you glance around his room some more, trying to get to know him.

he had two band posters; led zeppelin and guns n’ roses. you didn’t expect the second one, but it impressed you. his desk was scattered with textbooks and papers like he had just been studying. turning around you see his two-mirror closet. it was slightly ajar, letting you see a few boxes.

“what’s in the boxes?” you ask, slowly creeping your way towards them. you don’t miss peter’s eyes widening slightly and his cheeks heating up. now you have to know.

“n-nothing important,” peter scratches the back of his neck, and if he’s trying to hide something, he’s doing a horrible job at it. on the sides of each box were black handwriting.

“trophies and medals,” you read aloud, inching your way towards the door, “books—”

“y/n, don’t!” peter exclaimed nervously with a hand reaching out to stop you, causing you to turn around and eye his expression. he swallowed thickly, praying you didn’t open the box. his anxiety was at an all time high. “there’s… personal stuff in there.”

“okay, okay. you don’t want anyone to know you have sexy magazines,” you rolled your eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “i get it. i’m not jealous.”

“yeah…” peter’s cheeks don’t cool down, still red and warm. for some reason, he senses the awkward tension arising in the atmosphere around you both, and he doesn’t know how to tame it. you both know what you want now, but it’s hard to bring it up without being so forward.

“did i tell you that you look good in glasses?” you speak after the few seconds of silence. you get yourself comfortable on the edge of his bed, unstrapping your heels from your already sore feet. you groan. “feels so much better.”

“thanks,” peter joins with a never-ending blush, sitting next to you. he’s itching to touch you.

why was it so much easier when he broke in?

he turns to face you and stares at your eye makeup. you had little black webs on the corner of your eyes. for some strange reason, the idea of you dressing up as him really turned him on. even if you didn’t know it was him.

“peter,” you said a bit breathlessly. your heart was racing with anticipation and lust. he hadn’t even noticed you were staring right back at him. you could look at each other for hours, but you really wanted more. needed it. subconsciously, you were both leaning forward towards your lips.

“yeah?” peter’s gaze never faltered. his honey brown eyes darkened to black.

“i brought something for you,” his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes, curious.

“it’s not even christmas yet,” he smiles, “and what’s that?” you leaned closer to him, your lips hovering over his ear.

“it’s a surprise,” you whispered seductively, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. he doesn’t hesitate to rub the supple skin covered by fishnet, warm and smooth.

when you pull away just the slightest, peter crashes his lips to yours. the kiss was as passionate as your feelings for him, erupting your anticipation and nerves in small gasps. he shifts you over to his lap, so you’re straddling him. instantly, you buck your hips into his crotch, desperate for more than a heated kiss.

your heart is thrashing in your chest and there’s a familiar burn in the lower part of your stomach. your hands roam his brown hair, exploring his locks like it’s new territory. except it’s not. you’ve never felt like you’ve known someone so well without even knowing them that well. the chasing, the waiting, the wanting, the needing, the wondering—it was the strangest feeling, and you were addicted to it.

you pop your lips off of peter, puffy and pink. you both take a second to breathe before you start kissing down his neck. you’re not shy with your teeth, leaving marks on his tough skin that’s shielding layers of muscle.

when you get to his collarbone, you nearly whine because he still has his flannel and shirt on. you swear you’ve never been more horny or desperate in your life.

“relax, sweet girl,” peter reassures, petting your hair while you look up at him. “we have all night.”

just tonight? you thought. what about the other nights? and days?

after a soft sigh, you nod and begin unbuttoning his flannel. your hands are a bit shaky from all the anticipation and the rapid beat of your heart. of course peter notices.

“are you alright?” he questions softly, being the caring guy he is.

“yeah, just nervous, i guess,” you answer honestly because he makes it easy to. he’s comforting and he cares.

so why are you nervous?

but instead of asking you why, he says, “me too.”

after you undo the last button and gently remove his flannel, you delicately smile at him. it was so pretty, peter couldn’t help but smile too. you tug on the end of his superman t-shirt, and he yanks it off. and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his immaculate figure. it was sculpted to perfection, as if he was given his body from some drug. or maybe even the gods.

his hand raises to caress your supple cheek, causing you to stare at his face before he’s kissing you again. it started off sweet and gentle, like how peter saw you. but it didn’t take long for it to be rougher and full of lust. peter could feel his jeans tightening underneath you, and he wasn’t stupid enough to confuse the scent of your arousal with perfume or something.

trying again, your lips go to trail down peter’s neck again. his breath is wavering our sighs of pleasure as you lick and nibble his skin.

“gonna tell me that surprise?” peter asks, hands crawling up to the back of your dress. he’s sure to be careful as he drapes the straps down, the top slowly sliding down as you make out with his chest. you push peter’s body down so he’s laying flat on the bed, not answering him. “not gonna answer?”

you weren’t. you didn’t have time for all the things you wanted to do with him. all the things you wanted him to do to you. maybe you were too far gone to think it would take more than a night to be fulfilled by peter. more than two. more than a week? maybe a month. you’d keep going until you’re sick and tired, but you don’t think you could ever get sick or tired of peter parker.

lost within the feeling of his body, you barely comprehend when he flips you dramatically over. his hard body hovers above yours, your dress barely hiding your peaked nipples.

“i ask you a question, baby,” he husks, breath fanning over your skin and traveling toward your ear. a shiver scatters up your spine and a spark of lust fires in your clit.

“you have to wait and see,” you answered breathlessly, a smirk rising on your face.

a dark color covers his eyes. peter doesn’t like not knowing something, so he’s desperate to figure out your little “surprise.”

with little to no effort, violet’s dress is tugged all the way down your body. he tosses it gracefully onto his bedroom floor, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he gazes over your body. he hasn’t seen you since wednesday and he was craving you like crazy. he thought he was going to go insane. but as he stares down at your figure adorning white fishnets sexily, he finally knows what it’s like to go crazy.

“is this my surprise? because, fuck, you look like a prize.”

you giggle as his rough fingertips trail down your torso. your nipples ache from neglect and the chilly october air that somehow breezes through the room. your body arches up into his touch, needing him badly. maybe you should just tell him the surprise.

but wouldn’t it be so much better if he just found it himself?

“can i unwrap my present?” peter teases with a cheeky smile, nudging at the waistline of your fishnets. you know that the second you open your legs he’s going to see your wetness leaking from the fabric.

“yes, peter,” you can’t help but laugh.

“do you care if i rip them?”

“what?”

“can i rip them?”

“i don’t—” the quiet sound of stretching and ripping cuts you off. he tore your fishnets. well, violet’s fishnets. “peter!”

“too late. i’ve never been good at unwrapping gifts,” he quickly kisses your cheek in a sweet apology, “luckily, i’m pretty good at taking care of them.”

you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t help but smile like a little kid. as he makes his way down your body again, he widens your legs and sees his surprise. your heart throbs just like your aching cunt.

“ah, so that’s my surprise,” he grumbles. it’s hard for him to keep it together right now.

peter stares darkly at the small purple toy peeking out from your bare pussy. you had no panties on, which in peter’s eyes, seemed ironic. from the top of his eyes, he sees the tiny smirk creeping up onto your lips.

his hand crawls up your leg until it reaches the soaking folds of your throbbing cunt. he pets your slit delicately, like you’d break if he fully touched you. you might. even from that simple touch, you were squirming underneath him, silently begging for more.

“how long has this been keeping you full?” he questions, curious, “is this what you’ve been using while i was gone?”

“mhm,” you hum when his fingers find your puffy clit, throbbing with desire. you leaked all around the purple toy, wetness gushing from you.

“look at you. fucking soaked. what made you this wet? was it the toy?” peter circles your clit faster, making your breath falter. you try to keep your eyes strained on him, but the feeling is just too incredible to focus on anything else. “answer me.”

“n-not the toy,” you stutter with breathlessness. a wavering moan elicits from you.

“then why are you so wet?” he taunts, and the low level of his voice floods over your body just right. you clench needily around the toy right in front of him, causing him to growl.

“you! nothing makes me wet like you do,” you admit head falling back on the pillow as his rough pace gives in. he’s satisfied with your answer, so he goes to a full, fast rhythm.

you’re so dazed with your orgasmic chase that your body rumbles as it nears. to make matters more intense, peter testingly pushes the small button on the bottom of the toy. it springs to life, vibrating your entire insides electrifingly. a broken moan escapes your swollen lips, and you just pray it’s hidden behind the heavy beat of the party music.

your legs shake in his hands as his head lowers. you’re so close to your high and then he does even more? you swear you were going to explode.

his challenging mouth sucks harshly on your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on earth. instead of the bed sheets, your hands find their way to his soft hair, tucking the roots with triumph.

you’re breathless and you’re close. so, so close. you can see your orgasm in front of you like a sunset and you’re riding straight into it on a horse.

“peter!” you cry when he nibbles on your clit, a smirk pressed against you. it was nice to release your moans without having to muffle them down. your core tenses like never before, overwhelmed by the extreme pleasure. “i’m coming—oh, fuck, please let me come!”

“go ahead, sweet girl,” he pops off of you and replaces his mouth with his thick fingers. “give it all to me.”

so you do. you release every tension within you that was holding you back. with eyes screwed closed, your back arches from the high. the wetness squeezes out of you while peter eases you through it. he switches off the vibrator and puts it somewhere besides you on the bed.

he lowers his head to clean up the mess with delight. when he comes back up, the grin on his face is toothy and contagious. you reflect it back, wondering how you got so lucky. how were you lucky enough for your intruder to be peter parker?

“you okay, angel?” peter asks, thumb caressing your heated cheek bone with concern. you’re melting into his touch, hoping to be a part of him forever. you wouldn’t mind.

“yeah, just… thinking.”

“good or bad?”

“i’ll tell you later,” you smile as you recall all the small thoughts you have of peter. peter rolls his eyes dramatically as your hands rub down his chest.

“but… i was wondering if i could be on top? just wanna try it. i need it,” you stare into his eyes and patiently wait for an answer. you’ve never been on top before, but with peter it seems like it would be really fun.

“i don’t know. do you want me to die?”

you laugh, forcing you to look away from his brown eyes. you push peter off the bed until he’s standing and ask him to take off his pants. when he’s completely naked, he goes to lean against his headboard, ready for you to sit on him. you crawl over to him as he puts on a condom from his bedside table.

“ready, baby?” he massages your upper arms.

“you’re being too nice, peter,” you note as you throw your legs over his hips. you didn’t actually know what you were doing, but confidence is key. if you just pretended like you knew, it would look like it, right?

“what? do you want me to be mean, baby? ‘cause i can be mean.”

“don’t think you’re really capable.”

“we’ll see then, doll,” peter says deeply as his hand grips your hip tightly.

as you slowly lower your body with peter’s guidance, you feel his tip enter you. it was a different feeling than being on the bottom. you had more control, but you had to do more work. you’re not sure if you cared to have so much free reign. you kind of preferred when peter took the wheel.

you rocked your hips forward, feeling his hard cock fully inside of you. it was stretching you completely out. you couldn’t get up if you tried. there was a pain mixed with pleasure that filled you up so good.

“c’mon, y/n. fuck yourself on my cock,” he growled in encouragement as you attempted to lift your hips up. you barely move because you’re squeezing around his cock so tight, like if you let go you’ll die. peter lightly moans as you squeeze him, wondering if he’ll die right here inside of you.

“i-i can’t,” you whine.

“you can’t? thought you needed it?” he taunts. peter can be mean if he really wanted to,

“it’s too hard.”

“you’re not even trying. good girls at least try. don’t you want to be a good girl?”

peter thrusts up into you once to make you moan, which works successfully. you spit out your broken moan with your hands clawing his biceps.

“barely moved and you’re already moaning. pathetic, really. you asked me to be on top and you can’t even take it.”

you clench around his prick at his degrading words. you didn’t think he could be mean, but you were wrong. his words were just the right amount of degrading that made you weak and so, so wet.

“look at that. my girl’s getting off on words like pathetic,” my girl. the two words nearly cause you to come right then and there. then peter thrusts up into you with purpose in each movement. as one hand grips your hip, the other floats up to your breast and fingers your nipple. he flicks and tweaks at it, causing you to arch into his touch. “what about slut? do like when i call you my slut?”

“fuck, peter,” you groan at his dirty talking. with each pump, you would feel every inch of him inside of you, filling you up completely. although you’re so full, you needed it harder and faster, and it was going to be difficult to get it from this angle when you’re not being much help.

before the begging words even slip from your mouth, peter is flipping you both over with ease. he doesn’t waste a second to slide back into you, causing your body to erupt in flames.

he begins with hard pumps, slowly gaining speed. but once he’s going fast, you could barely focus on your senses. you swear you could hear colors.

the sounds of your moans, shrieks, and screams echo throughout his bedroom. you don’t care if people could hear you. you hoped they could. you hoped they knew how good peter was destroying you, so they knew you were his.

peter hoped the same thing.

“so, so good, peter,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.

“yeah? such a slut for my cock, huh?” he teases, voice low and lustful. “so cockdumb that you couldn’t even ride me.”

“i-i can do it,” a breathless moan escaped you, but you were too floaty to understand what you were really saying.

“oh, now you can do it? well, it’s too late, sweetheart.”

peter’s pace doesn’t falter. he makes sure to make every thrust count as he hits every angle. you cry out in bliss, chasing your orgasm like your life depends on it.

“i’m close,” the whine that elicits from you is groggy and strained from how sore it feels. you can’t even imagine how raw it would be from taking him down your throat…

for another time.

his rough hand trails down between you until he’s pressing his hand down on your stomach. with every shift of his cock he can feel himself moving through you. as he puts more pressure, you both collectively moan at the feeling.

“can you feel me? can you feel me deep inside of your little cunt? do you feel me right here?” peter drags your trembling hand to place it on your lower torso, right where he’s nonstop thrusting into you.

“yes, peter! fuck, you’re so big. i feel you in my tummy,” you clamp around his cock, your orgasm right around the corner. “please, please let me come. i’ve been good.”

“have you? you couldn’t even ride me even when i let you.”

“i’m sorry, peter–please. need to so bad,” your eyes are squeezed shut as you beg peter. his hand that was on top of yours drifts down to your clit. he stimulates it by rubbing in tight circles that have you seeing stars. every muscle is in your body is screaming and pleading for release while he overstimulates you more. “want to be good!”

“yeah? want to be a good girl?” a needy moan elicits from you. “then come for me. right now while you’re squeezing me.”

the air surrounding you turned wistful and cloudy. your body rumbled and erupted as you orgasmed, shaking with desire as it poured out of you. you thought the first time that you and peter fucked was the best sex you’ve ever had, but after tonight, you’ve never been more wrong. maybe it’s because you two are a little more comfortable with each other. maybe it’s because you told him to be a little mean. whatever it was, it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. because it was more than sex. it felt like more.

peter’s orgasm trails yours, making sure that you come first. his thrusts were slowier and sloppier as he pants out heavy breaths. before exiting you, his hand reaches up to caress your face.

“okay?” his voice was a bit raspy as he came down from his high. his arms were on either side of your head, and you felt safe and protected.

“more than,” you smiled dopily at peter, whose eyes were twinkling. reflecting a smile, peter begins to pull out of you. “do we have to?”

“have to what?” he stops his movements, half-way out of you. you hated the empty feeling that started to flood over you because you knew he’d leave soon. well, you would leave soon.

“leave. can’t we just stay in here all night?” you question. a part inside of you was scared for his rejection, that he was going to kick you out and then that was it. but the other half of you had the courage to ask because you knew it would all be fine.

“i would–”

“oh, there’s a but coming.”

“but i need to eat. and so do you,” he pulls out of you and rids out the condom within a few seconds. you don’t move from your flat position on the bed, feeling the cold waves of loneliness flooding over you already. peter had a tingle that you wanted more. you wanted to stay, but you were too nervous to ask. you were good at giving him big hints, though.

he loves the idea of you staying. laying with you and hearing your soft breaths as you sleep. cuddling close to be warm from the cold air. peter’s heart lurches at the wonderful thought.

peter reaches for his clothes and dresses. you bend over and slip on the dress, without the fishnets. your hair was probably a mess, but you didn’t care because the only person you cared about seeing tonight was peter.

once you’re dressed with shaky hands, peter stands in front of you and rests his hands on your shoulders. delicately, he caresses your neck as you practically pur into his warm touch. you felt your heart rate pick up, even though he was just inside of you.

“and then, if you’d like, we can come back up here,” he presses his chest against yours as his voice softens, “and we can lay in bed, watch a movie, and not worry about being caught because we don’t have rules like you do.”

although your heart was beating fast already, you’ve never felt more comfortable. he made you feel reassured, and you couldn’t ask for more. with a smile rising to your lips, peter’s heart skips a beat at the wistfulness cascading throughout his body. your lips were soft and kissable, your skin was glowing with an orgasmic shine, and your makeup was a bit smudged, but you still looked like peter’s perfect girl.

his girl.

“wait, before we eat, i have to get some stuff at the sorority.”

“okay,” he says, “put this on. it’s freezing and your wearing practically nothing.”

he throws a hoodie at you and you catch it with blinking eyes. it as a small gesture, but your heart was melting. you slip it over your head without any question. and then he’s dragging you out of the extremely loud and crowded house. no one says or questions anything, and you’ve never been more glad to be so invisible.

–

“what are you doing? come on!”

“what if they see me?”

“there’s no one home!” you whisper-shouted at peter as you walked through the door. there was a key under the flower pot that worked great when you forgot your key.

it’s kind of ironic that you are both sneaking into your sorority. it’s a full circle moment.

you both tiptoe through the clean, white house. peter nearly takes his shoes off because he’s scared he’ll leave dirt footprints in his trail. he really does not want to be seen in this house knowing what happened to flash the last time they snuck in. but it’s peter’s job to be stealthy, so he hopes he could keep up the good work.

you make it up the stairs and head straight for your room. peter remembered exactly which one was yours, now that he’s been in it two times somehow. once you’re both inside, he shuts the door behind him quietly like someone would hear him.

“why did we just tiptoe all the way up here? there’s no one even here!” you say in a normal level voice as a chuckle follows after. peter laughs with you as you search your drawers for some clothes.

“i feel it’s only right to bring the mit one, right?”

“definitely.”

“wait, did you leave the vibrator on your bed?”

“uh… yeah. sorry.”

“peter!” your skin grows warm with the idea that someone might stumble into his bedroom and find it just lying there. you cringe at yourself.

you pack a small overnight bag with your most needed essentials. peter sits patiently on your bed, practically swinging his feet as he analyzes your bedroom. it was simple with a few picture frames of family and friends. your room was basically plain white with a few pink and blue items scattered around the place. in all, it was you. he couldn’t think of a better sorority room to fit your vibe, your personality better than this room. it was naturally gorgeous, like you.

even though peter was looking around your room, he was still watching you pack. he observed when you folded a pair of night shorts with the mit t-shirt and even threw in an outfit for the next day just in case you two went out. but you were missing something.

“okay, let me grab my toothbrush,” you quickly left the room and in no-time were back. “let’s go. i’m hungry now.”

“but you’re forgetting something,” peter says. you blink, wondering what you might be forgetting.

“but i grabbed everything–” you watch as peter glides towards your dresser drawers. he opens the top left and immediately finds your colorful panties and underwear. your eyes widen in embarrassment, even though he’s seen you naked multiple times. something about him staring at your undergarments was just a little more… vulnerable?

peter snatches two different colors, a royal blue one and a vibrant red one, similar to the first one he saw you in. of course, he picked these colors purposely.

“which one? i’m thinking the blu–”

“what are you doing! that’s my underwear!” you tried to reach for them dangling in his hands, but he was way quicker than you. it’s like he knew before you even moved.

“well, i think at this point it’s kind of a tradition for me to take one, no? i couldn’t take them earlier because you weren’t wearing any!”

your neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment. yeah, you may have been confident when in the moment, but talking about it just made your face hot. peter always knew how to get you going. to get quickly out of this situation, you grumble, “blue.”

and with that, you were on your way back to the frat house. the party was still going strong and surprisingly, no one asked where either of you were. when you and peter walked through the door, people just acted like you’ve been there the whole time. but they were also drunk and high, so was it really that shocking?

within the first few minutes of you and peter being in the congested house, you both look at each other with a knowing look. there was no way you two could eat in this populous, mess of a place.

“diner?” peter shouts over the blaring music. he swore flash turned it up to full volume, even when peter told him specifically not to do that.

“exactly what i was thinking,” you reply loudly as you squeeze your bodies through the crowd. peter slides his hand into yours as you shift through everybody. a spark of electricity nearly shocks you.

when you approach his car, you throw your bag at the bottom of your feet before dropping into his passenger seat. you both inhale and exhale the refreshing night time air. the house smelt like marjuana and sweat, but his car was scented with pine and fresh leather.

as he started the car, you two didn’t say anything. and it was perfect. it was comfortable. it was safe. you turn your head to look at peter, whose eyes were fighting between the road and you. your heart skips a beat that’s getting familiar as you smile softly. gently, your hands intertwine as you ride on to the diner.

your journey with peter started… differently than most. but you liked the idea of having a tradition with peter. sure, it may not be traditional, but it was yours. you would both have to create a fundraiser for all these panties he will be stealing because they’re not cheap!

is it really stealing if you know he’s taking them? whatever.

when people ask how you guys met, it’s going to be a funny story. how many people break into someone’s house as a dare and then fall in love with them? not many.

wait… love?

–

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. i could not be more grateful for the love on panty stealer. i never thought any of my writing would get this much notice, so thank you (times three) for all the likes, comments, and reblogs.

note: i won’t be making anymore full parts, however, i will do blurbs/drabbles of these two if requested!

taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @sylum @harrys-humble-housewife @blurazbabe @introverbatim @piperparker7 @graceberman3 @tommy-braccoli @fioooweeooweeeoo @conrad4life13

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #peter parker #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland smut #peter parker fics #peter parker fanfics #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fics #tom holland fanfics #peter parker one shot #tom holland one shot

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theoceansluvr · 3 months

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Baseball Player! Percy Jackson x Reader

warnings; none ! author's notes; oooo how i love baseball player Percy headcanons.. i eat up every single moodboard people make of him it's insane !!! watched an entire Yankees game while writing this too sooo.. (Juan Soto come home the kids miss you😞)

behind the lovely Sally Jackson herself, you're his biggest fan !!

there's nobody louder than you two cheering Percy's name

he gives you his training jersey because of course he does.

this man's ego inflates tenfold whenever you wear it too

especially if it's a jersey with his last name on it too

he's has a million thoughts going through his head about everything ever

in his defense, you look really good with a big 03 on your back so he's not complaining !

you know how players like.. run the top of the bat over the sand ?(i can't explain this but y'all know what i mean)

well he does your initial

nobody really questions it either

he does it in games, in practice, everything

watches every single Yankees game(me too)

he actually daydreams about playing for them it's kinda cute

he's a die hard New Yorker what can i say ?

you could start dating him not even caring about baseball and 3 months in you know almost all the rules and top players

he's a bit of a yapper-

anyways !

he brings you to the batting cage with him

mainly because he's a show off but also because he wants to teach you how to play !

of course he won't force you

but that dorky smile on his face when he sees you try is well worth the terror of getting hit in the face

good luck kisses good luck kisses good luck kisses good luck kisses good lu-

you get the point

also kisses for winning or losing

usually winning because he's an absolute UNIT on his team

has you initials embroidered onto his hat im afraid

likes pitching but is an insane hitter

jack of all trades if you will

if you won't that's alright too

you make him those really cool gift boxes

you made one for him after his last game of the season and he actually cried

he never takes off/gets rid of whatever you gave him

plus you bring snacks so his team is obsessed with you

they ask more about you than they do Percy i'm not even kiddin'

uhhh possibly, maybe is on his best performance all the time but ESPECIALLY when you come to his games + practices

his coach literally encourages you to come because of this fact

calls you his lucky charm

"Everytime you come, we always win !" as if he doesn't always play well

which you explained to him, to which he brushed off and ignored

".. You're initials on my hat helped ?"

he's trying okay ?

the first time you took him to an actual MLB game he lost it

peppered you and kisses and couldn't sit still the whole time

he was the loudest one in the stadium i can tell you that much !

would also FREAK if he got his bat signed by his favorite player

who that may be is entirely up to y'all

i feel like he follows the necklace tradition so he wears a little locket that has a picture of you two in it

you are the only person that can touch his bat

he considers it bad luck for anybody else except you

that's all of my long windedness for tonight im afraid loves🗣️

i love you baseball and i love you more Percy Jackson !!

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson #pjo #pjo hoo toa #poems from the sea

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nothingenoughao3 · 2 months

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Daniel Cain: Reefernator

"Dan Cain is a stoner in the novelization!"

I have never been less surprised by a characterization and it's one of the only things I'll accept from the novel as canon. Because it was already canon in the movie. I know old Gen X stoner types and I know Dan is one of them, I know it in my bones.

Behold, the home of a man who smokes a titanic amount of grass whenever he's not onscreen:

[ID: three screenshots from "Re-Animator". The first shows Meg in shadow; the second shows Meg peering into Herbert West's room; the third shows Dan standing by the door with a baseball bat, and Herbert with a medical textbook on the sofa. End ID.]

Without exception, every single windowpane in 666 Darkmoor is curtained.

The curtains are eternally drawn, day or night.

The lamp could not be loved by a cocaine-snorting yuppie. Only by a stoner who likes to play with the fringe once he's on his fifth bowl.

He still hasn't unpacked most of his shit (but I promise you this: he did unpack the box that was labeled as "first aid/bathroom stuff" but it held his glass Gandalf pipe cautiously wrapped in bubble paper, and a wooden box with his stash and his grinder in it).

Dan has house plants because he thinks that freshens the air and lessens the smell of green. He is wrong. He also feels a spiritual connection to the plants when he's giga-high. He is right.

Most telling of all, he has tacked up towels and/or random pieces of cloth over the glass windows in the doors. THAT is prime "I don't want the cops to see me smoking grass" behavior.

This is the home where the air can give you a contact high. This is the home of a man who can direct you to the nearest ditch where marijuana is growing wild in any subdivision of Arkham. It's only missing a Frank Frazetta poster and a painting of mushrooms with faces, and only because they're still in one of those boxes Dan hasn't unpacked yet.

Dan Cain can roll a blunt that will give you an out-of-body experience. Dan Cain can take fat rips off a bong that will render lesser folks speechless, melting into the sofa, and gently hallucinating. Dan Cain says your edibles ain't shit and he means it for real.

And you just know that when Herbert walked in and took a single breath, he went "Oh, okay, if blackmailing him for banging the Dean's daughter doesn't work, I can always, as humans say, 'rat him out' to 'the fuzz'."

#reanimator #re animator 1985 #herbert west #dan cain #stoner dan cain #weed content #herbert west: narc-inator #headcanon #i am obscenely correct with this take

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sillymicox3 · 6 months

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The Savannah Kids Headcanons (Mostly stupid or smth)

-It would be a funny thing if Aiden were to drive a car the others would be scared to death because of Aiden's recklessness.

-At some point Logan and Ash are comfortable with each other that Logan can freely go in Ash's house. Mike and Emma don't mind it and they welcome him like he's also their child.

-Whenever there's thunderstorms Ashlyn would be under her blankets with her noise cancelling headphones on and would say to herself "I'm a teenager, I'm not a child so I'm not going to my parents" only to find herself cuddled up to her parents 1 minute later.

-Speaking of thunderstorms the twins also can't handle them and would go to their mother.

-Whenever Logan wants to visit Ash at midnight he would text her and the first thing he says is 'knock knock I know you're in there come out now'. At some times Ashlyn would mistaken him as a hacker that knows her address so now she has a bat on her side of the bed and would carry it when Logan messages her. (Sometimes would hit Logan, but Logan would dodge it because it's becoming a routine)

-When Tyler and Ashlyn get mad at each other the others form a circle around them and bet who's going to win the battle.

-Ashlyn and Logan once found a dog. Whenever Aiden tries to recklessly play with it Ashlyn beats the shit out of him mentally. Logan tries to set it free because it kept on shitting.

-Speaking of dogs since Logan keeps on forcing Ash to watch horror movies, as a payback she let's loose a random stray dog in Logan's room and the dog ended up shitting next to Logan.

-Ashlyn has a soft spot for dogs. Whenever she's infuriated at Aiden he would pull out a random picture of a puppy and she would go "aww". It's Aiden's only chance of living.

-When Aiden plays monopoly he would laugh like a mad man every time he does something. He also used the money as a fan to give "rich kid vibes".

-They share the same playlist. Aiden would add questionable songs and Taylor or Tyler would be the ones to remove them to save the other's innocence (if they have one).

-When Tyler's angry as fuck he would use a nearby object no matter how heavy it is as a weapon and would throw it at someone. If he can't, he'll destroy it. If he can't then he'll use his shoe (inspired by a fellow classmate of mine)

-As a child when Aiden was home alone he would jump down the stairs to feel adrenaline and when he broke one of his ankles he would walk it off (based on a true story of mine ig)

-When the gang was hanging out in Ash's house Ashlyn once let out a loud, blood curling, ear piercing scream. Only because there was a snake in the kitchen.

-Ben and Taylor are scared of My Little Pony because Aiden showed them those MLP infected slideshows on tiktok.

-When Tyler first played baseball he accidentally threw the bat when he tried to hit the ball and the ball ended up hitting his nose.

Yeah that's all ig. They're pretty stupid and inaccurate.

#headcanon #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #aiden clark #aiden sbg #ashlyn banner #ashlyn sbg #logan fields #logan sbg #tyler hernandez #tyler sbg #taylor hernandez #taylor sbg #ben clark #ben sbg #sbg #sbg webtoon

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otrtbs · 3 months

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there's a thing in the summer evening, when the sun goes down and the moon is high and full in the sky, cooling everything off just slightly, where the surrounding neighborhood kids come out and play baseball in a makeshift baseball field and everyone gets really into it. like, really into it. they have to bring their own battery operated lights for the field, they have bets running on the different teams playing (a few dollars, baseball cards, packs of gum, coins, stickers, yo-yo's, single cigarettes (how'd those get in there?) sunglasses, watches, candy, you name it).

and no adults allowed. not that they encroach on the fun, but the first game starts at one in the morning so who's got the time?

and since sirius left to live with james, regulus is shut up in the house and has to hear about the great baseball extravaganza from barty in a "your brother is on the james potter all-star team i've got $50 in the pool, we have to go to the tournament" kinda way. and regulus is like "my mother would actually kill me and explicitly forbids it but i'll think about it."

but barty shows up just after midnight on game day and starts throwing rocks at regulus' window to get him to come out except he runs out of small rocks and moves to bigger ones and gets impatient and throws the big rocks harder and then oops, one went right through a window, except this house isn't regulus' house. regulus' house is two doors down, it's just hard to see in the dark. so barty moves two doors down and finds some smaller rocks and starts over again until regulus comes out. scowling, but he's out.

and they start the long walk to the makeshift baseball field and it's hot and the air is sticky and sweet with honeysuckles. and barty and regulus talk. and barty buys regulus boiled peanuts and crackerjack from a kid's makeshift concession stand and they sit in the makeshift bleachers side by side with their knees knocking together. and barty manages to make sly remarks that make regulus laugh. and regulus makes last minute bets and watches the game, and starts getting into it, and barty smiles at the way he's on the edge of his seat, brows furrowed in concentration. barty thinks he even sees regulus clap once, and it's fun watching regulus, more fun than watching the game, even.

so fun that barty says he'll get regulus the next night to watch the next two teams play. regulus agrees, and they make this a routine and barty thinks, finally.

but then it's james' team that's up next and james walks up to the plate and does a trick with his baseball bat with a grin so-wide and a wink, and regulus' eyes are as wide a saucers for a brief second before he catches himself but it doesn't matter. barty's seen it, and knows instantly he's made a mistake. he's signed himself up for a summer of looking at regulus look at james. and he's doomed.

#think of the teams here... i think minimum bare minimum u need 9 to a team...#so #team one: james sirius peter marlene mary lily frank alice andromeda #team two: dorcas pandora evan emmeline amelia gideon fabian narcissa benjy #team three: bellatrix to snape mulciber avery alecto amycus rita selwyn #those are the top three teams to beat #idk i could bend the baseball rules the SPORT™️ of it all is ehhh to me #remus is obviously keeping score/announcing/doing the music #evan is like “when are u gonna ditch ur boyfriend and get with me instead???”#and barty is infuriated bc his plan to get regulus backfired and introduced reg to the love of his life #ykykykyk #someone ANYONE tell me u are picking up what im putting down rn

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ickypuppi3 · 6 months

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billy’s mom waking him up while it’s still dark, whispering even though neil’s working the night shift. it’s a couple days before his tenth birthday and she’s telling him they’re going to have their very own adventure, just like the ones in billy’s books. she grabs an already packed suitcase from under billy’s bed and kisses him on the nose, tells him to get dressed quick. the two of them leave in an old beat up yellow bug that she managed to get for a third of the asking price and keep parked around the corner until now. they stay with friends and jump from place to place so neil can’t track them down. billy gets used to surfing couches and staying in motels.

he spends his tenth birthday in a diner, his mom gets him a big stack of pancakes and a milkshake with extra cherries. gets a candle out her pocket along with her silver lighter. sings happy birthday and pulls a face when the waitress frowns at them, just to make billy laugh. she sips at her coffee while billy tucks in. smiles when he holds some out with a “c’mon mama, share with me.”

billy thinks it’s neat. thinks it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

they eventually end up with a place in california, a little bungalow near the coast and billy grows up with his mom. billy gets pretty shirts from the thrift store ‘cause his mama lets him do stuff like that. doesn’t call him a queer, doesn’t force a baseball bat into his hands whilst yelling at him for crying, for being a pussy. his mom lets him read and keep a journal and press flowers between the pages of the neverending story, she plays hendrix and dusty springfield and laughs when billy comes home from his friends’ house with his first piercing at thirteen. she doesn’t tear down his posters or yell when she finds him using her eyeliner.

and everything’s perfect. sort of.

they have bad days- billy’s mom has bad days. billy calls them gray days ‘cause that’s how the world looks when she’s like this. all her color gone. no singing-dancing in the kitchen or baking five different kinds of cake because she couldn’t decide which one was best, no last minute trips to the beach or sitting outside at night and telling billy about the stars. instead she’ll stay in bed, won’t go to work. she’ll stare at the wall blankly and look right through billy when he tries to talk to her. she won’t take the pills the doc gave her and billy doesn’t know what to do. never knows what to do. just chews at his lip until it bleeds, bites at his thumb until it’s red raw. he’ll get in the bed with her. lay beside her and just talk like she used to do with him when he had a nightmare. hum a song to her.

billy’s still pissed at the world just slightly less so. still has that anger and anxiousness simmering just below the surface and shows his teeth when cornered. he’s still hardened in a way that a kid shouldn’t be but. it’s different. there’s no neil. the only bloody noses he gets are at school, when he fights with the kids who call him a fag and a fairy, call his mom a basket case. he uses fists when they laugh and ask if she’s all there with a finger pointing at their heads, ask if billy will “catch the crazy.”

those are billy’s bad days. sitting in the principals office, icing his knuckles.

when he’s fifteen, billy manages to bag a job at the local auto repair by turning up every day and telling howie how good he’d be, that he knows cars and it’s all he wants to do and please please please. eyebrows pulled together, eyes puppy dog wide and hands clasped in front of him until howie grumbles, throws an oily rag at billy. says fine but billy’s gotta pay for anything he damages. someone brings in a chevy camaro and billy asks howie to let him help fix it up. does the begging again until howie laughs. says get a hold of yourself, kid, voice fond as he ruffles billy’s hair.

billy’s four months away from turning seventeen when the doorbell goes. he’s eating a sandwich and watching knight rider. he’s wearing the necklace his mom got him for his last birthday and- he answers the door. doesn’t think twice. freezes when he sees neil standing there. he looks different. hair a little shorter and more wrinkles. where billy’s gained weight, gained muscle, neil’s lost it. his eyes are a little sunken and he’s still got his wedding band on. he reeks of booze. billy has to remind himself to speak, just says “yeah?” his voice comes out small and neil smiles at him. smiles and billy feels this weird twist in his stomach ‘cause .. that’s his dad and he hasn’t seen him in years and it twists and twists and-

turns out. not much has changed. billy realises a little too late that neil will always be neil. they run again. have to leave everything behind. billy doesn’t get to say bye to his friends, to howie, to the car. they leave a lot of stuff behind and head in any direction away from neil. they both try to keep the mood light, take turns driving and play the tapes billy grabbed. they end up in indiana- hawkins. they stay at a motel until billy’s mom finds a place for dirt cheap. it has two bedrooms and a dingy bathroom, a living room slash kitchen and one hell of a damp problem. it’s dirt cheap for a reason.

it’s above a shop in town and- it’s fine. their landlord is an asshole but they’re together and they’ve got a roof over their heads. billy’s enrolled at hawkins high and his mom gets a job at the laundromat. he tells her that he doesn’t need to go to school, that he could just work and help pay the bills but his mom won’t have any of it. says that she wishes she had finished school and that billy’s too clever to waste it. that he has potential.

billy knows the reason she dropped out of school was because she had him. he just nods, rests his head on her shoulder.

it’s billy’s first day at school and his mom drives him to make sure he actually goes. he gets out the car and tries to shake the nerves off. straightens up and puts on his act. plasters a fake smile on his face and it’s working, he’s got most of the girls swooning and the boys at least seem curious. billy looks around and his eyes land on a guy leaning up against a bmw. his hair’s coiffed to high heaven and he’s wearing a polo, preppy as fuck but- pretty. it’s one of the first things billy realises about him, all doe eyes and moles dotted just about everywhere. he’s got a smirk on his face. not aimed at billy but the guy beside him.

pretty-boy walks over to him and billy raises an eyebrow, plays it cool. he introduces himself as steve and billy gets the idea that he’s top dog at hawkins high, is immediately proved right when they step into the building. king steve, freckles calls him. billy laughs- catches steve looking at him when he does and feels his face get hot. steve just smiles wider, calls billy california and tells him to sit with them at lunch. billy tries to ignore the way steve’s smile makes him feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under his feet.

he nods and steve grins. tugs at one of billy’s curls.

says “i think you’re gonna like it here, california.”

#it got away from me i fear #billy has to live somewhere else at the start and then they move to california i don’t care he needs to be there with his mom for the #majority of the time he just has to #he Is california ! what else am i supposed to do here he needs it #makes hawkins that much worse #he’s best friends with argyle but he doesn’t get to say bye !#billy’s first kiss is with a girl but the second the one he counts is with a boy and his mama knows he’s gay also #probably argyle if we’re being real #my words #billy hargrove #billy’s mom #harringrove #cw slurs #cw mental illness #spinning in circles i just need mamas boy billy and king steve so bad #mamas boy billy & king steve

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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Born in the USA - Part One of Hungry Hearts

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

warnings | 18+ cursing, eventual smut, young joel is a goddamn menace

a/n | hellooooo, folks, and welcome to the first installation of my Hungry Hearts series! i'm so stoked to share this one with y'all, as always let me know what you think!

...................................

The radio DJ called for record-breaking heat simmering the streets of Austin this week, and he certainly delivered. Too hot to think, too hot work, too hot to do much of anything until the sun starts to melt down in the late afternoons. She swears that she can feel the rubber soles of her sneakers sticking to the sidewalk with each step, the heat pressing humid hands to the back of her neck, sweat pooling in all the soft dips of her body. And it’s not like she wants to be out here in the first place. In fact, she would much rather be sitting in front of the box fan in her room right now, calculating how many days, hours, and minutes until she’ll be leaving again for school. It can’t come soon enough.

Nothing much has changed around her neighborhood since she was home in December for her holiday break. Same houses with the sleepy looking windows and basketball hoops in the driveways, same families with the nosey wives and oblivious husbands, same kids getting older and taller and more socially awkward. And the same empty lot at the end of the cul-de-sac that had been turned into patchy baseball field when she was in the first grade.

“Outfield, bring it in a little for this next one!”

“Fuck you, Miller! You’re gonna be eating those words!”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that, kid. Show us what you got, why don’t you?” And that’s the same too, unfortunately.

“That’s a strike, wouldn’t you say, Tommy?”

“Sure looked like a strike to me, Joel.” All a bit juvenile, though she would expect nothing less from the Miller brothers. They’re in fine form this afternoon, she thinks, and it seems that all the other girls home from college think the same thing as well, hanging off the chain-link fence and tittering to each other about every ball Joel fields or every fifteen-year-old Tommy stamps out on first. Joel’s idea, no doubt, his eighteen-year-old brother always too happy to hang onto his shirttails and terrorize the pubescent neighborhood kids.

And for his part, Joel seems to know he’s garnered a small audience, just a touch too much flare when the teams switch out and he steps up to bat. He’s dressed in an obscenely short pair of cut-offs, frayed hems grazing along the tan, corded muscles of his thighs. Hi-tops and tube socks, and what once could have been called a shirt, now cropped and unbuttoned so it doesn’t do much but blow in the breeze and expose the lean tautness of his torso. Stance wide, leaning down low in his hips, he winds up the bat right behind his head and lets it rip entirely too hard on the lob he was pitched by that poor fifteen-year-old, sending the ball soaring right over the fence. She has to scoff when the girls she’s standing next to actually clap for him while he drinks it up as he takes a leisurely jog around the plates before jumping down on home with both his feet. And yeah, she thinks, not much has changed, at all.

“Will! Mom wants you home for dinner, let’s go!” Her baby brother, who has decided he is definitely not a baby anymore, does not like her shouting at him one bit, entirely ignoring her with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head from where he’s standing covering first base. Someone else, however, is more than happy to take notice of her.

“Is that? Oh shit! Cherry!” Long and drawn out, Cherryyyyyyyy, with a low whistle at the end. She hasn’t been called that since the last time she saw him, which was last summer in about this same position. Though if there’s one thing she’s gotten good at, it’s ignoring Joel Miller.

“Will, let’s go please!”

“Oh c’mon, Cherry! Why don’t you come over here and show these kids how it’s done? From what I remember you always had a mean little swing.” That gets most of the kids on the field laughing as Joel and Tommy snicker to each other in the makeshift dug out, more of a dirt ditch with a sheet of metal over top of it than anything else.

“Will, I’m not asking, I’m telling. Now.” Maybe she looks like a bitch stomping out onto the field to grab her brother by the arm. She doesn’t care. She’s hot and has sweat dripping in places that sweat should never drip and is coming dangerously close to throttling Joel in front of his little fan club if he doesn’t shut his smug mouth real soon.

“Stop, you’re embarrassing me.” Will doesn’t budge from first when she hooks her hand around his bicep, brooding at her from beneath his bowl cut.

“Do you think I want to be taking you home? Just do me a favor and stop trying to act all tough in front of your little friends so I can go home and get mom off my ass.”

“Hey, Cherry, he’s already got one mom. He doesn’t need you nagging him too!” Joel’s dig drums up another round of laughs from the whole field, and suddenly she’s reconsidering that whole throttling thing. Fine, she thinks, she can do nagging, just wait and see how good she can do nagging. She shifts her tactic, grabbing her brother by the back of his neck instead and starting to haul him along beside her, not giving him time to do anything but trip over his feet in a stilted shuffle to keep up. And of course, it is at that moment that Joel gets the whole crowd of kids started in a chorus of boos.

“Damn, Cherry, when did you become such a tight-ass?” Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the girls still standing along the fence shooting her daggers, maybe it’s just a little bit of all of it that makes her stop dead in her tracks when Joel says that. But before she really knows what she’s doing, she has let go of her brother to march right over to home plate. Seeming a bit surprised that she did, Joel scrambles out of the dug out still too smug for her taste when he comes chest to chest with her.

“Well are you going to give me a bat or what?” His smirk slips into a full grin at that, and for a moment she remembers how pretty she always thought he was. Strong jaw, dark eyes, and that shock of thick, brown hair of his. Such a shame that he’s an enormous tool, really.

“I tell you what, Cherry, what time does your mom want Will home every night?” She knows that look he has in his eyes, all squinted up with his mouth screwed to one side. Always a sucker for a challenge, and she’s all too happy to play along.

“Seven o’clock, why?” He leans in a little closer, ducking his head down like he has the most delicious secret to tell her. She can see the sweat beading and pooling in the hollow of his throat he’s so close.

“Seven o’clock, alright, Cherry. If you can hit a homerun, I will personally see to it that Will is home at seven o’clock on the dot every night for the rest of the summer. How’s that sound?” She tilts her head, hands on her hips like she’s giving it a good think before finally answering him.

“Does he really hang out with you every night?” Joel snorts, his smile going slanted at her.

“Well, someone’s got to keep the kid entertained since you got all boring, miss college.”

“Fine, give me a bat.” That gets her a big grin from him as he backpedals to the dug out to grab a bat for her.

“Let’s switch out who’s fielding. I wanna be on short stop for this hit.” Of course he does. But she thinks to herself that that’s just fine, she’s going to give him a hit to remember.

Tommy was always the nicer of the pair, and as he walks out of the dugout to cover first, he offers her a smile and a shrug as if to apologize for his brother’s dramatics. She always liked Tommy better, even as kids.

She hasn’t done this in a long time. Not since before puberty, probably. She used to play every summer with the Millers and all the other neighborhood kids in this exact lot, and it starts to come back to her as she toes the rubber of her sneakers against home plate. Her palms twist up on the bat, hips shimmying down and back a little to get into the stance, trying her best to focus on the pitcher and not the drawling heckling going on between second and third. He’s doing a warbling rendition of that old Four Seasons song, and she’s pretty sure that the name in the lyrics is Sherry, not Cherry. But he has made it fit with his own demented drone, crooning as he sways a little side to side.

Cherryyyyy, Cherry, baby, Cherryyyyy, can you come out tonight

Youuuuu better ask your mama, Cherry baby

Deep breath in, deep breath out, she has her eyes focused on the ball leaving the soft cradle of the pitcher’s fingers. Like riding a bike, really, the quick swing in her hips and the satisfying crack of the ball hitting the middle of her bat, and, oh. Oh.

“Motherfucker!” It’s not like she meant to, but it’s also not like she’s mad that she did. It was a nice hit, strong and straight, right between second and third. And, well, straight into Joel’s groin.

“What are you doing? Get up, man!” Tommy is all but shrieking at his brother. Joel, however, is still crumpled on the ground and groaning, his hands clenched between his thighs from what she can tell with her quick glances as she jogs from first to second. But she quickly realizes that it’s not just his hands clutched between his legs, but the ball too. And, well, it doesn’t look like he’ll be getting up anytime soon to field that one.

“If you could have him home more around ten till that’d be great, thanks.” If he hears her talking over his curled up body, he makes no show of it, still groaning and writhing around in the dirt with his eyes scrunched shut. She steps over him and continues a much more leisurely pace through third and home.

“Will, let’s go.” Her brother, slack-jawed with his eyes practically popping out of his head, finally listens to her, falling into step alongside her as she can’t help a smirk sliding over her lips. She has to roll her eyes when several of the girls rush out onto the field to fawn over Joel who still seems to be incapacitated and on his knees.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” She tries not to laugh at Will’s exclamation, bumping his shoulder with her own as they start to head home.

“He’ll live.”

…

Sure, he’s always had a competitive streak, he’s not about to deny that. But that competitive streak may, emphasis on may, have gotten a little out of hand now that it’s his baby girl that’s in the competition and not him. Sarah has a talk with him before every game about it. About not yelling at the umpire, about not constantly asking her if she’s staying hydrated in the dugout, and, what she calls the most important point, about not trying to heckle the other team. And everytime, Joel promises her that, yes, he’s going to keep his cool and stay on the bleachers like every other normal and sane parent. And he tries, he really does. But, well, try is the operative word.

“Alright, babygirl, just like we practiced. Keep your eye on the ball and let your hips lead.” It’s the middle of June, the sun bright and beating down hard on the local ball fields where Joel spends most of his weekends cheering Sarah on in her softball matches. He is not sitting on the bleachers like every other normal and sane parent. He is hovering at the side of the dug-out with his head stuck out just enough that the umpire won’t yell at him to get back while he coaches Sarah on her swing. Sarah, however, does not seem particularly grateful for his pointers, glaring at him from beneath her helmet as she steps up to the plate.

“Strike!” Swing and a miss. Joel has to remind himself that no, it is not appropriate to swear at a little league softball game, settling instead for a quick clap of his hands.

“That’s alright, baby, that’s alright. Shake it off, baby, focus.”

“Dad, please.” She says it with a dejected tap of her bat against the plate, the universal sign for back off, now. And sure, he thinks, he can back off, a few feet back toward the bleachers so his girl can focus on her swing, sure.

“Strike two!”

“Goddamnit.” He says it quietly enough that he’s pretty sure no one else hears it before stepping back closer to the plate, because obviously Sarah needs a little help here.

“C’mon, baby, you got this. Shake it off. Don’t choke up on the bat like that, baby, nice and easy.”

“Strike three, you’re–”

“Hey, that wasn’t a strike!” Sarah is going to be so mad at him on the drive home, but he’s too busy stepping over to the umpire to yell at him to be worried about that right now.

“Sir, please go sit down on the bleachers.”

“That pitch was way to the right, I saw it, that wasn’t a strike.”

“Dad, it’s fine, I’m out. Just go sit down, please.” Sarah has already taken her helmet off, nudging her bat into the toe of his boot like, hello, you’re embarrassing me here. But Joel knows what he saw, and what he saw was a way to the right pitch that most certainly was not a strike.

“Baby, you are not out, okay? Put your helmet back on.”

“Sir, your daughter is out, now please go sit–”

“Just give her one more shot, man. C’mon.”

“Hey! Three strikes and you’re out, buddy.” It’s a woman’s voice, coming from somewhere behind him, a parent from the other team most likely, though he doesn’t turn around to see who it is, still staring down the umpire.

“That wasn’t a strike!” He tosses the exclamation over his shoulder, but the woman doesn’t seem ready to back down either.

“Are you saying my daughter doesn’t know how to pitch?” Alright, lady, if you want in on the action, be his guest. He turns around slowly, ready to deliver some sort of clever reply that he hasn’t quite worked out in his mind when–

“Oh shit. Cherry?”

“Wow, I haven’t been called that in nearly two decades.” So it is her. And of course it’s her. He’d recognize her anywhere, even seventeen years later. Still that little jut of her hip when she’s pissed, still that little crook of her chin like a challenge, even seventeen years later.

“So you’re still a competitive bastard then?” Yeah, and still that too, seventeen years later.

“I– you– that wasn’t a strike.”

“Oh, yes it was.”

“It was not.”

“My daughter doesn’t pitch balls on two strikes, okay? That was a strike.” With that, she leans to the side to talk to Sarah standing behind him.

“My condolences to you for having to deal with him, kid.”

“Thanks, you’re catching him on a good day, actually.”

“Hey.” He whips around to scold Sarah, but she’s still focused on Cherry.

“How do you know my dad?”

“Oh, me and him go way back. Don’t we, Joel?” He finds himself opening and closing his mouth a few times, looking between Sarah and a woman he thought he would never see again, though before he can get a reply out, the umpire mercifully cuts off their little reunion.

“Folks, there is still an active game going on here. Sir, your daughter is out, so if you could all please get off of home plate so we can keep this game going that’d be great.” Sarah has to tug him back to her team’s dugout, promptly pushing him over and onto the bleachers while he continues to stare at Cherry like she might disappear. She has walked back to the bleachers for her daughter’s team, though she stands on the sideline with her hands on her hips now.

“You’re all good, Els. Just keep them coming, babe.” His attention draws over to the pitcher to whom Cherry is talking to because, right, she’s Cherry’s daughter. Cherry has a daughter, holy shit. Well, so does he. He has to laugh to himself, a little shake to his head.

A lot can certainly happen in seventeen years.

…

The thing that she hadn’t considered in agreeing to Joel Miller’s little deal was that it would still mean seeing a good amount of Joel Miller. Seven o’clock every night to be exact. Actually, ten till, so he did listen, at least. And of course he’s all smiles and charm, and of course her mother invites him in for dinner every night, and of course he says yes, and of course she has to sit across from him, kicking away his foot every time it encroaches on her space.

“So, Joel, are you still over at Thatcher’s full time?” She tries not to scoff at her mother’s question, the subtle turn of her nose and the slight tinge of judgment quirking up the end of her words. Her mother and her penchant for pedigree, something that the Miller family definitively does not have. If it bothers him, however, Joel doesn’t show it, smiling and thumbing the corner of his mouth as he finishes chewing.

“Yes, ma’am, seven days a week.”

“And does that pay well, son?” Ah yes, the one-two tag team of her mother and father both jumping in now, her father doing that thing where he pretends not to know, his eyebrows falling in mock curiosity. When, really, she’s nearly certain he has already calculated in his head exactly how much Joel makes in a week, month, and year busting his ass in that mechanic shop.

“Well, sir, I’ve got no complaints. Roof over my head and food on my table. And, uh, the tips are pretty good.” That one flies right over both her parents’ heads, but he says it looking directly at her, his eyes crinkling up with a smile that only tugs one corner of his mouth, sleaze and smarm. She is well aware of the tips he pulls in from all the bored little housewives and their daughters, something that always seems to be the topic of conversation on the loungers at the community pool.

If he’s trying to get a rise out of her right now, she’s going to make sure he fails at it, giving him a tight-lipped smile and kicking his shin hard under the table where his foot has started to nudge against hers again. Joel lets out a hard cough, the table shaking a bit when his knee jumps up in reaction.

“Alright, son?”

“Yessir, I think all this heat is finally getting to me is all. I better head on home, but thank y’all for the meal, it’s very kind of you.” Her mother frets and fusses over him, insisting he take a tupperware of meatloaf and salad home and telling him to bring Tommy along next time. Great, she thinks, frick and frack both coming for dinner will be double the fun. Though she’s quickly distracted from that thought when her father lets out a long sigh from the head of the table.

“Such a shame that young man is working like that. It’s a waste of potential, honestly.”

“Oh, honey, don’t.”

“I’m serious, Carol. He was always a smart kid, probably could have gone to college, but instead he’s working in that car shop with seemingly no drive for anything more for himself. I just can’t believe Deedee and Hank are letting him carry on like that.” She knows this spiel well. Next her father will angle his chair toward Will and level his finger at him and–

“Will, you know what I was doing when I was Joel’s age?” Will huffs and rolls his eyes, slumping back in his chair like this is the hundredth time he has heard this, probably because it is.

“Getting ready for law school, dad.”

“I was getting ready for– yes, son, that’s right. And now look at me. Beautiful home, beautiful family, and a good job. Do you know what Joel Miller is going to have to show for himself at my age if he keeps going the way he is now?”

“A whole lot of nothing, dad.”

“A whole lot of– yes, son, that’s right. At this rate, he’s probably still going to be living in that shoebox apartment above Thatcher’s when he’s forty.”

“Can I be excused please?” She tries to hold back the contempt snapping through her words, already getting out of her seat before her mother can ask her what’s wrong. For as much as Joel Miller gets on her nerves, she hates this more, this faux pity her father so easily slips into, turning him into a lesson. And not a very good one at that, because while Joel may not be in college or raking in money, he at least seems happy, and she thinks that’s more than her father can say. She knows it’s more than she can say, staring up at the ceiling in her bedroom, this time trying to calculate the minutes until she gets to go back to school. She only makes it through tallying up the rest of June though before something tapping on her window distracts her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Hey, Cherry.” He’s lucky her room is on the first floor, or else she would have already shut her window. Though she can’t really do that when he’s standing right there in her mother’s shrubs with a wide grin that glints in the hazy dusk.

“What do you want, Joel?”

“Mikey Donahue is having a party at his house. You wanna come? Have a little fun?”

“Uh, no, thanks.” She goes to shut her window again, but Joel holds it in place, not letting it budge no matter how hard she pushes down on it.

“Oh, c’mon. You used to be fun, what happened to that girl, huh?”

“I grew up, which seems to be more than you can say.”

“Oh, how you wound me, Cherry baby.”

“When are you going to stop calling me that? Nobody else calls me that these days except for you.”

“When you do something funnier than snorting cherry cola out of your nose.” At this point, she has given up on trying to close the window, resting her palms along the sill to lean out so she can whisper yell right into his entirely too smug face.

“I was nine, Joel. And it was your fault for making me laugh that hard.”

“So you admit that I make you laugh?”

“You’re impossible.”

“That wasn’t a no, Cher.” All she can do is huff at him and his relentless grin, taking a moment to look him over. A little more dressed than usual, still in those cut-offs of his, but with an actual flannel shirt on top, sleeves rucked up to his elbows and with a few more buttons undone than what had been during dinner, slipping open even more when he leans down with his hands spread wide on the sill.

“Come on, it’s summer, and I know you’re not having any fun up in Chicago–”

“I have plenty of fun in Chicago.” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead when she interrupts him so quick, the snap of her words telling him just how untrue that statement actually is.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say. Just do an old friend a favor, Cherry, and come out with me tonight, huh? Really, it’s the least you can do after you almost busted my balls.”

“I was doing a public good by lessening the chances of little Joel Millers running around here in the future.” He lets out a long laugh at that, tossing his head back, the long line of his neck bobbing with the sound.

“Touché, but fine, if you don’t wanna come I guess I could always go knock on Lisa-Anne’s window. She got home last week.” He knows exactly what he’s doing by saying that, already pushing off the window and starting to walk away. Fine, she thinks, he can go have fun with stupid fucking Lisa-Anne from down the block. It’ll probably make her whole summer considering that she’s had a crush on him since his front teeth came in in the second grade.

“Joel, wait!” He stops dead in his tracks, one foot still stuck in the shrubs outside her window as he turns around, his lips pursed to stave off what she’s sure would be a shit-eating grin. She’s already swinging one leg out of her window, trying to do so with as much grace as she can, though she still stumbles a bit in the shrubs,grabbing onto Joel’s arm to steady herself before quickly letting go with a huff.

“Just for a little while, okay?”

“Whatever you say, Cherry baby.”

…

He’s not sure what the appropriate thing to do is in this situation. Not really any rules of etiquette for seeing a woman you didn’t think you’d ever see again, seventeen years later, and with a kid no less. All he knows is that he can’t let her drive off without saying something, so even as Sarah is calling his name like a question, he’s walking through the ballfield parking lot toward where she’s helping her daughter pack her bags into the trunk of their minivan.

“Uh, hey.” Great start, man, Jesus Christ. She turns around and smiles, smiles, and suddenly it’s summer of ‘86 all over again.

“Woah, old man, back off a little.” And suddenly it is most definitely not summer of ‘86, her kid stepping between the two of them and giving him a look that could kill.

“Ellie, manners please. Why don’t you wait in the car?”

“But, mom–”

“No buts, it’s fine, alright? I’ll just be a minute.” Her daughter, Ellie, huffs, giving him one more squinted look before she shuffles over to the side of the car, getting in with a hard slam of her door.

“So, mom, huh?” She tilts her head at him, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans and her shoulders shrugging up.

“It looks that way. And dad?” She jerks her chin over his shoulder and he turns around to see Sarah standing by their car with one hand held over her eyes for shade as she squints at them. She’s never going to let him live this down.

“Looks that way, yeah. Are you– I didn’t– you’re back in town?” He’s trying to subtly look for a ring on her left hand, though her knuckles are still tucked into her jean pockets, and he’s pretty sure squinting at her pelvis is not a good way to make an impression in this unexpected reunion.

“Yeah, we moved back at the start of June.”

“And when you say we, that’s– that’s you and–”

“Just Ellie and I, yep.” He has to try really hard not to smile at that, dragging a palm down his scruff to keep it at bay.

“So you never left, huh?”

“Uh, no, nope. Hopped a few neighborhoods over though. I don’t know if you heard, but the old block got torn down.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was, they put in a bunch of condos over it.”

“Well I guess the times really have changed.” He should probably say something else, should probably get back to Sarah, but he can’t stop looking at her, and it seems like she can’t stop looking at him. Both of them studying all the places that time and life has settled. Her hair is shorter, he likes it, though he probably should keep that to himself. Before he can say anything, however, the blare of a car horn startles them both out of each other’s gaze.

“Mom, let’s go.” Ellie has stuck her head out of the driver side window, the source of their interruption, already tucking back inside the car with another groan. Cherry just shakes her head.

“That’s my cue. I guess we’ll see each other around then, since our daughters are playing in the same league and all.” It still gives him pause, our daughters, and he has to clear his throat before responding.

“I guess so, reckon we’re gonna give the umps a summer to remember.” She laughs, and he remembers that sound, still the same. He didn’t think he’d ever get to hear it again, but now he’s glad that he does.

“For the record, that was a strike.”

“Whatever you say, Cherry.”

“Can’t believe you’re still calling me that.”

“Can’t believe you never did anything funnier than snorting cherry coke out of your nose.” All he gets from her at that is another shake of her head before she turns around to get in her car. Luckily, she doesn’t see the way he runs right into the open trunk of someone else’s car because of the way he’s slowly shuffling backward to get one more look at those jeans of hers from behind. He only realizes that he’s smiling like a fool when he gets into the car and Sarah shoots him a look from the passenger seat.

“Okay, you’re acting weird. Who was that?”

“Just a very old friend.”

........................................

tags for the moots and folks i think are interested - lmk if you want added or dropped : @casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #hungry hearts

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