#and updating my masterlist will fix my whole life

[imaginespazzi]

Part 6: Leaps of Faith

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)

(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3

April 2024 

“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow. 

“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest. 

If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens. 

“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly. 

“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression. 

Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”

“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”. 

“You hate trying new things.”

“I’ve grown up I guess.”

“Azzi.”

“Mom.”

“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”

“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully. 

“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”

Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week. 

“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”

Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings. 

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”

“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”

“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look. 

“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”

“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”

“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.  

“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”

Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.

Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”

“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”

Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart. 

“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”

“Why do you need to?”

Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”

“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”

Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”

“What if you run away again?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”

“I didn’t choose Zoe-”

“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”

“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”

“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.

“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”

“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”

“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”

***

The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.

One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe. 

And then Paige looks away. 

And Azzi’s back to struggling for air. 

It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together. 

Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times. 

And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige. 

“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”

A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams. 

“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome. 

It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get. 

As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere. 

Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words. 

“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin. 

“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this. 

“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”

She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too. 

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”

Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith. 

“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically. 

“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back. 

“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow. 

“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”

“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”

Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever. 

“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against. 

“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”

“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”

And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home. 

***

July 2024 

The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly. 

There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough. 

Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing. 

“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”

“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”

“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit. 

“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”

Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”

“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too. 

He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”

“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle. 

“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”

Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer. 

“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”

“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter. 

Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”

“I don’t-”

“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied. 

“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”

“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”

“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe. 

“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed. 

“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”

Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room. 

“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”

Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”

She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place. 

“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.  

“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”

***

October 2024

Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough. 

“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings. 

“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”

“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand. 

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe. 

“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”

Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”

“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again. 

“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance. 

“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”

“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship. 

“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”

Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”

***

“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”

Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically. 

“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”

And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.

“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose. 

“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

***

Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away. 

“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”

“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?” 

“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically. 

“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”

“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”

“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale. 

“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”

“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige. 

“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand. 

The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp. 

“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”

Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”

“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever. 

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks. 

Click. 

And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together. 

***

December 2024 

There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin. 

“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”

“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other. 

“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”

“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”

It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window. 

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty. 

“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”

“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”

“Exactly. That’s exciting.”

“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile. 

“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.

“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”

Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious. 

“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand. 

“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”

And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other. 

“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”

And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi. 

“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”

They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them. 

***

April 2025

7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head. 

The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun. 

With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship. 

Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles. 

As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life. 

Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde. 

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless. 

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm. 

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it. 

“Say it again,” Paige demands. 

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug. 

And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.

[etherealising]

updating my blog so ignore the spam posting, but in the meantime enjoy the recent [aiekoy] update! 🤍

[infinitywrites]

I Didn't Expect You ~ Conrad Fisher

(Part 2) (Masterlist)

gif credit @henryofwales

synopsis: Y/N never expected it to be the summer that everything changed. Conrad, Belly and Steven were all dealing with the consequences of recent break ups while Jeremiah's wasn't acting like himself. Susannah was undergoing treatment that provided unpredictable health results and kept her loved ones on the edge of tragedy. Had they drained the well of the magic of Cousin's beach? Or could something new fulfil it again?

warnings: multichapter slow burn, warnings will update with every chapter, timeline is post SEASON 2 with changes, Susannah is sick, Belly is heartbroken, Jere is bitter, Conrad is struggling, everyone swears, Laurel/Cleveland, Belly and YN briefly critique their bodies but the focus is ultimately positive

word count: 2,275

___________________________________________

Is it cool that I said all that?

Is it too soon to do this yet?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

Isn't it, isn't it, isn't it?

This summer there was no one to greet us when we pulled up at the beach house. It was quiet but the beauty of Cousin's Beach and the house itself was as overwhelming on first glance as it had always been. Maybe the sky seemed filled with a few more clouds, darker even without someone to remind the boys that the Conklin-Parks had arrived. Either way, Steven and Belly didn't seem to notice and were already grabbing their bags and bickering about who had their house key handy.

"Do you think we're the first ones here?" I asked as I walked up slowly to the property to look for signs of life.

Belly was by your side in moments, "No, Jere said he was picking up Rosie's for lunch. He should be here somewhere. They were supposed to get here a little early to make sure Susannah was all set up with…everything." I just nodded and watched her walk to the door with the key. It wasn't surprising that she didn't mention Conrad.

Belly had already vented her nerves about coming at all after her breakup with Conrad at Prom. I didn't blame her and assured her I'd be right by her side no matter what happened or what was said. Belly and Conrad grew up together just like the rest of us and if no one else would make sure a failed romance wasn't going to ruin that forever, I definitely was. They hadn't talked since and I promised I'd help her fix it and I would. Conrad would be reasonable about it whether he liked it or not. I was always a fixer, the Mom friend if you will, and there was no reason this could be fixed.

Last summer when I saw it brewing between them I couldn't help but worry. Of course, I wanted Belly to have what she'd always wanted but could Conrad really return her feelings of adoration and worship the same way? Apparently yes, for the six months they were together at least. But it had been three months since the breakup and I knew I had to do everything I could to refocus the group into supporting each other. There had been too much drifting and it broke my heart. Despite life changes causing difficulty in the planning of it all, everyone had agreed to come back to Cousin's for the 4th at Susannah's request so that was a great start. She would have insisted on the whole summer if she'd had the energy but it was time to accept that some things would just never be the same again. We were barely children anymore and the summers were going to change.

"Y/N! Come on, Jere's got apple cinnamon for you!" Steven called out to me from the open front door.

As soon as I entered the house, the smell washed over me, my shoulders sagging in relief and the comfort of finally being here and smellling that smell brought me. The greetings were quieter when I walked into the familiar kitchen full of people I loved most, just like pulling up to the house but that was okay too. Jeremiah squeezed me just as tight as he always had even if he didn't shout my name and lift me off your feet. This wasn't even the whole gang of people who'd been through hell and back the last year but we were all here. All coming back for Susannah's favourite holiday.

The pressure I put on this last summer before I moved halfway across the country to start my freshman year at Stanford wasn't fair to anyone, especially myself but it felt like the end of an era. With Susannah's health changing everyday, I wasn't sure if it could ever be the same again. Was the magic gone? And if so, could it ever come back again? The test would be when the house was full and the party planning was in full force. Susannah would put us all to work and everything would feel normal again even just for a little while.

"What the--Ohmigod!" I spun around and used my hands to block the cold water drops spraying all over me. "Fuck you too, cretin," I said glaring at the shit-eating grin standing in black surfing gear that awaited me.

Conrad has snuck up behind me during small talk and shook his shaggy soaked hair into the back of my exposed neck. "Always a pleasure Y/N, " he finally said, nodding without looking in my direction again and focusing on greeting the other new arrivals.

I was happy to see a short but sweet acknowledgement between him and Belly and she didn't even look like she wanted to die after so maybe this wouldn't be as hard as I thought. Laurel showed up last, announcing her presence at the door and warning everyone not to embarrass her in front of Cleveland. It was a surprise but a happy one and I knew instantly that Susannah was going to lose her mind in the best way. Conrad mentioned that she would sleep until dinner around 6pm so don't be late.

The boys made plans that didn't interest me or Belly and just as I thought they were leaving I saw Jeremiah pause and look at the guys with intent. Belly was always quick on the uptake and tried to protest but the tradition held strong. The boys celebrated a successful throw that had poor Belly flailing in the air so long it felt like slo mo and this time none of them fell for her tricks and got pulled into the pool after her. Not even me, though I should have when I felt bad for a moment, held my hand out and walked towards the edge of the pool in her direction. Conrad was quicker and scooped me right up off my feet from behind, just in time to escape Belly's trap as I gasped at the realization.

"You wouldn't! I didn't throw you in!"

"Yeah, and you didn't try stop them either!" But even in her feigned anger she was chuckling as she swam to the ladder.

After the shock left my body, I joined the boys in hysterical laughter. Conrad was still holding me tight but he must have lost his balance as I crashed to the ground on top of him. He was still in a fit, only uttering the occasional "ow" which spurred on more giggles that infected everyone else. I got myself together before he did and had to pry his surprisingly strong, wiry arms from my waist to be able to stand again.

"My god, you're like a world's tallest spider monkey." I was trying to give him shit but but the sight of him giggling on the ground made him look like a sweet toddler.

That helped sober him a little, "You love it...besides I saved your ass. You should be thinking up ways to thank me." I only caught his smirk after brushing the grass off my clothes but it was enough to stop me in my tracks and stare him down.

"Yeah, I'll get right on that." This was ridiculous and everyone was listening to the two of us– but no, we'd always done this. This was the root of the relationship I'd always had with the oldest Fisher brother. He riled me up and I gave him shit. Simple. "Let me know if you have any special requests," I said over my shoulder as I headed back inside.

"Good idea! I'll text you!" He was yelling now, the idiot, but it was still making the boys laugh so the final word would be Conrad's this time. I could have sworn I'd heard him mumble about how uptight I could be and I was rolling my eyes as I met Belly in the hallway with an exasperated smile that she shared.

Conrad Fisher and I had never been the closest of the group, always seeming to piss each other off in one way or another as kids. Susannah had said that our personalities clashed and that it was a great challenge to overcome as we matured. Anyone would say that both of us were still working on the maturely overcoming it part. It's not like I thought he was a bad guy; he was my friend no matter what, someone who knew me better than most without even trying. If I set a hard boundary he was the first to listen, respect it and make sure everyone else did too while also being the one to lay into me if I screwed up somehow or rib me to death for acting stupid. It was infuriating at worst and addictive at best so I never judged Belly's undying admiration. He was always the leader of the group as the oldest and that came with a certain power that I later realized was also responsibility. Sometimes he knew what I needed even before I did. It was eerie, that sixth sense he had. He was actually pretty damn good at taking care of everyone so sometimes I even let him take care of me too. If Conrad was the fearless leader then Belly was the baby and while he made it look easy taking care of everyone else, I always knew how to take extra special care of her.

The two of you headed upstairs to the room you shared. It originally had a double bed for Belly but Susannah quickly changed it to two singles side by side the second summer you visited. Belly and I liked our tradition of unpacking first; it felt like being at our second home where everything had a place.

"So...how was it?"

I could hear Belly rolling her eyes before she even spoke. "Okay, it could have been worse. I thought he wouldn't even speak to me."

"Why wouldn't he speak to you?"

"Because the last thing he said to me was that he could never give me what I wanted and that I deserved better." She was frustrated as she said it and I couldn't help but sigh.

"I mean, there are worse things to say when you're breaking up with someone..."

"Y/N!"

"What? I'm sorry! It doesn't mean you aren't allowed to be hurt, I'm just saying at least he wasn't a jerk about it." I shrugged and put my pile of new pajamas in the bottom drawer.

Belly paused and turned to look at me, "He said he was sorry it happened that night but he didn't want to be angry at us anymore. Not even me, Y/N, but us."

I got up and went to stroke her arm in a soothing rhythm, "It wasn't fair how it happened but you said you could feel it coming."

Her eyes start to shine with unshed tears, "I thought it was Susannah...I didn't think it could just be me..." When her pretty brown eyes closed the tears ran down her cheeks but she didn't break down, she didn't sob. She just took a deep, steadying breath as her body shifted underneath my hand.

"Hey, it wasn't you, it was him. Look at you, it couldn't have been you, you're stunning!" I shook her shoulders as her lips turned up at the corners. "Absolute perfection! Come here and see." I guided Belly towards the full length mirror on the corner of the room and planted her right in front of it. "Now, I know you thought Conrad was Prince Charming and you'd live happily ever after but fairytales aren't real. But this volleyball bod is." I smacked her butt to make my point and snap her out of her gloomy daze.

"Oh! You're so ridiculous they need to invent a new word–" Hearing her giggle was always a joy because Belly giggled without a hint of shame.

"I'm not finished! I know a breakup can kill your confidence a bit and I need you to look at yourself and really see what you're bringing to the table this hot girl summer."

Even through a big smile she shook her head, "God no, you are so embarrassing."

"I mean, come on, tight ass already acknowledged, newish boobs that are perfectly perky as ever and the prettiest smile on the face of the planet! You can have any boy you want, Isabel Conklin!"

Belly's smile fell a bit as and twisted and turned in the mirror. "You don't think my shoulders are kinda...broad?"

I hung my head as the patience exited my body with a slump. "You're actually insane. Some of us have real problems like cellulite on our thighs and an ass that doesn't fit in most jeans."

"Oh, shut up! Steven told me Frankie and those guys call you 'the ass that won't quit'."

"Belly, I'm not sure that's a compliment." I didn't hate the nickname as long as they didn't say it to my face but I still wasn't sure it meant good things.

"You're delulu, Y/N. Okay, we gotta stop. You're right. Hot girl summer with me and my cousin in Cousin's!" She grabbed my hand and started shifting her feet like we were about to have an impromptu dance party.

I covered my face with my hands and stifled a giggle at the silly phrase, "I fucking hate when you start that shit..." And just like I expected, as my chuckle became a belly laugh, my baby cousin turned on the Bluetooth speaker in my room and we danced out all the pent up heartbreak, nerves, grief and leftover stress and sent it back home where it belonged.

___________________________________________

Author's note: I promise there is so much Conrad and romance coming up even if it wasn't much in this chapter! I hope you stick with me if you saw the potential. So much of this story was inspired by fics I've read in the last few weeks and this is my thank you! Reply with comments and let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist. If you'd like to ask me about any upcoming chapter warnings you wanna be warned of ahead of time (angst? 18+ smut?) then come visit my blog with any questions and I'll be happy to answer!

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iv

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: This time, it's different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. At this point he’s stopped lying to himself – Joel’s here to see you.  pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.6k chapter warnings: some angst, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts and actions (but no smut -- as always, dm if you want specifics), divorce mention. a/n: The next few weeks of my life will be insane (and NOT just because succession is coming back). I want to keep updating this, but something's gotta give, because the way I've been writing is not sustainable unfortunately. So updates may end up being shorter and the fic having more parts, or updates might be less frequent with longer parts. Also, a question for my loyal readers: Do you make your shirley temples with ginger ale or with Sprite/7up? Because I came from a sprite/7UP family but once i discovered ginger ale instead i was HOOKED. So i am a Ginger Ale Shirley Temple Truther.

-May 5, 2003-

Please pick up, please pick up, you cross your arms in front of you, looking over your shoulder. The pointed toe of your heels clacks against the asphalt as you tap it repeatedly, a steady beat. You have no reason to be so nervous, right now. It must have something to do with who you are calling, not just why. 

“Hello?” the droning ring is interrupted by a voice that sounds skeptical, they don’t recognize your number.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Hey, you,” his tone evens out when he hears you say his name. He had given you his cell phone number a few weeks back, the night he’d caught you smoking on your back porch. In case I’m not home and something’s goin’ on with Sarah, he’d said. It made sense, though all it did was tempt you to call him many times before this, and not about Sarah. You were worried because…maybe this was out of line.

There’s noises in the background that threaten to drown Joel out – saws and various power tools whirring, a jackhammer, men calling out to each other. It’s loud. At your job, you close the door to your office if someone is typing too loud on their keyboard. “I uh- I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

You hear a door shut in response, and the noise fades to a low purr. “Not at all. Everything okay? Sarah alright?”

“Yeah, this isn’t about her, though. I hope that’s okay.”

“It depends,” In your mind, right now he’s leaning against a messy metal desk, one of his hands planted on its surface to keep himself stable, the muscles in his forearm flexing under tension. He’s got a toolbelt slung low over the waistband of his Carhartt’s. He’s a little sweaty – it’s hot out, today – his cheeks flushed, pieces of dark hair clinging to his forehead. The image is doing something for you, and you have to take a deep, measured breath to reset before you can answer him.

“Do you…know anything about cars?” you ask. 

“A little….why?”

“I took my car to get serviced, and…I’m pretty sure I’m about to be swindled.” You hesitate, then qualify. “I didn’t have anyone else to call, and…you seem like you might be good with this sort of thing.”

There are a lot of things you know a lot about, and cars are just not one of them. From your perspective, a car is simply a means to get from Point A to Point B, and the less you know about the how, the better. Although your complete lack of understanding definitely doesn’t help you in your current situation. You’d considered calling your brother, and even your father – but you knew they’d be no help, having lived in Manhattan their whole lives. 

Bradley had a nice car, but you suspected it was more for his image, and less because he knew anything about them. Plus, you didn’t really ask for much of each other outside of sex – and if you started too, it might initiate another talk about where you ‘see him in your future’, and the thought alone is grating, because you don’t. 

Since you moved away from home, you’ve spent a lot of time asserting to yourself that you’re completely independent. But moments like this remind you that it’s not entirely true…it’s not possible to be on your own in the way you want, and you always end up needing someone. 

“I might be able to help.” Joel sounds unconcerned. “What’s goin’ on?”

“They just told me my car needs a new battery, and I need new tires.”

“How old are they?”

“I don’t know like-” your phone vibrates furiously in your hand, an incoming call from your coworker. “Oh my god, leave me alone,” you groan out loud. “-Not you, Joel, sorry. I stepped away for lunch and…you know how it goes. Anyways, I don’t think I’ve gotten either of them changed since I got my car.”

“How old is your car?”

“Seven years.”

“Good lord,” Joel mutters, and he sounds somewhat disappointed. “Yeah, you should get both those things.”

“They weren’t lying? It’s gonna cost a couple hundred bucks.”

“No, I doubt they were,” he gives a warm chuckle, and it melts away some of your stress, even if your wallet is about to take a considerable hit. “Where’d you take your car?”

“I don’t know, just…some place around the corner from where I work.”

“In the future, you should go to Robert’s place in town. He’s done some work on my truck. Probably will cost a lot less.”

“Noted,” you nod. “Thanks so much, sorry for catching you at work.”

“Not at all, I don’t mind…” Joe answers. “Shipments keep getting delayed, so…it’s been kind of a slow day.”

“I’m jealous,” you say. “Because I swear, lately, whenever I leave the office for more than two minutes everything explodes….or at least it feels that way.”

“Sounds like you’re important,” Joel says, you can hear his smile over the phone, see it, practically. 

Scoffing, you answer. “Hardly. But uh, thanks again. I definitely owe you one.”

You expect him to say goodbye, so you’re surprised by what he asks next. “What are you doing Friday?” 

“I don’t know. What are you doing Friday?”

“I’m assumin’ Sarah’s probably left something at your place….if you’re gonna be around, I might stop by to get it….”

“You want me to smoke you up?” 

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant,” You’re direct.

“Look, I’m just sayin’ if it happens, I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I already told you, you’re welcome anytime,” you say. “But won’t Sarah-oh wait, no, she has that school dance, doesn’t she?”

Sarah had taken to writing important events in her life on the calendar that hung on your fridge. It was usually blank, you were good enough at remembering your own plans without utilizing it. But she had told you the empty calendar made her sad, so now it was filled with her doodles and notes, scribbled with blue glitter gel pen. And Friday night’s event she’d underlined three times.

“She does,” Joel answers, seemingly amused. 

Another call comes through on your phone. “Okay, yeah, I gotta go. But I’ll be around Friday.”

“Then maybe I’ll stop by,” Joel says, and you ignore the flash of heat through your abdomen – excitement – at the idea of him coming over.  “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 9, 2003-

Joel arrives at your place before the sun sets, once again. But this time, it is different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. Of course, he’s got his excuse, but really, at this point he’s stopped lying to himself – he’s here to see you. 

“Well, well, well…” you open the screen door, lean against the doorframe, and cross your arms over your chest. “If it isn’t the neighborhood space cowboy.”

“You’re one to talk.” 

You squint at him, but the way the corner of your mouth quirks gives you away. “Touche.” 

God, he’s already regretting this. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. But it’s become increasingly difficult to resist you, and that’s assuming that you’re even interested. He’s all-but kissed you and he’s still not quite sure where he stands. You’re not easy to read, but he has always enjoyed a challenge. At the end of the day it’s never a bad idea for him to brush up on his flirting, Tommy’s words from a few weeks ago have been getting to him. For much as he believes it’s bound to happen, Joel doesn’t want to end up alone.

“Come on in,” you push yourself off the doorframe and lead him through your house.

The last time he’d been here you’d been wearing some long-sleeved, satin pajama set. He remembered because he spent all night trying not to touch the fabric, though maybe he was just looking for an excuse to touch you. Tonight, with your back turned towards him, his eyes wander down to the curve of your ass in your low-rise, bootcut jeans. He feels the slightest bit of shame about doing it, before deciding that what you can’t see won’t hurt you.

“How was the mechanic?” he asks once you’ve entered the back porch.

“Oh fine,” you say, sitting down on the couch, gesturing to the spot across from you. “I’m just pissed I had to spend a bunch of money on a car battery and not something more…fun.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Joel sits. “Honestly, I’m surprised you called me from the mechanic and not from a ditch on the side of the road.”

“This is my first car, Joel. I grew up in a walkable community,” you pick up an already-rolled joint, the faintest acknowledgement that you’d planned for this ahead of time – and lift it to your lips. 

“It’s okay, I’m teasing.” Joel assures, and lets his gaze linger while you smoke, just admiring, as he often does. When you pass the joint over to him, he speaks again. “I have to be good tonight, cause Sarah’s gonna be home in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, first school dance, big deal,” you raise your eyebrows. “Help me out, because I went to an all-girls school. It’s middle school. Do kids go with dates?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not that I know of. Sarah just went with a group of friends.” 

“That makes sense,” you nod. “Speaking of, I have to be good, too. I’m going to her soccer game tomorrow.”

Joel feels his brows knit together in confusion, and it causes you to continue on. “She keeps asking me to come to one, and I haven’t been able to, so I feel bad. I guess her season’s almost over.” 

“Tomorrow’s her last game…” Joel mutters, looking up towards the ceiling, where the smoke is collecting, and exhales. “But you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Obviously, but…” you shrug. “...I want to.”

He chuckles to himself, runs a hand through his hair, which is still damp from the shower he took before this. “You’re really prepared to put yourself through a middle school soccer game…” 

“Look, Joel,” Your eyes are half-lidded, focused on him, and your arm is slung over the back of the couch, fist supporting your temple. “In case you couldn’t tell…I’m doing this thing where I try to engage in the community I live in. But so far, your family members are the only ones who’ve included me in anything, so until I find someone else….” you trail off. “You’re stuck with me.”

Joel doesn’t want you to find someone else. Being stuck with you is hardly a problem. He wants to tell you, but instead, all he manages is: “We’ll be good tonight.” Still, he’s not entirely convinced that he can trust himself to make a promise like that. 

It’s a tad too early for the sun to be setting, but it’s early in May, so the weather is perfect, and he’s sort of itching to be outside. Maybe there’s something to be done before the light wanes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks you.

You seem taken aback by his request, wrinkling your nose.”….I don’t know.”

“It’s a nice night, you might enjoy yourself. And we’re in good company.” 

The grimace on your face disappears, and is replaced by something more amiable. “We are,” you tilt your, make a decision. “Yeah, okay…let’s do it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once you’ve locked your front door, closed your windows, Joel walks side-by-side with you down your driveway. You only make it about halfway down when you’re both interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name, then his. 

Your next-door neighbor, Denise Watson, leans over the railing of her front porch, while her husband John sits in a chair behind her, giving a lazy wave and returning back to his puzzlebook. Joel nods at him, and notices the color has drained out of your face. The Watsons have lived on this street since before even Joel and Sarah moved in. They’re in their late 60s, retired, all their children grown – which gives them plenty of time to get into everyone’s business. 

“Hey,” you offer the most unenthusiastic greeting he thinks he’s ever heard. You’re paranoid, and he’d laugh if it were just the two of you, alone. But it’s not, and he knows these just so happen to be neighbors you’ve been lying to.

“How are you doing, hun?” 

“I’m good,” you say softly, and Joel watches Denise’s eyes flick over his direction. 

“Same here,” he manages. 

“What are you ya’ll up to?”

“We’re just goin’ for a walk,” Joel answers, looking your way. You nod at him, wordlessly, then at Denise. 

“How lovely.” She smiles, and it’s sincere, so he knows she doesn’t suspect anything. “It’s nice to see you two getting along so well.” Even from where he’s standing, Joel sees her eyebrows lift suggestively.

You and Joel both answer the insinuation at the same time.

“Yeah, well-” 

“She looks after Sarah for me, so-”

You bob your head enthusiastically. “Mhm, yeah. Sarah. Great kid.”

Denise opens her mouth again, and you speak so quickly, Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you’re afraid of what she’s going to say next. “We gotta go,” you shuffle backwards a few steps, quickly, and collide with Joel’s chest. “Before it gets dark out,” when you turn, you’re looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Oh, alright,” Denise says, sounding a little disappointed. “Ya’ll stay safe, alright?”

“Of course,” Joel calls over his shoulder, managing a halfhearted wave before he’s trailing you around the bend in the cul-de-sac that takes you out of view from The Watsons porch.

The second you’ve made it you whirl to face him, your jaw drops, and you both erupt into laughter. You grip his bicep and lean into him, pressing your face into the cotton of his t-shirt to stifle the noise. He’s tempted to pull you under his arm all the way, but he resists the urge. Would that be okay? He’s not sure. And he’s not necessarily in the best headspace to make the decision.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, swiping under your eyes as you pull back, and start walking a few steps ahead of him. 

“It’s like I’m back in high school,” Joel says. Neither of you decide to mention what your neighbor had insinuated, but it is objectively funny. 

“Oh, I’m sure you were trouble.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Joel says. “Although I did sneak out quite a bit. But it was only to see girls – well, one girl.” 

“Sarah’s mom?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” Joel isn’t sure why he’s mentioned it. It’s not really something he’s interested in speaking on now – or ever – for that matter, even if every person he’s mentioned it to has questions. What happened? What did you do? You poor thing. Above all else, he hated being pitied. 

But you don’t press him, and change the subject. “So…a few weeks ago you had said you and Tommy had a work project you were gonna book. Did that pan out?”

Joel cocks his head, surprised you remembered. “Actually, it did. Funny you ask. Things moved slow but…we signed the contract today. I’m sort of celebrating.”

“Congratulations,” you look over your shoulder slightly to give him a genuine grin. “But uh…you should’ve told me. Had I known we were celebrating, I would’ve tried to make things more exciting.” 

“Can’t think of anything better.”

You pause, because you’ve reached the end of your cul-de-sac. “Suit yourself.” you say. “Are you gonna lead though? I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Joel expects some kind of quip in response, but you just shake your head and narrow your eyes. Tucking your hair behind your ears, he senses a bit of uneasiness. “You alright?”

“I’m fine I just…” you shake your head. “I don’t love being stoned in public.”

“You’re alright.” Joel puts his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to fall into step beside him. “Come on, darlin’, just walk with me.” It’s terrible how easily the term of endearment slips out – and he waits for your reaction. But all he feels is the way your body loosens under his touch. 

That brings him some satisfaction, but as usual, it’s not enough. Because if you’re not going to stop him, he longs to push the hair off your neck, kiss along your pulse point, feel you melt even further as his thumbs work at the muscles in your shoulders. Joel fantasizes about what his name might sound like, coming from you, in a breathless sigh. The image works him up a little too much, and he lets his hand fall back to his side.

For a while, you both walk in silence, your fingers brushing against his every so often, but neither of you acknowledge it, apologize, or decide to step further away from each other to keep it from happening again and again.

It’s a beautiful night, the warmth of the day dwindling under the blanket of thinning clouds tinted pink in the sunset. Joel is amazed at how content he feels, can’t remember the last time he’s felt this way – not worried about someone, or something, or letting anyone down. 

It’s May, so almost all the native flowers are in full bloom. Tulips planted in gardens, pansies overflowing from pots on porches, dandelions dotting pristine green lawns. Stepping away from Joel, you pause in front of an empty, overgrown lot that’s basically turned into a wildflower patch. 

“This is nice,” you say, decidedly. “It’s pretty.” 

“I told you.”

Once more, he expects some clever retort, but your eyebrows are pinched together, and you crouch to look closely at some bluebonnets that are the same color as the tight-fitting henley you’ve got on. “I know you mentioned it back there but… Sarah’s told me…about her mom.”

Joel feels himself stiffen. “Yeah….well, she never really got to know her.” 

When he’s feeling particularly remorseful, his brain replays a memory of Sarah, only four years old, toddling around the tiny apartment they lived in and calling out for her mother. His ex had left when she was so young, so he had known there was no way Sarah actually remembered her. But all her classmates had two parents, all the movies she watched at home depicted loving, complete families. That night, after tucking her in, he’d retreated to his room, and cried for the first time since his divorce. Ever since then, it was impossible to shake the feeling he wouldn’t be enough.

Sometimes, he felt better about it then others. Sarah grew out of that phase, and Joel thought that’d be the last of it. When he finally bought the house, he felt like he’d proven he could do it alone. They would be fine. That was until Joel found an old photo of him and his ex underneath Sarah’s pillow while he was changing her sheets. The discovery left him with the same feeling all over again. 

Now, in the wake of the excitement that he’s signed onto his first real contracting gig, a promotion, a raise – this information from you deflates him all over again. 

“You don’t like to talk about it?” you guess correctly. 

“Not particularly.” Normally, Joel would shut something like this down. But he can’t bring himself to be cruel to you. “We were young. What happened was for the best. I wish Sarah understood that.”

“You don’t give her enough credit. She’s a bright kid,” you answer, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Anyways, I get it. When you cut yourself off from a bad situation, it's hard. The alternative is worse, though. People forget that part.”

Joel feels a little reassured by what you’re saying. Why he immediately went on the defense when you brought it up, he’ll explore later. “I wish more people understood,” he murmurs. 

“Me too,” you nod, and you nudge him gently to keep walking. “And people process things differently. It makes sense she's curious. It’s a very human thing.” 

“I know.” What was it that you had said a few weeks back? They’re always with you, no matter what. That’s not a sentiment Joel can completely wrap his head around yet. “It does make me think sometimes…maybe she needs some else….someone who isn't…me.””

“Oh, come on, Joel,” you halt in your tracks, almost like he’s offended you in some way. You look up at him from under your eyelashes. “You’re a good man.”

Validation. He doesn’t get it often – ever, really. And he doesn’t need it, but….coming from you, he feels like he just wants more. And more. He can think of a few ways he might get it, too. Some less innocent than others. 

“Should we turn around?” he asks. You nod. 

There’s a bit of light still remaining in the sky by the time you round the corner to Joel’s street, but the sun has set long ago. He’s probably supposed to say goodbye, standing at the end of your respective driveways, but he finds that end to the evening rather disappointing. 

“You know what I can’t stop thinking about right now?” you ask, Joel. He’s a little hesitant to answer, based on the ornery glint in your eyes. All he has to do is raise his eyebrows, and you continue. “A shirley temple.”

Joel can’t help but laugh, and he sees how you light up at the sound. “You serious?” he asks. 

“I know they’re….for kids, but…I don’t know. They’re really fucking good.”

“They are,” he answers, and you’re at the end of your driveway. He hesitates for a second, thinks you might say goodbye, but you just check over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you. He does. 

“This is probably the weed talking, but I’m going to make some.” You unlock your front door, and he holds it open to let you step inside, before following. 

“You have the stuff to make them?” he questions. 

Yes, you bob your head, then walk to the corner of your front room and flick on a light. Warm light floods the room, and you walk through the archway into your kitchen. When he follows you there, your back is towards him, opening a glass-doored cabinet containing various liquor bottles, wines, cordials, and accoutrements. 

“You want one? I have to say, I’ve been making them a lot lately, and I think I’ve perfected the recipe.”

“Well in that case, I’ve gotta try,” Joel wanders to your small kitchen table, about a quarter of it covered in neat piles of paperwork. There’s a messenger bag slung over the back of a chair, and in front of it is there’s a thick contract. The page it’s opened to is riddled with blue ink, crossing through sentences, scribbled in the paper’s margins. He can’t make out any of the jargon in the fine print. Next to it sits a pair of thin black reading glasses, and a sleek fountain pen engraved with your name. 

His eyes fall next to a stack of old photographs sitting atop an opened envelope. With two fingers, he pushes the top photo off the stack, once, twice, three times, until he gets to the bottom of the pile, and they’re spread out in front of him. Maybe he shouldn’t be snooping like this, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. 

Joel doesn’t recognize the people in most of the photos. One of them is a school photo of a young boy, with Spring ‘03 printed in the lower right hand corner. But the remaining two…he realizes are of you, but you’re young, your cheeks rounder, features not quite as defined. Younger than Sarah, if he had to guess. In both, you’re wearing the same thing – a black turtleneck, a plaid skirt that hangs past your knees, and black Mary Janes. 

In one, you’re cheek to cheek with a teenage boy who you’re giving bunny ears. Your brother. Has to be. You look too similar. His arm is across your shoulders, and you’re smiling so wide your eyes are closed. 

In the other photo, though, your face is blank. A wide, empty stare, straight into the camera. Behind you, his hands on your shoulders, is an older man whose gaze has the same determined set Joel has seen on you before. Something about the photo, the haunted look on your face, makes him feel like he’s seen something he’s not supposed to, and he slides the print underneath a stack of papers.

“If you’re gonna look at those papers, I’m gonna need you to sign an NDA,” you say over his shoulder, and Joel is startled by the sound of your voice, and the feeling of a glass, cold and damp with condensation, being placed in his hand. “Here.”

You peer around his shoulder, face brushing against the side of his arm as you see the photos. “Oh,” your voice drops slightly when you realize what he’s looking at. “My brother sent those. That’s my nephew, Ethan.” You point to the school photo of the little kid, but don’t offer an explanation for any of the others. 

Joel clinks his glass with yours and notices that you’ve balanced a toothpick with two maraschino cherries on its rim. It’s refreshing, delicious, and the fizz tickles his nose as he takes the first sip. 

“Restaurant quality,” he tells you. You lean back against your counter, studying him. When you stare at him like this, as he’s caught you doing a handful of times before, it always makes him feel feral. Like some kind of animal, the way he has to hold himself back from pouncing. You look at him like there’s no one else around, and yeah, there’s no one else around right now, but even when you’re in public, you’ve done it, too. And he doesn’t know how to tell you to stop – he doesn’t really want to. “How’d you perfect the recipe?” he asks. 

“Practice,” you glance at the bubbles dancing through the ice in your glass before focusing back on him, sheepish. “Sarah likes them.”

So you’ve made them for her. Joel sits his drink down. “She does.” 

“Are you hungry?” you ask. “I think I need a snack or something.”

“You don’t have any ice cream, do you?”

“Uhhh…check the freezer?” you say over your shoulder, rummaging through your cabinets for a bowl, and Joel rises to do so. “I think I only have coffee-flavored, though.”

“Good choice,” he answers. His favorite.When he opens the freezer, he’s met with a blast of cool air, a cloud of steam. 

“You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?” you tease, coming to stand next to him, but Joel is too focused on the box of orange popsicles he sees in front of him, and pulls them out to look at the box. “You like these?”

“Not really. I’m partial to cherry.”

“Sarah loves these,” he remarks. 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t buy them for her anymore, because one time she ate twelve in one day.”

You sniff, grin. “She told me that.”

He studies the drink that you’ve set on your countertop, the box in his hand. “So you bought these for her?”

“Yeah, why?” you cross your arms, almost defensively.

“Are any of the other snacks here just for her?”

“...No,” he can tell you’re lying, and your eyes flick over his shoulder for a second. “Don’t look in that cabinet, though.” 

Joel can’t help the incredulous smile that breaks out over his face. “God, no wonder she’s always over here so much. You’re givin’ her all the junk I don’t let her eat, aren’t you?”

You hold your hands up. “I think she deserves to be comfortable here. Do you want her to starve?”

Joel’s sure he’s staring at you slack-jawed. Not because he’s upset with you, no. It’s quite the opposite. He shakes his head, grins, and starts laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” but you’re giggling, too. “It’s not funny.” You reach to swat at him playfully, and something inside him snaps. 

Joel is sick of coming up with excuses to see you. He’s sick of holding you at arms length. He’s sick of not taking what he wants to. He’s sick of pretending he hasn’t thought about you every single day since he first saw you, standing in this very kitchen, leaning over the island and chatting with Sarah. He wants to walk in your front door and know that he can have you however he likes, that he’s allowed to. He realizes if he doesn’t act, he’ll never find out. It’ll eat him alive.

So before you can make contact, he wraps his hand around your wrist, draws you in closer. It catches you off guard, sure, but your eyes are locked, and he sees that you’re not shaken in the slightest.

“You know,” he says. “You’re nicer than you think.” 

The energy in the room has shifted. But it doesn’t seem to phase you, and when he’s this close, he can study every freckle on your face, the color of your eyes – can remind himself, again, though he hardly has to – just how beautiful you are. You lower your arm, and at first – he panics, thinks that you might be pulling away. He’s read it wrong, all wrong. But all your doing is giving yourself a better angle to grip his wrist in kind, hand clasping over his broken watch.

“Keep it to yourself, Joel.” you whisper. And it's supposed to be a joke, but you can't seem to tear your gaze off his lips. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I will.” 

Joel kisses you. Hard. It’s like a dam breaking, every time he’s held himself back from you comes barreling forward, and it’s all right there. Everywhere. Overwhelming. But he can't stop. He moves with purpose, cupping your chin. He winds his other arm around your waist, crushing you against him. You taste sweeter than he’d imagined, cherry-flavored syrup lingering on your lips. You groan against him, your head tilting back as he moves in closer, jaw relaxing, lips parting.

It’s just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, to continue to explore, to claim. The things he’s going to do to you…It could be the weed, but every nerve in his body is on high alert – his skin scorches in the wake of your hands raking up his biceps, tangling in his unruly waves. It could be the weed, or it could just be that good.

More, he wants more, and he’s crowding you back towards the counter next to the fridge. Somewhere, distantly, he hears the freezer door fall closed – and probably not all the way – the ice cream long since forgotten. The moment your back hits the granite, you pull away with a ragged inhale, only enough to look him in the eyes.

“Took you long enough,” One of your hands rises to his face.

Joel presses his cheek into the warmth of your palm. “I thought it might be better to keep you waiting.”

You only shake your head, pulling him back into the kiss. He shifts his weight to hook his hands behind your knees and lift you onto the counter. It’s a bit overzealous, and your head bumps the cabinet behind you, but you don’t seem to notice. Both your legs hook around his hips, drawing him in further. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on just from kissing someone – not even for that long – but it’s just so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot. 

But, he’s capable of one rational thought. This can’t be how it happens. You’re worth more than an animalistic fuck on a kitchen countertop. There’s so much more he wants to do that can’t be done here, like this. And…it’s you. You deserve better, although the frustrated noise you let out when he draws back indicates you think the opposite. Another time.

“I’m sor-I-we can’t,” Joel manages. 

Your face drops, you look….almost angry at him. The second he sees it, he realizes what he said was all wrong. “No, I mean we can, we can, just not….not now.”

The anger dissipates, you shift back, but reach out, pushing a piece of stray hair off his forehead and running your thumb along his sharp jawline. “Why not?”

“I just…I didn’t-” he shakes his head and looks down. “I’ve wanted this for awhile now, but….this isn’t…I wasn’t expecting-” Fucking spit it out, you dipshit. “Can I take you out or something first?” 

You don’t answer, just shift forward, your forehead bumping into his chest. Joel he brings his arms around your shoulders despite himself. And then your lips are on his neck, teeth scraping, teasing, working up to his ear, where you whisper. “You don’t have to.”

He fucking has you. He could. So easily. “I want to.”

You pull back, and there’s a split second where he swears you look a little ashamed, and then it vanishes. “You are a romantic.”

“Not entirely…” Joel says. “I just…would rather do things right. For someone I like.”

“Someone you like?”

“Yes.” Obviously. 

“Okay, yeah,” you murmur softly. “I would like that.” 

“Next weekend?” 

“That long?” 

He chuckles. “It’ll be worth the wait.” But you don’t seem convinced. “I promise.”

For a split second his eyes flick over your shoulder to the microwave, and he sees what time it is. “Shit. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s late. Sarah’s gonna be home any minute and if I’m not home-” he pauses, gestures between you. “We shouldn’t uh…we shouldn’t mention this to her. Not for now, at least.” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it,” you shake your head in agreement. 

Joel leans in to kiss you again. This time, he keeps it slow, tender, lingering. Even though he knows he’ll get to see you again, he still finds it hard to tear himself away.

----

part v

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[wyn-n-tonic]

That's a Real Fucking Legacy: I Chose You

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/former Tommy Miller x f!reader Word Count: 2.6k+ Warnings: Unprotected PiV. Soft Joel. Talk of death. The gif is JUST a gif, there are NO descriptions of reader, it's just a visual reference of movement. Author's Note: Thanks for all the patience with this installment. I have been working very hard on DoYaM and fit in bits and bobs of other things where I can. Cannot fully convey how grateful I am for all the kind words, I really hope you like this, too.

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That's A Real Fucking Legacy Masterlist

Everybody said it was an accident, that it could’ve happened to anybody.

But it didn’t happen to anybody, it happened to him.

Stopped for a pick up at a site out in Colorado, Joel left you and the baby to finally contribute and pull his weight—to feel useful. He’s been itching for it this whole time, getting out there and working off the energy that’s penning up inside his chest. He said he wanted to partake in something other than just keeping your daughter at peace.

You didn’t tell him he’d be taking yours away, too. 

They were ambushed by another group, a bunch of men looking for food to take back to their women and children apparently. It was a fucking gun fight and if the blood on his shirt was just from a bullet, maybe this wouldn’t feel like having all the air sucked from your lungs.

Baby could sense it, too, the fear and devastation seeping through your body as they brought him back with another goddamn hole in his body.

He’s got plenty at this point, angry red and deathly white scars pockmarking his body like some kind of topographical map. 

That’s all it is, just another scar to add to his collection and reminisce about as you trace it in the darkness of whatever shared space you end up in.

Except, they’re saying this one might not scar.

It might not even heal.

All the things he’s done throughout these years, all the things he done to protect you—to provide for you.

That’s all he was doing this time, too, and it breaks you down all over again as you pull Baby closer to your aching, carved out chest.

Everybody you have ever loved has either left or been taken away.

Tommy’s hand lands gently on your shoulder but it might as well have been a goddamn hit with the way you pull away from him.

“What do you want?”

“I brought some food,” he whispers, setting down a small plate between where you’re sitting and where Joel’s body is laying. “And I came to check on you, see if there’s anything I could do for you.”

He pulls away when you look up at him, hands falling to his side like he’s been fucking burned. You know what you must look like—bloodshot eyes and hollow cheeks.

“Yeah, Tommy, you can fucking fix this.”

You watch as he swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his eyes flicker from yours to his brother’s body and back. Not a day has gone by since he was brought back that you’ve left his side, doing your best to keep it together through every aching mile along the way to Jackson.

They look for medicine at every stop you make, coming up empty handed time and time again. If we don’t get to Jackson soon—to the doctor they have there—then he will die.

“I'm doing the best I can, sweetheart.”

“Don't you fucking dare call me that,” you tell him. Baby fusses in your arms like she can feel the hurt that’s heavy in your voice. “You were supposed to protect him, Tommy, you were supposed to bring him back to me alive.”

“He is alive,” he says, nostrils flaring as he points down at his brother. “He's right there, he’s breathing, and we are all doing the best that we can.”

Baby looks up at you, stung by the subtle anger that Tommy’s words hold. Her father may be trying to make nice with him, but you fucking won’t—you can’t. Not so long as he lays half clung to life next to you.

More words come at you—assurances and platitudes.

We’ll be in Jackson in two days.

They’re still looking.

He’s a stubborn piece of shit, he’ll make it through.

This is everything that he’s been afraid of this whole goddamn time. This is that fear come true that he’ll leave you or you’ll leave him or your daughter will leave you both and neither of you would survive that.

“Tommy,” you call his attention back on you as he turns. “I grieved for you,” you say. “God, I mourned and I wailed and I wept for days if not weeks or more.”

It’s like he’s understanding for the first time, truthfully understanding, as he stares down at your worn down body speaking all these fragile and broken words. Realization of just how much you hurt for him is dawning on him and he’s trying to give you more comfort, more words to say everybody will be okay.

But it won’t be true so long as your daughter is looking up at you with eyes that ask why your heart has stopped beating.

“I don't think you have heard me at any point that I have explained just what I feel for my family, Tommy,” you say. “I told you that I would’ve bled for you but that I would die for him so I really need for you to listen to me right now—if he goes, part of me will go with him.”

Jackson is like life before it stopped.

There is power here and children laughing.

There are babies and clothes and running water.

There are houses and furniture and trinkets and shops.

You haven’t been able to take any of this in, not really. Not when you’re walking around the halls of Tommy’s home like a ghost.

Tommy found penicillin after that night, came hauling ass into the room and injected his brother before you were even fully awake and registering what he was doing. Because, for a moment, you thought you were under attack. You though a runner had burst in and you couldn’t find the gun and this was the death you had feared beyond the walls—first Joel and then Thomi and then you. The last of those you love taken from you in the last moments that would make you welcome being ripped apart with open arms.

When you realized it was just Tommy, your heart half settled down and then you feared that maybe Joel had stopped breathing next to you. But that couldn’t have been the case because it was the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he fought against infection and the increasing cold that gave you any sort of hope or peace at all.

Joel woke up just as you made it through the gates of Jackson, one eye half cracked and already crying the moment he saw you next to him. Instead of going to the doctor, the doctor came to him. Modern medicine isn’t so modern anymore though, not the way it was when it all fell down. The penicillin likely wasn’t as potent as it once was but the doctor said it would do the trick and that the right thing was done by keeping his wound as clean as possible and bandaged tight.

Tommy said it was all you and the doctor was offering you a job before he’d even learned your name. You’ll get to that eventually, you told him so. Begged him to let you settle in and find a home, find a way to feel okay in this new space where you’re told fear doesn’t have to be your primary emotion any longer.

Now, though, Joel barely wants to sleep. He’s antsy, fidgeting and restless and begging to get out of bed and walk around.

He’s even bouncing Baby and talking with his brother on what jobs he can pull around town to earn his keep.

Fucking jobs.

You almost lost him to him pulling his own weight and he’s asking about fucking jobs with a half healed hole still gaping in his abdomen. 

Thomi’s been down for about an hour, she was your excuse away from the bathroom. With Joel up and about, the survival mode has turned off in your brain and now you want to crumble every time you look at the knotted over flesh.

But there’s only so much pacing that you can do until you’re sitting back in the room and staring down at Thomi with tears in your eyes. She came so close to being just another orphan in this fucked up world because you weren’t joking with Tommy when you said what you said. Part of you will go when Joel does, you will not be the same and you’ve prepared for it, you just hope she’s old enough to understand when that time comes.

There’s also the hope that everybody understands that it’s Joel who has to go first. Between you and him, he has to go first because he cannot watch another person he loves die; he cannot add another name to another gravestone in the cemetery of his heart.

That’s where he finds you, saying something about how he can’t believe there’s an actual crib that she actually gets to sleep in.

That fact and the exhaustion of his voice hits you, drags the tears out of you finally after all these days of having to be strong. She has a crib and she’s sleeping peacefully inside of it with a soft toy somebody in town sent over. Joel has a voice and he’s using it as if just a week ago you hadn’t convinced yourself that you’d never hear it again.

“How can I fix this?” He asks, gentle hand resting on your shoulder. “What can I do for you?”

“You're breathing,” you say, pushing the tears from your face. “That's enough, it’s all I’ve been hoping for.” Because while you want him to be the first to go, you can’t lose him yet. Not yet.

He smells good. Like himself but different, the sweet scent of the mint soap Tommy gave you mixing in with the natural musk and heat of him. You don’t even realize you’re crawling into his lap until you are.

Tears fall down on his face as your fingers thread through the slicked back hair until you’re cradling his head in your hand; holding him to you with open mouths breathing heavily into one another. 

He’s hard already and laying back with ease, thick hands gripping into the meat of your hips. It’s fucking embarrassing how close you are already but there was no privacy for sneaky touches on the journey here. 

“Off,” he commands, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

Trailing his hand along the skin exposed as you comply easily to his demand, he fights against the pain you know he feels to pull himself forward enough to reach you and pull you back down. 

Days asleep fighting, literally, for his life and, yet, he’s still got all this strength radiating out of his body. You know that’s why he was able to hold on for so long but it doesn't mean it doesn’t wow you and bring another wave of sadness all at the same time.

Because if such a strong man can fall so easily, what’s stopping this world from taking you, too?

Like he can read your mind, his hands settle on your hips and he pulls back just enough to look up at you with the same big brown eyes your daughter shares. “Are you gonna get off of me if I tell you this moment was the focal point of all my fever dreams?”

Head cradled in both of your hands, you take his lips again. “I might never get off of you again, Joel Miller.”

Fighting against the pain he feels, he pushes his hips against your core as he pulls you down against him, whispered words of gratitude and love falling pushed right into your mouth from his.

“I heard every word you said,” he breathes out. “The entire time you were by my side, sweetheart, I heard it all.” 

Tongues flattened against each other, you reach down and pull off the new underwear—another offering in a gift basket to welcome your family to the town. You never thought you’d see these kinds of things again. 

Clothes in good condition; sturdy houses; friendly people; fresh vegetables.

It’s something else that drips tears from your eyes and down his cheeks.

As if he knows how overwhelmed you are by all the newness going on all around you, he takes charge to push up against your lips harder and with more hunger.

Joel’s goal in every moment between your bodies is to be the only overwhelming force you feel and he does just that with the gentle push of his solid length through your soaked channel. 

He takes the gasp you feed him, pulling back with a smile to trail the tip of his nose down the length of yours and studies you as he waits for your fully seated comfort to kick in.

“Mmm,” his head falls back and he relaxes down into the soft blankets. “I’m sorry if I bust too quick,” he breathes out. “It’s been a while and I missed you.” 

Laughter. Because that’s a feeling coiling deeper in the pit of your being than he’s pushing into and he catches your moan as brings the long awaited friction you’ve ached for. 

“I think I’m right there with you,” you whisper against him. This shared laughter and the feeling of his chapped lips on yours are the unburdening you’ve needed for so long. Even in the so called safety of the QZ, your shoulders were heavy with the weight of grief and fear both for those that were and those that will be taken away.

This is light and restful and full of peace and happiness because he turned it all around—he came back.

He heard every word you said at his side.

“None of these,” he says against your lips, swiping at the heavy salt water tears that streak down your cheeks. “Not anymore, sweetheart, not right now. You don’t need them right now.” 

Your bodies are already tightening up against each other; working in time with each other all slow and steady movements made with intention and pulling back when necessary.

Because the intention isn’t to get off, it’s to be together and share this peace and relief together.

“I love you,” falls from his lips like a prayer, something sacred and quiet that he keeps close to his chest.

Even still, he may have said no more tears but they rush from you in body racking sobs. Because you know, of course you know, but he’s never said it. Not out loud, not like this. This isn't just a mere glimpse of a long gone, past life Joel Miller and who he used to be. This is him. That sweet and romantic boy he’s only told you about in the cover of night.

He doesn’t ask if he’s hurt you, he knows that he hasn’t. All he can do is cage you in closer; kiss you harder; hold you tighter until the broken sobs are turning back into shared moans as your involuntary movements of sadness and happiness combine to push you both over that edge.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he exhales. “My strong, beautiful woman.” Those rough hands frame your face, thumbs swiping over the swell of your cheeks in mirrored movements. “You can relax now, baby, I’m right here.”

Every press of his lips against your face is so soft and full of everything else he’s struggling to say.

That you’re safe.

That you’re healthy.

That your daughter is both and can sleep peacefully not yet knowing what nightmares truly are.

He heard every word you said at his side and these are his answers—his reassurances. He’s here, he’s right here and he’ll fight like hell even against himself to make sure he’ll continue to be.

[sunnyseungup]

Hyunjin fic recs 2

stray kids | Hwang Hyunjin

masterlist | part 1

[ updated 240228 ]

5:15 am { f } @dreamyyeosang

cliche meetcutes { f } 0,9k @chvrrycola

04 sharing haring a bed series { f2l, s } @skzdarlings

Ice { mafia au, strangers2l; a, s, f } 4,5k @healinghyunjin

Sheer good looks aside though…you’d seen his face on the news. What was his name? You remembered that it was something elegant, soft on the lips - a name that didn’t seem to fit the cruel, hardened mafioso it belonged to. 

It was only when those cold icy eyes locked with yours, gaze chilling even from all the way across the bar, that it finally came to mind. 

Hwang Hyunjin. 

kinktober day five { f2l; s } 2,5k @gimmeurtmi

uni student hyunjin but make it art

9:02 A.M { f } @forlix

Read between the lines { f } 0,5k @inkelea

Making out in a car { s } @astraystayyh

are you bored yet? { insecure y/n; a, f } @ebbaskz

“but i can’t help from asking ‘are you bored yet?’ ”

I’ll make those insecurities disappear { a, f, s } @lotus-dly

Taste { s } @moonjxsung

Sunday’s Paradigm { f2l, college; f } 2,6k @sunboki

He was a cold person. Spiteful and brash to all people too close, scared to let his walls down. Except, to him, you’re a spectacle. A classmate he realizes he can’t exactly find reason to dislike while he sketched you from his stool in the art room.

The deal. @hyunedew

the one where you accidentally summon the king of hell in your pursuit to pass your class.

Pendulum { f, a, s } 1,2k @1-800-shedevil

You visit Hyunjin on the night of his big art exhibit intent on closing this chapter of your life but he's not willing to let go that easily.

Say yes to me { f } @astraystayyh

after your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.

Bound to You { Cerberus, Goddess, Greek Mythology; f, s } 4,3k @winter-dayz

“What are we?” { f } @jinhyun

Drunken with a sense of love { drunken confessions, fake dating } 7,1k @hanibalistic

you and hyunjin got drunk at different times, and you two took care of each other similarly. 

Thinking about how attentive hyunjin would be when you’re sick { f } @seungminhour

Christmas Eve with Hwang Hyunjin { f } @agi-ppangx

Eight days of Christmas carols - day 4 { f } @rachalixie

Pussy agenda with Hyunjin { s } @fluffylino

Sigma kappa zeta’s olympic level beer pong team { + Innie x reader; s } 7,2k @/skzms

it's the last frat party before winter break and you, hyunjin and jeongin have a title to defend. who knows where it might lead (we do, it leads to the three of you smoking weed and fucking in jeongin's room)

9mitm { s } @straykeedz

Babysitter.com { single dad Hyune; s, f } @mnwrld

hyunjin's whole life changed when his daughter was born--it was the single best day of his life. but parenting was harder than he thought it would be, especially when he also needed to work to be able to provide for the light of his life. maybe a little help wouldn't hurt? where else could he look but the notorious 'babysitter.com' ?

Series

devil by the window { DemonxAngel; s } 3k @berryjoong

you’re an angel, hyunjin’s a demon, and you’re both after the same soul. you hate each other, but you just can’t stay away from him.

part two { f, a ,s } 6,4k

the strange man of monterrey manor ( series ) { vampire au; f, s, a }  @quokkacore

chapter one: a marriage most foul

chapter two: voices that wail in the night

chapter three: a solution to the issue at hand (m) [final]

Make Love, Not Porn { s } @charmercharm3r

You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

Play Time 3,8k

Heat Signature 5,9k

Puppeteer 4,3k

Hi, My Name Is 7,7k

Sunday 6,7k

Texts

Boyfriend texts @like-a-diamondinthesky

Boyfriend texts @gyuworm

Note: please let me know if the links are not working ! I’ll try to fix them as soon as possible ^^

[buckyb-stan]

✨Bucky fic recommendations ✨

Last update: July 12th, 2023

Hi! I’m Jimena and I love reading fanfics. I usually just like them and eventually I end up losing some fics I really liked. So I decided to create this type of masterlist for me to organize and revisit fics I really really enjoy.

So please take this as some recommendations of fics you should read! In my opinion these authors deserve so much recognition for their incredible works 💖

Also if you have any recommendations please let me know, I would love to read them.

——————————————————————————

SERIES

I’m with you (Mini series) - @wkemeup

summary: When two strangers meet on a layover in the Charlotte Airport, they are sent on a whirlwind weekend filled with cancelled flights, painful questions over giant checkers, an ex-boyfriend’s wedding, and a confrontational graduation. They find that a lifetime can sit in the span of three days and it doesn’t take very long at all to fall in love.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, modern!au

For the Love of the Game - @pellucid-constellations

Summary: Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it. 

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader 

The Number One Rule - @justkending

Series Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor’s degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left. But don’t worry, the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other’s buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Save me (Mini Series) - @espinosaurusrexex

summary: Bucky Barnes has never had it easy, which ultimately turned him into a caveman-like introvert with no desire to see the positive side of life. But what happens when the clumsily charming art student, Y/N, stumbles to his rescue, determined to show Bucky how truly wonderful the world is?

Pairing: College!BuckyBarnes x College!reader AU

Everything's Better in Westview - @espinosaurusrexex

summary: Bucky and Y/N sneak into Westview to have the perfect life. Away from late Steve and Tony, Vision and Natasha, they let themselves be consumed by suburban magic. To their surprise, however, some of these people aren’t so dead in the town. And there are some other weird things happening that make them question their sanity. But that’s okay, right? ‘Cause everything’s better in Westview.

Pairing: BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader

Bulletproof - @amandaoftherosemire

Summary: You, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes have been the best of friends since middle school. On top of that, you’ve been in love with Bucky pretty much the whole time. Everything changed after the three of you got to college, however. Over the past couple of years you and Steve have become even closer but things between you and Bucky have been strained since the night he broke your heart. Can anything bring you back together?

Pairing: BuckyBarnes x Reader

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven // Part Eight ** // Part Nine  // Part Ten  // Part Eleven**  // Part Twelve // Part Thirteen ** // Part Fourteen  // Epilogue 

Sunrise - @wkemeup

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is discharged from active duty and sent back to civilian life. Left with a storm of unchecked guilt, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU)

Paring: bucky x reader (veteran!bucky x librarian!reader)

Winter Canvas Masterlist - @sebbytrash

Summary - AU Reader is an Art Major and needs a life model for a major assessment. The catch? It’s gotta be a stranger. Then you gotta remind yourself that it’s just an assignment…right?

Pairing: College!Bucky x reader

★ Ice ice baby ★ - @endless-summer-soldier

Summary: Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

Pairing: CollegeHockeyPlayer!Bucky x CollegeFigureSkater!Reader | Enemies to lovers

★ Method acting ★ - @kinanabinks

Summary: frat!steve and y/n are close friends, but the lines are starting to blur. if that isn't confusing enough, enter beryl; a girl who's hell-bent on making steve rogers hers, no matter what it takes.

Pairing: Frat!Steve x reader x Frat!Bucky

——————————————————————————

One shots

How’s Your Head? - @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Summary: Reader gets hurt in the subway, Bucky helps

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Suburbia - @wkemeup

summary: Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

Pairing: bucky x reader

let’s play pretend - @khimili

Summary: You’re supposed to attend your sister’s wedding, but when you learn your ex-boyfriend is coming with his newly found girlfriend, you come up with a lie. Yes, you’re in a relationship, and yes, you’ll bring someone to the wedding. Since your sister already knows about your best friend Steve, you decide to set your sights on his taciturn friend, the infamous Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes. What’s the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

She’s not mad - @subwaysurf45

Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. 

Pairing: College!Bucky x reader

Golden Life, Gutters - @castieltrash1

Summary: patience is a virtue and you show bucky barnes he’s worth waiting for

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!reader

(One part but it has 17k words)

It’s called: freefall - @kikixreverie

Summary - Things get heated between you and your closest friend Bucky, when you're made to play a married couple on an important mission. Neither of you can help yourselves when you end up stuck in a hotel room together, with sexual tension you could cut with a knife.

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Flirting and Football - @lovelybarnes

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a soccer player, most girls are interested in him but Bucky is surprised and interested in reader when reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him. College AU

Pairing: CollegeAthlete!Bucky x reader

The right partner - @bucky-bucket-barnes

Summary: You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader Enemies to lovers

★ When the Morning Comes ★ - @pellucid-constellations

Summary: An entire childhood, an entire life, and Bucky just hopes you’ll be there when the morning comes—that you’ll get tired of this town and follow him. If not, he’ll try again next summer. And the summer after that.

Pairing: Modern!Bucky x reader

——————————————————————————

Two parts

Like I Want You - @tmpestuous

summary: you and bucky have been best friends your entire life and it’s never been anything but platonic. so why do things get so bad when he gets a new girlfriend?

Pairing: college!bucky x reader

——————————————————————————

I’ll keep updating it as I read more fics (new ones will be marked with ★ )

[sakuraryomen01]

Valentino.. /Sukuna Ryomen x Female Reader/ .o2

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother,

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 1.413k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 (will be updated..)

a/n:: dear lord, i didn't know a new fanfic would have this kind of attention so soon! i love it, but it's really unexpected ^^ anyways, here's chapter two, and i hope i can keep the pacing of chapters the same~

~~

Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy~

. . .

Should I?

It had felt like a few hours by now since you had first seen Sukuna at your class, when in fact, it's been days. You had been too scared to actually try and talk to him, to see if you could make things right.

What would he say? How would he act?

You didn't know, it was just a matter of time till you worked up the guts to speak to him. Constantly glancing over at his spot where he sat, simply trying to gain a glance from him.

He knew you were here, so why didn't he come say hello to you himself?

"That's all for today, class," Toji announced, running a hand through his hair and making a few students gush in the background. "You may leave a little ahead of time so have some fun before going to your next classes. Be sure to do your homework this evening too, it's twenty-five percent of your grade."

As the commotion of students standing and gathering their things buzzed around the room, your eyes fell onto the back of Sukuna's head again. He was currently packing his things in his bag as yet another suitor waddled over and began talking to him.

He seemed uninterested in the girl's tactics, as he simply stared and shook his head when they asked for a date and number. Sukuna didn't say anything as he put on his jacket and bag and then left.

This would be your only chance, you told yourself as you quickly grabbed your things and tossing your bag over your shoulder.

Rushing out of the room, you headed into the direction Sukuna left and stood confused in the middle of the hall, students and other teachers walking past you as you looked around. Sukuna had simply disappeared into thin air.

Damn, you sighed, fixing your bag up and heading towards your next class. Maybe next time.

. . .

One whole month. Still hadn't talked to Sukuna.

"You mean that little punk-ass kid you liked when you were little?" Getou asked, his weekly visit to your roomies being interrupted by your ranting.

"He wasn't a punk," You said, your cheeks flushed pink. "And it was just a little crush, get over it."

"That's my line."

Getou took a sip from his soda can, clicking to another channel on the T.V. as he waited for your roommate. "Shouldn't you just say hi?"

"I can't," You let out a groan, laying down on the couch next to Getou. "I'm nervous. I haven't seen him in over a decade.. it's insane he's here anyway!"

Getou gave a low chuckle to your little rants, listening calmly until your roommate called on him for her sexual needs. Sighing, Getou crushed his empty drink and stood, petting your head as he walked away.

"Hey, just go talk to him," He said as he tossed his can away, already undressing his torso and undoing his hair pin. "He probably misses you as much as you miss him.. or whatever cheesy romance movie you think you're in."

"I don't think I'm in a cheesy romance movie, asshole," You grunted, turning on your side and pulling up the couches decorative blanket.

Getou soon disappearing into your roomie's room and the sounds of a creaking bed soon echoing throughout the dorm rang loud as you grab the paper with Sukuna's dorm number on it. You quickly grabbed a few other things like your phone and a necktie and exited the, now noisy, dorm.

Quickly tying the tie to the doorknob, you looked up directions for your campus on your phone as you went down the dormitory hall. There wasn't much noise this week, most of your neighbors had practice or were nursing hangovers from their previous party the night before. It was a Friday. Normal behavior for them.

Not you though.

You weren't the average party goer, but you have been to a few with Gojo and Getou, and didn't really enjoy your time shared on scene. Most girls were hooking up with the closest thing they could grab, Gojo being one of the obvious targets and leaving the party with at least two women strapped to each arm.

You understood his charm, though it never worked for you.

"Why don't you just let me?" Gojo would often ask the moment he was drunk enough, his lips a pretty pink as usual with some type of alcoholic beverage tainting his normally minty breath.

"Bet I'd make that pussy cream so hard too~.."

And around then he'd earn a one-way ticket to getting his ass kicked. You were always reminded of how much of a man whore Gojo was during the weekends and breaks for school. Playing with more than one persons heart and ending up with another phone number under his belt.

Though, in your mind, Sukuna's behavior seemed different from Gojo's.

He was quiet and rather harsh to any girls that had wanted to "date" him during his younger years. If you'd even consider dating at such a young age.

Anyways, you had finally made your way into the men's dormitory. A weird smell hitting your nostrils that you assumed was a 'man's smell', though you choose to ignore it as you make your way to the second floor and try to find Sukuna's dorm. It wasn't long until you were stopped by some drunken boys that made you sigh and explain your situation. Though, it fell on deaf ears and you pushed past them to the next floor.

Third floor: No luck.

Fourth: No luck.

You were about to give up when you saw the long awaited number of Sukuna's dorm. With a relieved and nervous sigh, you gave yourself a proud smile and slowly walked up to the door. You didn't hear anything from inside, but you knocked all the more and waited patiently.

After a few agonizing minutes, the door clicked open and you saw a messy haired and sleepy Sukuna. His eyes were dazed and droopy, some indents of the bed sheets he was probably sleeping on imprinted on his face and arms. His shirt was messy and his sweats were not really much different except for their grey color.

It had been so long since you saw him, and it was strange to see such a difference in him.

He didn't have any bandages on him that'd signify that he was just in a fight, minus a band-aid that was on his finger. Sukuna also appeared more mature, and grown. Nothing like the boy that you left behind in the Sticks.

"Ah- H-Hello, Sukuna.." You mumbled to yourself, unable to take in the cute sight of Sukuna being tired. Maybe he just woke up?

"Hmmph.." He responded, rubbing his eye and trying to take in who you were. What was your name again?

"Wait.. Y/n?"

Sukuna's voice let out a croak, coughing as his eyes began to focus on you. There was little hesitation before you smiled even brighter and blushed a little, waiting for a hug from him, even if it was brief.

But what you expected wasn't what you got.

"What are you doing here?" Sukuna asked, his eyes narrowing and his posture changing. He went from tired and leaning against his door frame to arms folded and full attention on you.

It wasn't in a friendly manner either.

"I-I was asked by our Economics professor to come see you!" You stuttered out, feeling a small pit of sadness well inside you at what little recognition he had towards you.

Didn't he miss you? Not even a little bit?

"Well, you can go now," Sukuna huffed, his eyes more red than when he was little. "I'm doing fine."

Such harsh words. Not even a hello?

"Wait, don't you miss me?" You asked, your voice strained, that childish flutter in your heart. "It's been so long, don't you want to get to know each other again?"

"Not really."

Why were you so persistent? It was strange, you've never wanted to see someone this badly. And it had been years since you've even had a thought about Sukuna.

Were you coming down with something?

"Is that all?" Sukuna asked, his voice weak and tired, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes once again. "I want to get some sleep before classes."

"Um.. y-yeah," You mumbled, your heart aching as Sukuna closed to door on your face and left you confused.

Why didn't he miss you?

a/n: already so much attention?! i love it but wow, i was expecting it after a few days not this fast! anyways, idk when i'll be posting the next chapter but i thought i'd tag a few extra ppl that i thought would want to read this fanfiction, but if you wish to not be tagged, tell me. i don't want anyone uncomfortable ^^ i cannot believe it took so long to make this chapter! i'm sorry, i've been working on my Kinktober things! (i plan on posting ten drabbles for the last 10 days of kinktober so i hope i get those out soon>&lt;)

Chapter Song Theme: — bei maejor - lights down low // slowed + reverb

taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd, @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalfleshlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleeboomed, @fallenfeversstuff, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @ririkaxbz, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir

last chapter || next chapter

[cosmicstarlatte]

Belphie A-Z Smut HCs (Obey Me)

⬅Back to Smut HC A-Z Masterlist ◇

18+ only, minors do not interact.

My personal headcanons using this [prompt list]

The goal is to finish the whole list; you are welcome to request a letter so I get to it faster. I will work on it as quick as I can but keep in mind I do have a life & responsibilities lol. ^^

Last Updated: Oct.1.2023 (3 out of 26)

⚠️Notes: I'll tag any sections if needed. If you think a section needs a tag, kindly let me know.

A: Affair (Describe an extra-marital affair)

B: Birthday (Describe birthday sex)

C: Compliments (Mid- and post-sex compliments)

D: Dry Humping (Describe a dry-humping scene)

E: Experimenting (Trying something new)

F: Firsts (First time having sex together)

G: Gentle (Describe gentle/loving mid-sex gestures)

H: Handsy (When they can’t keep their hands to themselves)

I: Initiator (Who initiates most of the time? How?)

J: Jealous (“Claiming” a partner)

K: Kitchen (Describe a sex scene in the kitchen)

L: Likes (What they like in the bedroom)

M: Morning (Describe morning sex)

N: Never (Things they would never try)

O: Orgasm (Describe coming--who comes first? What do they say? How does the other person know it’s approaching?)

He usually holds out & lets you cum first, he knows after the first round & any possible rounds after, his energy is just gonna get drained more & more. He's usually pretty verbal about when he's cumming. "I'm gonna fill that pretty little hole up, get ready." He's obsessed with watching you take his cum & loves to see it drip out.

P: Playlist (A playlist for getting down and dirty; will probably include a lap dance song, a song for making love, and a song that represents their sex life)

Q: Quiet (Reaction to a quiet partner)

R: Ruttish (Signs that they’re horny)

tags: Dubcon-ish, Pervy!Belphie He'll come onto you heavy. He'll let you know. Sometimes he'll grab your hand & place it on his hardened cock & ask if you wanna help take care of it. Or sometimes he'll even press his clothed cock against you, whispering dirty fantasies. You haven't said no so he carries on doing whatever he wants. Don't fix what isn't broken. (:

S: Safe Word (How often is the safe word used? Why?)

tags: choking, trauma For him? He's used it twice. He felt uncomfortable with him choking you for...obvious reasons. By the 3rd time of trying on a seperate occasion though, he felt comfortable & finally saw the appeal. It's always light choke play though. He knows he can use the safe word whenever he needs to though! For you, you've used it once when it felt painful at one point. Just a mishap, it happens!

T: Teasing (Who’s the tease in the relationship? What do they do? How often?)

U: Undressing (Strip teasing a partner)

V: Videos (Sending NSFW videos to each other)

W: Wedding Night (Consummating the marriage)

X: XXX (What kind of porn does the person watch? How often?)

Y: Yawn (How they sleep post-sex)

Z: Zoo (Their animalistic qualities in the bedroom)

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

A Fic Recommendation Extravaganza

as promised, (or more like voted) I'm going to share some of my favorite fics and authors in this post.

I joined Tumblr in 2012, but only started posting my writing in 2018, never thinking people would actually read it. Now here we are, 5 years 6K people later and I couldn't be more thankful!

These will be heavily Pedro centred (what a surprise lol), but there's some other people who I have been following for years before too.

Let's go!

@radiowallet whole Masterlist but especially her Oberyn series. I love to hate to love stubborn soulmates who get heir happily ever after. And I can not wait to hold PWC in my hands.

@something-tofightfor currently very in love with undercover future king of Mandalore Din Djarin falling in love in a christmas town. But honestly check out the whole masterlist. So many good stories, and I haven't even read everything yet

@wheresarizona Arizona makes me yearn for fictional Javier Peña in Learning to live like no other. Not only is this the fluffiest love story ever, no it's fucking filthy

@jazzelsaur Frankie and Ellie will have my heart FOREVER and ever ever.

@tilltheendwilliwrite was probably one of the first authors I followed on here. Her Blessings of Magic series is one of my most favourite stories ever and it still keeps growing.

@lavendertales oh where to start? Frankie Angst? Or Enemys to lovers with Javi P? Honestly, the whole Masterlist ist just chefs kiss.

@whiskeynwriting Dave fucking York and his daughters best friend. If I could drop real life whenever an update is posted I would (okay I mostly do)

@oonajaeadira PATS my beloved. I'm in love how you build this tiny universe with a character we haven't even seen just listened to.

@absurdthirst ooookay. I don't know what's my favorite. Just like... everything. And Werewolf Pero.

@wardenparker every single Soulmate series had me in a chokehold. Just... read it all here.

@chaoticgeminate Don't make me decide between Dragon Pero and sub Dave. Or Javi and Solecita. Or...

@whatsnewalycat you don't know that, but I read your Javi series almost completely when I was on vacation last year without knowing that you were on Tumblr too. I literally stopped breathing during the last chapters. And now I am loving to hate Frankie in Designated Person.

@guess-my-next-obsession Dr. Javier Peña my beloved.

@fuckyeahdindjarin If Palomino was a person, I would be on my knees. Cowboy Jack is like.. the perfect man and it's kinda rude of him but I love him.

@whataperfectwasteoftime is where I go to to get my Marcus Pike fix. And I can not wait to read your book either!!

@keanureevesisbae the mental picture of John Wick hanging up those paintings in one cappuccino and a chocolate brownie please has been burned into my brain. The amount of fluff you are able to put into words is unbeatable and I love it.

@supernaturalgirl20 whole Masterlist is to die for. The one story that stayed with my was Ezra in Bookshop by the coast. I think I read that three times.

@psychedelic-ink The amount of Joel fics that seem to show up daily from you have me in awe. Masterlist here.

@coastielaceispunk I fell in love with all Max Lord fics, and stayed for the rest. Check Masterlist here

[ddostoyevskyy]

CHASING THE SUN

ALTERNATIVE TITLE; MY KIND OF WOMAN

Kunikida Doppo

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒... f!reader, demure!reader, reader has older siblings, ADA member!reader, misogynists, slightly fear of men, reader is quite similar to Louisa’s personality, soft spoken, reader is working with Yosano as an assistant doctor, smitten!Kunikida (cause, why not). And, reader and Kunikida was batchmates in college.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄... a short apology fic for those TLOA readers of mine. 😔 I haven’t been updating for so long and the chapters has been on drafts. I’m proofreading my own work, okay. 😔 Anyway, this oneshot (or two? idk) is on Kunikida’s perspective;) Also, I feel like his short fic is a mess, idk.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒... 4.246k

MASTERLIST.

Kunikida muttered under his breath about being a little too early when he arrived at the fourth floor of the building where the Armed Detective Agency’s door is located. He sighed, rethinking of opening the door in front of him when he knew he’s going to deal with a headache once he stepped inside the Agency; a headache in a form of a brunette with a burgundy coat and a suicidal maniac. Nevertheless, with only a second early on his schedule, he opens the door which always remained unlock as he steps inside, slamming the door gently on his back before he announced his entranced.

He could hear the brunette’s dreamy voice from afar as his ears twitched, his handsome face frowning as he glance to where he’s been hearing Dazai Osamu’s voice, accompanied with Nakajima Atsushi and Izumi Kyouka whose staring at him in disbelief. Once the younger two noticed him, they looked a little relief, their faces telling him the “please-deal-with-him” look.

“What’s gotten you so cranky about, Dazai?!”

“Ah, Kunikida! I just met the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in my whole life!” The brunette answered and Kunikida’s face turned more darker as he scowls before throwing a smack to the brunette’s back, causing him to yelp.

“Shut up! It’s too early for that! Did you invited her to double suicide again?!”

“I did! But, she seems petrified when I touched her hand.” Dazai replied with a sad pout and Kunikida sighed, smacking him into the head again.

“I told you not to touch any women without their consent, Dazai! It’s sexual harassment!” Kunikida retorted as he fixed his glasses to the bridge of his nose, glancing at his watch before walking towards his desk. Dazai followed behind with a malicious grin on his face. “Besides, what is a woman doing here, anyway? Another complaint or spy?”

“Now, now, Kunikida. Let’s not be judgemental, okay? I heard from the President that he’s been recruiting another Agency’s member to help Miss Yosano with medical assistance.” Dazai finally confirmed, making the blonde raise his head away from his laptop, completely having his attention caught. A medical assistance huh? Kunikida pondered; if this new member of the Agency has a medical degree, why bother to apply in a Detective Agency and not in a hospital facility?

“Is this new recruit an ability user?” Kunikida questions and Dazai hummed under his breath, playing with the paperworks around him.

“I figured, she is, since the President is making me escort her through an entrance exam.” Kunikida had slammed his laptop close with a thud, staring at Dazai in bewilderedment before pointing towards his face.

“What, you?! No way, the President is letting you off to do an entrance exam, Dazai! Let alone with a woman!”

“Calm down, Kunikida! You and I were trusted to come along in her entrance exam, okay? Besides, I think I heard (Name) requesting the President for Kyouka for a personal reason I intended not to know unless she said it herself.”

“(Name)?” Dazai nodded with his question.

“Yes, (Last Name) (Name).”

That name. (Name). Oh, my gosh. Kunikida fell silent as Dazai noticed his sudden deep in thought but he never mentioned anything anymore. (Name), he repeated your name in his mind again as he bit his lower lip when he finallt remembered where he had heard your name.

It was back when he’s in college, young and determined to pursue his passion. He was never the most brightest student out there, but he’s smart and a responsible student, while you — you weren’t really noticeable since you always have a book covering your face and you were always hanging out in the library alone. You were in the nursing department.

He was starting to noticed you that time when you were prancing around his department, finding a student with a blood A type with a syringe and gloves tucked in your hands. Your hair is a mess and it looked like you haven’t sleep for months, although what he have noticed with your attitude when he volunteered is that you can’t look at him straight in the eyes nor the way your body language has been uncomfortably speaking when you made him follow through the Nursing Department’s laboratory with the consent of his professor that time. He’s silent throughout the process as he hissed when the sterilize water had been injected on his forearm. You apologized meekly as you tried to soothe the pain with a touch of your hand that gently layed right on his arm.

That moment when he realized you were quite popular around the campus because of your beauty and brain, you were one of the dean’s listers as their scholars and the proofs of your hardwork is definitely what he’s been admiring silently. Although, there is really something off with your attitude towards him... or any male that has been pursuing you, he knew something was wrong. Although, he has became your subject and a big help for your major subject, he never questions you, nor he tried to speak with you unless you’re asking him about how he feel with those harmless chemicals that you’ve been practicing on his arms.

It became a routine for him that he started to write your name on his olive-colored pocket book he always brought with him. Your name came off with a schedule on the right side as he memorized your work patterns, how long have you been staying in the library, how many books have you been reading in one day, or have you even gotten sleep for an exact eight hours? How long since your last meal? He sounded like a stalker now, but as your practicing patient, it looks like you’ll be the one who will ended up being in a hospital instead of working for the patients.

So, he started to bring homemade lunch with him that is good for two. He saw how you were startled as your body language started to yell at him to refused. Yet, young Kunikida insisted. Since, that following days, weeks, and months, Kunikida were always prancing around with you even though, your department is a little far away from his own.

You were bright even though you’re incapable of interacting with others even with him. You kept shining on your own as Kunikida watch your brightness blinded him with such intensity that he could feel his heart palpilate when he saw how dedicated and motivated you are in your studies. You were one bright young woman that continues to shine even more. And, once you have finally considered him as a friend, Kunikida had fell more.

You were kind, patient (which you really need as a nursing student), and a caring woman. Although, he was always drown to your silence, you swept him up again when you became more talkative; and he’s always listening, he’s all ears as you talked about why you pursue medical field, or your hobbies (which is quite obvious). He had it all written on his notebook, he had it all memorized. Those days with you were the brightest and he had admired you more than he already has.

But, he knew the sun he had admired will not be always by his side.

It was that one cloudy day when he had found you on his way home, crying with your head low. He asked you, he comforted you in silence as the thunder roars above the sky; it was as if though the sun disappeared and the woman whom he’s admiring her brightness dimmed and shrink in sunset, leaving the orange and pink hues into nothing but darkness with the moon without stars illuminating the sky.

You were left broken when you told him your father is not in your approval of having a degree of nursing.

He was left baffled in silence. He can’t do anything, nor he can confess his feelings to you at a moment like that as though it would answer your problem — no. He stayed with you until you calmed down; as if the sun were rising again, the determine look on your face came back, the light lit in your eyes shone — something that made his heart flutters as you promised him with your whole heart and soul that you will graduate with him; in which he found melancholic — a melancholy smile plastered on his lips as he watched you regained your brightening light back in your heart.

He knew he wouldn’t last long in college.

Nor he had even said goodbye or his feelings for you. You have to keep going.

Kunikida sighed as he felt his heart beats faster at those memories. It’s been years that he had last seen you. There’s not even a communication after he left, but he’s glad to hear that you’re alright and now successful in life.

“Say, Kunikida. You know her, don’t you?” Dazai’s question snapped the blonde out of his thoughts and an irk appeared on his forehead again. He felt annoyed at the sound of the brunette’s teasing voice, but he calm himself down with a sigh.

“Yes, I know her. She’s a... friend back when I was in college.” He answered as he heard the brunette snickered and let out an amusing huff of breath.

“You sound hesitant there, Kunikida!”

“Shut up! She’s really just a friend, alright?! Besides, I don’t think she ever recognize me.”

“Oh, hey, there, Miss (Name)!” Dazai’s announcement made Kunikida froze on his spot as he cleared his throat. He had no strength looking back behind him as he opens his laptop again before tapping on the keyboard, relentlessly, the loud clicking sound made his nervous visible. “We were just talking about you!”

You stared at the man waving at you with horror as you look back to see if the handsome man is really greeting you with enthusiasm and it felt like a slap on the face when you remembered the way you acted when he greeted you earlier with a kiss on your forehand. It felt embarrasing that you scurried away in fast motion to the President’s office. Your cheeks heat up as you meekly wave back and the brunette grinned.

“How’s your interview?” He asked once again but your gaze caught a familiar mop of blonde haired with a low ponytail, tipping on his laptop and his silence greeted you. You can’t fathom what you’re feeling right now, many emotions swirls in your chest; longing with a mix of happiness. Although, you noticed how he seems to ignore your presence even though, you both know you really didn’t forgot each other even for years without communication.

The brunette had noticed the tension in the air as he sighed. There’s really something going on between the two of you, but since Kunikida isn’t making a move, Dazai had tutted another conversation.

“Did the President asked for an entrance exam that’s why you’re here?” Dazai asked once again as he received a non-verbal answer of yes from you. “So, you’re an ability user, huh?”

You nodded again.

“Can I entrust Miss (Name) to you, Dazai?” The President’s voice startled you for a moment as you shift to the side a bit. His silver eyes shifted to your reaction, yet he understood the moment you can’t even look at him in the eyes nor you can’t even speak straight not until he called Yosano over did it make you a little comfortable with another woman’s presence in the room. “Though, she’s very wary of any men’s presence, I hope you will never make her uncomfortable.”

Dazai smiled apologetically towards you as he scratched the back of his head. “Of course. I also apologize for my behavior earlier, Miss (Name). Do you want to come with us, Kunikida?”

Dazai’s question is like a punch on the gut as Kunikida sent a daggering glare to the brunette whose smiling adorably towards him that made him flare even more. He composed himself before shutting his laptop close, his chair creating a creak sound on the floor when he stood up, grabbing his notebook and pen as he finally faced you — or the President rather.

His deep grey eyes were momentarily glancing at your way before he averted his gaze to the President. An emotion clogged in your throat when you felt like he’s seemingly ignoring you and avoding your eyes. You started to pick on your nails, plucking on the skin of your fingers as it started to bleed a little — a bad habit you made and as a medical allied. You remembered how this man in front of you would scold you for picking or biting your nails.

But right now, he couldn’t even look at you.

“Excuse me — ah! President! I’m sorry, but I had to cut your conversation short. There’s an accident near convention street.” Atsushi butted in as he glance at you nervously, face flushed in pink when he realized you were also here.

“Miss (Name), let’s go.” Dazai were quick to grab your wrist and drag you that you couldn’t even react in time as you were left speechless. Dazai had grabbed your bag and hand it to you in a hurry as you heard Kunikida’s voice threatening to kill the brunette. You tried to keep up on his pace and you mentally screamed when he even decided to use the stairs instead of the elevator, but you were thankful you wore a sneakers instead a pair of heels you never really wear in occasion like this.

“DAZAI! SLOW DOWN, YOU BASTARD! STOP DRAGGING HER LIKE THAT!”

“THIS IS URGENT, KUNIKIDA!” Dazai answered with a hint of teasing tone and the man whose following behind groaned as he finally catch up with the both of you.

“Is the location far?”

“You’re running that fast when you don’t even know where’s the location?!”

“Please, lower your voices and I know where it is.” You butted in and the two men fell in silence when you finally spoke up. Even though, you were meek in conversations, atleast you trained yourself physically at time like this.

“Alright, then, Miss (Name)! Let’s follow your lead!” Dazai’s enthusiastic voice made you sigh before you remove his hand on your wrist, holding the hem of his sleeve’s burgundy coat instead. Now, you were the one dragging him as you ran, you were quite thankful that you wore your nurse’ uniform — an all white uniform with white slacks instead of a pencil skirt to move around freely, your hair were tied in a bun with a few loose strands shadowing your face.

You became quite comfortable with the two — although, you’ve known Kunikida for years back then, the way he seems not to recognize you made an ache strike in your heart. You remembered the location, it is near where your father works and the thought made your anxiety risen. You haven’t seen your biological father when he opposed your dream to become a medical allied, you left home after that — and the same time Kunikida left you too.

You can do this, (Name). Maybe your own father don’t even remember you anymore.

Your hands tremble as Dazai noticed the way your grip tightened on the hem of his sleeve. The brunette glances at Kunikida who looks back at him with confusion written all over his face and a slight annoyance, Dazai tilted his head to your direction and Kunikida raised a brow, a silent indication that the brunette is talking about you.

When you arrived at the site, panting and heart beating to your chest, your grip never left Dazai’s coat. Your eyes scanned the area of the incident, seeing the blood splatters on the ground — a police officer had noticed your uniform as he approached in your direction.

“Miss, are you a medical figure? Please, check the victim. I think, he’s still alive.”  You nodded at him as he gave you a latex gloves. You wear it with trembling hands as you huffed, pulling a mask from your bag as Kunikida showed his Agency’s identification before they allowed the three of you inside the incident.

You bit your lip when you saw your own father bathed with his own blood.

You activated your ability as flashes of yellow-ish light sparks in front of your eyes as you touch his wrist, checking for vital signs and his pulse that is barely even beating, his breath ragged while his mouth fell open.

“What is the victim’s situation?”

Flashes of yellows appeared again and a written information flashed in your eyes as you roam your eyes in your father’s body, examining every little details and fractures. “Few broken bones including the ankles, knees, bone marrow and the lower spine near his pelvic bone. It will definitely cause the patient in wheelchair forever. T-There’s also a lot of blood loss and a s-skull fracture.”

“You know him, don’t you, Miss (Name)?” Dazai questioned as you fell silent, unable to find words as you shakily sighed before nodding your head.

“H-He’s —”

“He’s your father...” Kunikida’s voice trailed off as he stared at you, examining your actions; the way your hands tremble and your thoughts swallowed you whole. “Dazai, we’ll take him to the Agency.”

“I don’t think so, Kunikida. It’s up to our future assistant doctor if she’ll help him.”

“What?!” Kunikida sighed exhaustedly as he put a hand in your arm. “(Name)...” When he muttered your name, your eyes widened a bit as though his deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes met his grey ones as a small smile appeared on his face.

“I...” You trailed off before squeezing his hand, “Let’s bring him in the Agency... please.”

“Don’t you think, it’s a little insensitive to force her to save that man, Kunikida?” Ranpo’s voice echoes on his ears as his eyebrow furrowed. “You were friends, right? You met her back in your college days.”

Kunikida nodded, finding no escape with his superior’s questions as he remove his glasses, washing his face with his own hands. You were now inside Yosano’s operating room and the last time he saw you, you were in a verge of breaking down. Seeing you like that brings back that memory of you crying when you told him your father will no longer financially support you to pursue your dream. It was the last time he saw you as he left without saying anything after that.

“Though, (Name) couldn’t do anything but to help the man whose the cause of her trauma with men, it’s her job as a professional,” Ranpo continued, munching on his sweetened snacks, “I hope you both talk it out, Kunikida. It seems like you never viewed her as a friend, but something... more.”

Kunikida sighed, he felt more exhausted than he already is as he closed his eyes tightly. The door opened in a swift move, revealing a tired Yosano. “I dealt with two patients today. (Name) had a sudden panic attack inside the operating room and it took me quite time to calm her down. She’s alright now, although a little drained, but you can talk to her, Kunikida.” Yosano tilted her head inside as Kunikida stood up without a word, walking towards the open door as he close the door behind.

His eyes averted to your form as you stared at the ceiling blankly, face void with little to no emotions as he take a seat on the chair besides the bed.

“Why did you left?”

Your voice is a whisper he caught on as though a silent breeze passed when a calamitous rain is ready to pour down, leaving the sun behind clouds as Kunikida lowers his gaze.

“You don’t really need to explain, I just want to know why.”

Kunikida gulped at your voice.

“College is never for me.” He shortly answered as you nod.

“What about me?” You muttered, playing with your fingers once again as you anticipated his answer. Your heart beats louder like thunders in your ears. “Am I never for you?”

“(Name)...” His voice trailed off as your eyes watered before you sit up on the bed gently.

“I’m your friend, right? That time when you left, I need someone by my side, Kunikida.” His name slipped on your lips with melancholic melody as you finally flickered your eyes to met his, admiring his handsome face you’ve adored before. He still looks dashing and more mature, broad shoulders and sharper jaw as his grey eyes never left your form.

“I know, (Name)...”

“Then, why?” Your voice cracked, you have no energy left to raise your voice, although you knew you can’t when you saw the emotion flashed in his eyes — the rain started to pour as tears pool in your eyes before it fell in one strike, the sound of your own thunders, your own cries rings in your ears. “Did you only pitied me before? Is that why you approached me?”

“What? No, (Name),” Kunikida sighed as he mentally slapped his face for almost yelling at you, “Please, don’t ever think about it like that. I left because things wasn’t easy for me back then too. It’s too complicated and I was —” Kunikida halted as his eyes slightly widened. Was he really going to confess to you at a time like this?! This wasn’t a confession he planned in his notebook to confess to the woman he love.

Fuck it. Fuck his ideals. He can’t lose you now.

“I was falling in love with you,”

Your breath hitched.

You feel breathless.

“And, I know even without me, you can shine in your own, (Name). You don’t need any men in your life, but I wished you did, you know? I want you to depend on me, I want you to cry on me, to smile with me, to achieve your dream and celebrate with me. I have it all written in my notebook; all the things I want to do together with you, but I was too late, (Name),”

Your hand clenched on the blanket draped on your lap as he reached his arm towards you, cupping your cheek as he wipes your tears away. The warmth of his hand made you shivered in delight.

“You were already shining on your own and I can’t bring myself to be the one who will hold you back down.”

“But, you didn’t, Kunikida,” You sniffle, “You became my inspiration to keep going even though you were no longer besides me.”

“It’s difficult to chase a sun so bright like you, (Name).” He muttered as he continue to wipe your tears that has been continuously dripping down your face as your eyes blurred.

“Why are you chasing me when there’s no chase to begin with?” You answered with a smile and his heart fluttered, melting in your rays of sunshine as you pull him towards you before wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face on his chest as he sighed.

“You’re so stupid. I’m glad I saw you in a  news that you worked here in the Agency.”

“Did you apply here just for me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” You slapped him in the arm when you tore yourself away from his embrace as you faced him, “I did apply here because the government doesn’t accept an ability user to work on hospitals.” You answered with an adorable pout as you fixed yourself, wiping the remaining tears in your eyes.

“Alright, alright.”

“Pardon the intrusion, lovebirds!” Dazai’s voice erupted again as he peeks through the curtains, “Miss (Name), you passed the exam!”

You stared at the brunette in confusion. “What?”

“The entrance exam is saving your father,” Kunikida sighed, “And, you did your job without hesitation although with a little malfunction there, you proved yourself that you are capable of saving others even though they did something worse to you. Which, is not even a surprise to me.”

He glanced back to you as you plastered a smile on your face, gaze softening and the calamitous rain, the clouds covering the sun disappeared, leaving another brightest sun to appear in your face. There’s no chase to begin with — because the sun he’s been chasing is already his sun in the beginning.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved 2023 © ddostoyevskyy. Do not repost without permission or plagiarized.

[brielledoesastrology]

Brielledoesastrology's masterlist 🌲

(this masterlist is still not completed yet, i am still working on it)

Gif by : @sleepingcorpsebody

About me :

My favorite singers are Lana Del Rey, lorde and taylor swift

I am a moderate asteroid user in astrology, but i respect both conservative asteroids users and liberal asteroids users in astrology too. 🙏

My hobbies : asking people their astrological big three ✨, editing ✨ and reading ✨

My fav color is black

Exchange reading game :

Exchange reading game #1

Vedic astrology observations :

Asteroids in astrology that i've researched on :

KARMA/JUSTICE asteroids in astrology - ⚖️👩‍⚖️

asteroid Jane Austen (39415) in your astrology natal chart - 📙💕✨

PRIDE BEFORE DOWNFALL asteroids in astrology - 😬✨

asteroid Makoto Shinkai (55222) in your astrology natal chart - 👨‍🎨🎨🌲🏡

asteroid Hayao Miyazaki (8883) in your astrology natal chart - Studio ghibli ✨🎨👨‍🎨

asteroid Oppenheimer (67085) in your astrology natal chart - J robert oppenheimer

asteroid Wabi-Sabi (10585) in your astrology natal chart - "beauty of imperfections"

Repeating patterns of asteroid hestia (64) or vesta (4) prominent people

Asteroid Nobel (6032) in your astrology natal chart (updated/refixed version) - 🏆🪙🧑‍🔬

Asteroid Anna Pavlova (3055) in your astrology natal chart - ballerina 🩰

Royalty Asteroids that is prominent in my astrology natal chart 🤴👑👸 - #selfappreciation

asteroid Hannibal (2152) in your astrology natal chart - 🧔

asteroid Volodia (1380) in your astrology natal chart - universal ruler 🌍👸

asteroid Kazuyuki (7293) in your astrology natal chart - calm [Soon will be refixed / corrected !!]

asteroid Sabrina (2264) in your astrology natal chart ~ having the power that your not ready for

asteroid Zlata Koruna (4408) in your astrology natal chart ~ the golden crown

asteroid Hatshepsut (2436) in your astrology natal chart ~ the greatest female pharoah

asteroid Vipera (7464) and asteroid Serpe (9968) in your astrology natal chart ~ are you a snake?

asteroid Lobachevskij (1858) in your astrology natal chart ~ did you just plagiarize my original work sir?!

asteroid Somnium (3258) in your astrology natal chart ~ Are you a dreamer?

asteroid Hestia (46) and asteroid Vesta (4) in your astrology natal chart ~ "like a virgin, touched for the very first time" - Maddona

asteroid Michiko (6499) in your astrology natal chart ~ being a fashion trend [Soon will be refixed / corrected !!]

asteroid 1999 HR11 (129772) in your astrology natal chart - "why does every time in my best moments in life always end up failing???" [Soon will be refixed / corrected !!]

asteroid Varuna (20000) in your astrology natal chart - 👑💸📸👸

asteroid Humpty-Dumpty (17627) in your astrology natal - "I CAN'T FIX IT, I AM SORRY"

asteroid Ötzi (5803) in your astrology natal chart - "STOP BEING SO CURIOUS ABOUT ME!!!"

asteroid Irma (177) in your astrology natal chart - "the whole world is watching you" 🌍

Egyptians queens asteroids to check in your astrology natal chart 👑👸

Asteroids placements in an astrology natal chart that indicate being loved and worshipped by people

asteroid Cleopatra (216) in your astrology natal chart - "you are so smart and beautiful"

asteroid Viridis (8774) in your astrology natal chart - ☘️🌲🌱 [Soon will be refixed / corrected !!]

asteroid Audrey (4238) in your astrology natal chart - 🤵‍♀️ [Soon will be refixed / corrected !!]

Kings, Queens, Princess, Prince asteroids in your astrology natal chart 🤴👸👑

asteroid Kamil (14124) in your astrology natal chart - "u are just so... perfect..."

asteroid Karma (3811) in your astrology natal chart - "karma is a cat, purring in my lap because it loves me" - Taylor Swift

Flower asteroids to check in your astrology natal chart - 🌷🌸🌹🌺🌻🌼🏵️🪷

asteroid Luda (1158) in your astrology natal chart - "everyone loves me" 💙

Placements in your astrology natal chart that indicates ........ :

Being bullied at school

Being a bully

Having a alot of haters

Some rants... :

Astrology community rants that I have to say

This.

Fame indicators in astrology :

How to check if you are going to be famous in that year using asteroids in your solar return chart

Astrology observations :

Astrology observation #1

Astrology observation #2

Astrology observation #3

Astrology observation #4

Astrology observation #5

Pop culture predictions or assumptions :

Pop culture predictions or assumptions #1

Planets and Asteroids persona chart observations and notes :

asteroid Nemesis (128) in your asteroid Industria (389) persona chart - where to find your enemies in the industry you work in????

[barnesafterglow]

killer

summary: when you meet steve, you don't expect to fall in love, let alone share with him your deepest secret

pairing: pre-serum!steve rogers x vampire!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: honestly pretty soft smut (f receiving oral, unprotected sex, come eating but it's fine), biting (obviously), slightly sub steve, mention of suicidal ideation, me fixing canon bc i can

a/n: this is more plot/feelings than it is filthy smut but i love it anyways. i have 4 other prompts i'm cycling between so i'm hoping to have a couple more done over the course of this week. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed this, every one means a lot to me! (edit to say that while it didn’t inspire the fic, i definitely get killer by phoebe bridgers vibes hence the title)

join my kinktober taglist or follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on my fics!

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

You could smell him from blocks away; you always could. It was like every cell in your body was in tune with his. It had been that way since the day you met him. 

-

It was 1943, and you were in charge of taking care of Erskine’s newest candidate. You had seen a handful come and go, all of them eventually proving to be unworthy. But something about Steve Rogers was different. It wasn’t just the pure look of determination on his face the second he stepped into basic training. You could smell the purity rolling off of him in waves. This was a man who was good and true.

Erskine took your word for it; never once in all your years together had you lied to him. Not even when he cornered you in his lab one day - after 30 years of working together - asking why you hadn’t aged a day. You were honest with him, giving the most simple answer: you were a vampire. You had been since long before borders were drawn and humans turned on each other, and you would be until someone drove a stake through your heart. He was deeply interested, asking you questions and seeking the answers to common misconceptions. You were more than happy to share with him. He was one of the very few people you were certain was good.

But Steve Rogers, he really was unlike any person you had ever met before. Sweet, kind, humble. Too humble, in your opinion. The world had beaten him down, and while he would fight tooth and nail for it regardless, he neglected himself and his own worth. You were determined to help him see himself in a new light.

The first time you kissed him, you felt butterflies in your stomach; never in all your centuries had you felt such a thing for anyone. You barely knew him and yet somehow you had known him your whole life.

The first time you fucked him, he melted in your arms. He nearly cried with the overwhelming feeling and worked himself into an asthma attack. You laid with him - the both of you still bare and chilled under the blankets of your cot - rubbing circles into his back until he was calm enough to whisper three little words in your ear. You knew then that if your heart could beat, it would beat for him.

The first time you bit him, you were terrified.

Erskine had finally talked to Steve, told him his plan, and Steve readily agreed. Just as you both knew he would.

The night before, he trembled in your arms, showing you the fear he refused to let anyone else see.

“I know I would die for my country.” He was nothing if not proud of that. “A few months ago, I would have done it without question. Now, all I can think about is you.”

Tears welled in his eyes, as they did in yours. You kissed him softly and sweetly, sitting up with him, moving closer. Just like that, with your foreheads pressed together, you told him your secret.

“I can…I can bite you. Turn you. But I don’t know what effect that will have on the serum. I don’t know what you can survive.”

“I’ll survive anything to be with you.”

You wanted to protest, wanted to tell him that you weren’t worth the possibility of the unknown. But you knew your lover, and the look in his eyes spelled nothing but love and determination. 

Who were you to deny him anything?

The two of you were still bare, bodies pressed close in the confined space, and so it wasn’t hard to tilt his head to the left, exposing the beautiful, unmarked skin of his neck.

You licked it teasingly, tasting the salt on his skin and the beating of his pulse underneath. He shivered at the touch, and you knew he was both terrified and excited for what possibilities came next.

Breathing in the sweet smell of his blood, your fangs shone in the pale moonlight, and before he could blink, your teeth sank into Steve’s neck.

You moaned low, keeping him held against you for a handful of seconds. But his own moans were a symphony to your ears. He sung like the angels above he so closely resembled, and when you finally pulled back, you realized he had come all over your thigh. When his eyes finally fluttered open, the shallow breaths deeping out, it took him only moments to apologize.

“Oh god I’m so -” You shushed him before he could get the words out, kissing him like your life depended on it. When you pulled away, a streak of blood marred the beautiful pale skin just above his lips, and you ducked your head once more to taste it.

‘“How do you feel, my love?” you asked him, keeping your hands placed on his face so he wouldn’t try to look away from you.

“I liked it.” His whisper was so low you don’t think you would have heard it if not for your enhanced senses. “I want you to do it again.”

Your brow furrowed. “You only need one bite to turn.”

“I know that, but… I want more.” He swallowed hard, struggling to meet your eyes. “I just want more.”

You nodded knowingly. The thrill of a bite could be exhilarating. Erotic. That didn’t stop you from worrying about him.

“Steve…”

“Please, just give me this.”

And who were you to deny him anything?

Staring deep into his eyes, you caved and nodded. He tilted his neck again, but you took him by surprise when you pushed him down on his back and sunk your teeth into the slight swell of his chest. 

He moaned deeply, and you could feel his hardness against you again. In a split second, you were straddling him, rubbing your folds against his length, both of your moans trying to contain themselves to the canvas of the tent around you.

You sunk down onto him slowly - despite his slight stature, Steve Rogers was not small everywhere - until your pelvis was flush against his own and his hands gripped your hips so hard you were afraid the bones might shatter.

When you leaned down to kiss him, you nipped at his bottom lip as you pulled back, drawing the smallest drops of blood.

You started to ride him slowly, rolling your hips to get you both used to the feeling - Steve had gotten better about his breathing in the handful of times you had made love, but you were always so scared after that first time that you couldn’t help but start out easy.

After only a handful of minutes, your movements started to quicken and so did your mouth, Where before you had subdued yourself to playful nips, once he sunk deep into you, you allowed yourself to release some control.

Every slide down of your walls around his cock were enunciated with a bite along Steve’s soft skin. By the time you gained the strength to thrust up into you, he was covered in double crescent moon shapes. 

When you clenched around him, close to reaching your peak, you tilted his head to the right and left a twin mark on his neck. His sweet taste pushed you over the edge, and you came with him following right behind you.

And, oh, wasn’t that fantastic. He had never finished inside of you before, always afraid of - on the slight chance he wasn’t infertile - that the two of you would try to bring a baby into a world so unknown. But with that risk gone, you were euphoric with the feel of him coating your walls.

For a few more minutes, you stayed laying on top of him, giving kitten licks to any bites that were still bleeding. When you finally rolled off of him, you expected to feel around for a rag to clean the two of you up, but Steve surprised you by gently pushing you onto your back.

Timidly, he placed tender kisses down your body before settling between your thighs. He looked up at you, eyes boring into your own, and lowered himself to your core.

His tongue swept through your folds, nipping lightly at your clit, and he moaned into you at the taste of himself. He brought both hands - large, gorgeous, artist hands - and spread your lips even more, almost ravenous with the way he swirled his tongue through your mixed releases. 

With a harsh suck of your clit, you were falling over the edge again, and he lapped up every drop of you until there was none left.

He crawled up your body again, clearly exhausted, and curled into your side. He whispered a sweet goodnight to you, and was out almost immediately.

You stayed up all night, counting his breaths and making sure his heart continued to beat.

-

The next morning, Erskine took one look at the marks that could be seen through Steve’s white t-shirt, and ordered everyone but you and Howard Stark - whom Erskine insisted could be trusted with your secret - from the room. The three of you watched as Steve stripped his shirt and stepped into the Vita-Ray Chamber. Your eyes took into the sporadic bite marks across his body, and small smile tugged at your lips despite the pure terror that coursed through your body.

You trusted Erskine’s mind, of course you did, but this was Steve and the thought of something happening to him drove you to pure rage.

Nevertheless, the Chamber closed around him, and the room went silent except for the machine at work. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Chamber opened and through the steam… someone emerged.

He had the same face as your Stevie, but other than that he was like a stranger. Tall and muscled, though he had the same smooth, freckled skin. Skin that no longer wore your marks.

It was a strike to your heart, at first, but a second glance at him spelled one thing: he was healthy.

You couldn’t smell the sickness of his youth anymore, only the scent of a strong man, young and healthy. Still, underneath it all, was the smell of purity that was his and his alone.

He stepped out and his eyes immediately sought you out. And you knew then, even if he was no longer marked by you, he would still be forever yours.

-

It had been 66 years since you smelled Steve’s sweet scent. He told he loved you one last time before he crashed into the Atlantic and took your unbeaten heart with him to the bottom.

Unable to end your own life, you dedicated every year after to hunting HYDRA. You knew his sacrifice was not the end of their reign, and you tore them down brick by brick. You hoped the end of it was when you ripped Arnim Zola limb from limb and nearly did the same to Peggy Carter for trying to work with him.

You spent the rest of your time with Howard Stark, assisting him in his experiments and even befriending his son from a young age. You helped Tony through his parents’ deaths. A freak car accident, they said - which sounded suspicious to you at first, but after several years of digging into every possible avenue, it truly had just come down to bad brakes and an unlit road. Tony thanked you profusely, his guilt nearly overcoming him at the news because of his rocky relationship with his father, and he offered you his gratitude for making sure he knew the truth.

His gratitude was the reason he called you as soon as he heard the news about Steve at SHIELD. 

Steve, your lost love. Steve, the man you thought couldn’t possibly survive almost 70 years buried in ice despite whatever mixture of venom and serum swam through his veins. Steve, who was alive and only a plane ride away.

Suddenly, you were on a sidewalk outside a brownstone in Brooklyn. The kind of place he had told you he dreamed of having on nights when he was especially homesick.

Suddenly, you could inhale and smell the scent of Steve again.

Suddenly, you were knocking on the door, afraid and thrilled of what might come next.

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @sophiejay @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde @jjbunny14 @buckysfavoritereader 

[strawberryfairi]

“I loved you then…back when I knew you”

Synopsis: 💎 When your old high school best friend, and admittedly, first love randomly shows up at your door one morning after a bit over ten years apart, your memories of him that you once locked away comes flooding back. Are you open to hearing him out after all this time? (In other words…will you take your man back or nah?)

♕Pairings: Kazutora X Black Fem Reader 🤎 (ANYONE CAN READ)🛑Content: 18+ Eventual smut, Some grief, Some angst ~Crossposted On: Wattpad ONLY ~Updating WEEKLY

w.c. 2.1k💠 Released April 5, 2024

NOTE🧚🏾‍♀️: So like lmk if you'd like to be a part of a taglist for this story to keep up with updates! That's all for this note🥰 Also omg y'all this chapter's like so short 'cause I split it from chapter 10. Next chapter will be longer I SWEAAARRRR!!!!

Previous | Next Chapter: Pending…. Chapters Masterlist

CHAPTER 11; JUST A KISS

It's been five hours since Kazutora showed up at your doorstep earlier this morning. At this point you've taken your hair out and styled it as a braid out, and completed  the rest of your usual morning routine. Since it's the weekend and you're officially staying inside all day, you kept on your pajamas. They're cute so why not, and the whole vibe is giving sleepover anyways. The two of you did nothing but talk and laugh, catching one another up on life. You learned he's been working at a pet shop with one of his old friends since he's been out of jail. He's always thought cats were cute so it made sense to you as soon as he brought the news.

When you weren't chatting, the two of you would just lie near each other on your bed in a tranquil silence until another conversation naturally sparked up, just like right now. "So..." Kazutora started, laying on his back looking up at the ceiling. "So?" You furrow your brows a bit, turning to rest your head on your palm as your elbow lifted you up to look at him. "Don't take this the wrong way but...I've kinda been assuming you must have a boyfriend or fiancée now, right? Do you two live together?"

You sighed, wincing a little at his innocent questions. "Yeaaaah...actually, I'm single now." You clarify a bit awkwardly. "Now?" He questions, rolling over on his side to face you. "Yup, now. We broke up a while ago, and we didn't really last all that long. Just a bit over a year." You huff, recalling the memories of the unnecessarily dramatic breakup. "Was he your only boyfriend?" He asks curiously. "No, I've had four since high school." You share plainly. Kazutora's heart drops to his feet. Four?! Since high school?! What did that mean?! You were with someone all the way back in high school?! It had to have been after he left!

"I guess that makes sense. You've always been...pretty." He murmurs, looking to the side in attempt to hide the disappointment behind his eyes. You really went and outlived him experience-wise. You've had so many boyfriends while he hasn't even had one single girlfriend. You're the only girl he's ever kissed and even that was just a one-time thing.

"They were trash, honestly. It seems the older I get the worse I pick. Only one was ever genuinely good to me, he just...wasn't right for me if that makes sense. We weren't even actually together, but-you know what? You don't need to be bothered by my sorry ass love life." You sigh, falling backwards onto your back. "No no, I don't mind." He shakes his head.

He actually minded a lot. He was extremely jealous of every single one of these guys even though he firstly had zero clue who they were and second you had clearly stated they weren't great guys. You roll back onto your side, eyes fixed on Kazutora's long hair. "Ehhh, it's whatever. I'm glad at least I have you again! Had I still been with my ex right now I would've never been able to do this with you." You smile softly, fingers gently running through his soft hair.

"Perfect timing I guess." He shrugs.

"I think you've always had perfect timing actually. Like the night we met and you came and beat the crap outta that college dude." You murmur, becoming fully entranced in playing with his hair at this point.

Kazutora hums in response, eyes slightly closing as he feels you play with his hair. He grabs your hand and pulls it directly on top of his head, signaling that he wanted you to massage his scalp. You let out a breathy chuckle, giving him what he wants. The corners of his lips slightly tug upwards as he lets out a satisfied sigh, leaning over and pushing you down onto your back on the bed by your chest. A noise of shock leaves your lips as you look up at him with wide eyes. Then, he lays his head down on your chest, right by your heart as he places your hand back on top of his head. Gosh, you thought he was gonna do something else. You shake your head, going back to massaging his scalp the way he likes. Something about this felt extremely different from when the two of you were younger.

"Would you really think of me all this time?" He mumbles, his tone soft yet somber. You furrow your brows at the random question. "Yeah. I already told you I'd think about you." You chuckle a little, figuring he must have wanted to just hear it again. "What would you think about me; specifically?" He asks cautiously. "Specifically? I mean, I'd think of all kinds of things. The haunted house, when you'd take me out riding on your motorcycle at night, the night we met, everything." You shrug, unable to really think of anything else.

He sighs deeply, seeming to not really like your answer, making you furrow your brows again in a mix of confusion and slight concern.

"What?" You ask.

"...Nothing." He murmurs shortly.

"Kazi..." You say in a warning tone.

"It's just...when we were at the haunted house that one night, do you remember...when we kissed?" He asks cautiously, keeping his eyes closed. Your hand involuntarily freezes in his hair, your heart doing the same as you replay his words over and over again. "Uhhh, yeah I do. It was my first kiss actually." You reply with a bashful chuckle, trying to maintain your calm tone.

"Mine too. Did you-..did you like it? When I kissed you?" He asks, lifting his head and leaning up over you to look at you. "...Mhm." You respond with a nod, feeling your face rapidly starting to heat up. You had a slight sense based off of earlier that he might have some romantic feelings somewhere in there for you but you weren't expecting him to do something like this so fast. His eyes light up like a Christmas tree at your response as he looks to the side deep in thought. "Why are you askin' me this?" You question softly, cupping his face with a hand and turning his head back towards you. Silence falls right between you two, your gesture unintentionally causing you both to become lost in each others eyes. You both knew that you knew exactly why he asked you that. It's the same reason you brought up the haunted house earlier in the first place.

Hesitantly, you start to pull him closer, forcing him to move himself further on top of you in order to follow your movements. He swallows nervously, eyes catching the way yours shift down to his lips. His face quickly shades deep pink, catching on to what you were wanting to do. His mouth opens and closes, trying to form some sort of coherent sentence.

"I-I-..I was just-I-

Your soft laughter cuts off his random stuttering, making him shut his mouth. In one swift movement you let yourself fall onto your back, suddenly bringing him fully on top of you. Kazutora uses his hands to stop himself, each one on either side of your head. Nervously, he chews on his bottom lip, eyes darting all over the place. "Did you ask because you want to do it again?" You question, your tone soft and flirty as you wrap your arms around his neck. You send an intense shiver down his spine, his heart feels like it's about to explode. All he could muster was a slight nod. His bashfulness was doing something to you right now. The way he could barely look at you, but once he does he's completely entranced. It's the sweetest thing.

"Is that a yes?" You raise a brow slightly in amusement. He gives you a choked out "yes", unconsciously leaning down closer. You take that as the perfect opportunity, using your arms around his neck to gently pull him closer, enough to where your lips were just barely touching. His hair creates a curtain around the two of you, some strands lightly tickling your cheeks. "Then kiss me." You urge, eyes filled with desire. Without a second thought, he closes the thin gap, pressing his lips against yours desperately. Instantly you let out a soft sigh, placing a hand in his hair as the other cups his face, kissing him back with just as much need. Your lips move together slowly, as if they were recognizing each other after all this time. His lips feel perfect, so soft and smooth, even better than back then. He's addictive.

Slowly the two of you pull away, catching your breath. Kazutora's blushing up to his ears, yet his eyes look at you with a hunger you've never seen. "Can we do it again?" He asks in a low tone.

"You don't have to ask, K." You chuckle, eyes already fixed on his lips as you pull him into another kiss. This one is much more intense than the first. Both hands cup his face as you move your lips against his a bit faster. Your body temperature was rising quickly, and your breathing became slightly heavier. You needed more. Taking full control of the kiss you coax his mouth open, letting your tongue explore him a bit further. He lets out a little noise of surprise, struggling to keep up. Abruptly you pull away once again, looking up at him with a frown.

"You don't wanna touch me?" You tilt your head to the side. This whole time it was just you touching him, his hands just stayed put right on either side of your head.

"I-I didn't know if you wanted me to." He says nervously.

"If I wanted you to, would you?" You ask playfully, running your hands down his sides then pulling him against you by his waist. A short gasp leaves his lips at your boldness, your bodies were touching now, touching in places he's never felt before. You smile softly, bringing him into another kiss. He was eager this time to feel your tongue again, so instantly he opens his mouth, brushing his tongue against your bottom lip gently. Your tongues dance with one another in a passionate kiss, your hand slowly reaching for his arm. Taking his hand, you place it on your cheek to start.

Your hands travel up and down his torso, taking your time as you finally get to touch him. He's always been muscular, but now he's much more filled out. You trail from his shoulders down his back, feeling the way he shivers in response, then make your way to his stomach. The feeling of his abs under your fingertips excited you an indecent amount. You were doing younger you such a huge favor, as she'd always fantasize about what he'd feel like. Just then, you feel him start to harden up underneath his pants, a tent pressing against you making your heart, and admittedly, your pussy flutter.

Abruptly, Kazutora pulls away, eyes fearful and wide. His random movement making you jump a little. "I'm so sorry!" He says frantically, attempting to get off of you but you grab his arms, keeping him still. "No no, it's ok! I don't mind at all." You assure with a light chuckle. He's so innocent and nervous, it's adorable, looking at you all unsure and embarrassed. "We're just kissing. You don't have to be so jumpy." You cup his face in your hands. "But-..but-

You cut him off, pulling him down again and bringing your lips to his ear. "I mean...I like that I can get you like this from just a kiss. It's really cute." You purr sensually, moving back so you could see his reaction. His entire face had gone red, innocent eyes wide as his mind malfunctions while trying to process your words.

"I-..I wanna take you out!" He blurts out abruptly, catching you completely off guard. "On a date; together." He finishes awkwardly, blushing his head off. "Well I mean I figured it'd be together" You chuckle softly, "What's making you say this all of a sudden?"

"It's not all of a sudden. I've wanted to go on a date with you for the longest time. I think-..shouldn't I take you out on a date first before we do things like this? That's how I'm supposed to do it right?" He asks innocently. He's just too adorable, ughh gosh. You didn't want to say no since honestly you like his more traditional way of thinking when it comes to this.

"You're right. I'd love to go on a date with you." You smile softly, leaning up and giving him a small peck on the cheek. For a moment he looks surprised, shocked that you'd agreed so easily, then a wide smile spreads across his lips.

"Really?!" He beams cutely.

"Yes, Kazutora." You chuckle, shaking your head at his excitement.

A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: Stop it's literally disrespectful how short this chapter is I feel terrible😭 BUT, if you want, comment and let me know if I should double post and have chapter 12 out tomorrow.

[sungbeam]

requests, the third round

a/n: yk,, i always say im not good with requests, but sometimes, i really do just need a whole system reboot and to look at other people's ideas 💀 so this is me trying 🤸‍♀️

NOW OPEN FROM TODAY, SEPT. 5TH TO FRIDAY, SEPT. 8TH !! NOW CLOSED

some ground rules:

✶ remember that i am Not Good At Requests. if i don't end up getting to yours/give up on them, then i'm sorry. if u want a guaranteed fic, u prob shouldn't come to my inbox :')

✶ this is my mainly sfw blog; pls keep all requests pg-13, suggestive at the most. here's a sample of how far i'm willing to go for the sake of readers on this blog.

✶ i'm very much willing to write about death, grief, violence, and blood, to an extent. pls do not send a request romanticizing toxic and/or abusive relationships, bc i will delete it.

✶ i write fem reader at default, but i am very much open to gn reader too. just be sure to specify!

✶ would i write a love triangle? a love square? a love octagon??? (yes, i'm bringing this back) if u want it, and i have the energy for it, lmk LMAO

✶ ONCE YOU HAVE SENT IN A REQUEST, i will update this post below the cut with requests i've received so far. pls check there for if i've seen your ask :]

how to request:

send a prompt(s)/au/song inspo/etc + genre(s) + desired idol boyo(s)!!

— i'll write for anyone from the EIGHT groups i have a masterlist for LOL (prob an emphasis on tbz but maybe this'll get me back to ncity, who knows)

— some prompt ideas: dialogue. question starters. fluff. hozier for vibes. from a villain. werewolf by night quotes.

request queue!

— if u told me i don't have to use all the prompts, i still put them down just so i have all the ideas in one place ^_^

lee hyunjae x "you feel like home to me" x debut/predebut era — from anon

jung wooyoung x "i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me" x "there’s nothing sweeter than my baby" x fluff, suggestive — from @jaehunnyy

lee hyunjae x e2l x "i don't understand why you have to torment me every second of the day! you were a sweetheart when you left, obviously life happened and now you're a devil! what the fuck, lee jaehyun?!" x "you don't understand how i think of you everyday when we were apart" x "i'm not saying that i'm using you but could you fix me? put me back together?" — from anon

kim sunwoo x e2l x spy au x angst x "working together again, it’s just like old times." x "clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place." x "the only one who gets to kill you, is me." x "enemies make the best lovers, you know. " x "why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood?" — from @shakalakaboomboo

hwang intak or yoon keeho x “it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break.” x hurt/comfort — from anon

eric sohn x bffs2l x "was that your first kiss?" x "you can kiss me, you know." — from @mosviqu

eric sohn x “i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you” x “promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up?” — from @ericlvr

lee sangyeon x spy au x "what are you doing out here by yourself?" x "you gonna be a good girl for me?" x "they're dangerous? well unfortunately, so am i." x suggestive/action — from @winterchimez

choose an idol boy 😋 x actors au x e2l x happy ending by svt — from 🌷 anon

idol boy selection in progress x corpse bride au x horror — from 🌷 anon

lee juyeon(?) x soc/helnik au x "i fell in love with the fire long ago." — from @hqrana

xu minghao x "when i was a child, i heard voices… some would sing and some would scream." x "i’m standing in the ashes of who i used to be." x shang-chi au x angst and/or comfort — from @tranquilpetrichor

jacob bae or ji changmin x hozier's francesca x hurt/comfort, angst x a love that endures — from @zzoguri

ji changmin x new year's day (taylor swift) x fluff, comfort — from anon

jacob bae x band au x secret muse/songwriter au x vancouver by big naughty x busking — from @hongyangi

choi chanhee x e2l x she fell first, but he fell harder trope x banter/teasing — from @richasdiary

lee hyunjae x royalty au x poor girl/servant girl x royalty/prince au — from anon

lee hyunjae x bad boy good girl trope — from anon

kevin moon x older brother's best friend x secret relationship x "good morning, sleeping beauty." x "is that my shirt?" x "you look good like this." x "are you trying to get us in trouble?" x "are you sure this is a good idea?" x fluff, suggestive — from @confuchan

lee juyeon x "we can't keep doing this" x bffs 2 lovers — from anon

choi beomgyu x heartbreak girl by 5sos x angst, uber fluffy ending — from @loveliestfelix

lee jeno x best friends 2 lovers x dress by taylor swift — from anon

eric sohn x hands by flatsound x angst with or without a happy ending — from anon

eric sohn x “is that my shirt?” x fluff/suggestive — from anon

lee hyunjae x "you can hold my hand, if you want." x zombie apocalypse au — from anon

kim sunwoo x sweet nothing by taylor swift — from anon

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

On a Tuesday | pt. 2 of 2

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Part One Masterlist

Summary: Life had been a bit lonely – that is until Peter Parker brightened up your life. On a Tuesday. And when that friendship seems to fizzle out on a Tuesday? You’re sure the universe is playing some sort of trick on you. 

Word Count: ~14,900 (i’m sorry)

Warnings: A bit of angst. Fluff. Reunited friends to lovers. Hurt/comfort. Canon level violence. Description of wounds and stitching it up. Some angst. Brief mention of throwing up. It gets just a teensy suggestive at the end. Light swearing.

A/N: Thank you so much for the love! I hope this ending fixes all the angst I caused. I really enjoyed writing these characters, and they took my story that was supposed to be short and ran with it lol. I hope you love it, and thank you for reading! I love hearing your thoughts <3

                                           *

You finally saw your new house after spending too many days cramped in a box-filled car with your parents. It was bigger, but the roominess felt cold, and lonely. Carrying your things in and finding your bedroom, you hoped filling it with decorations and old stuffed animals that made the room yours would help it feel better. Like a new start, rather than an ending.

Starting at a new school halfway through high school wasn’t the easiest. Your body tried pulling in on itself like it did all those years ago spent alone in middle school. But remembering the way Peter changed that all around made up your mind – you wouldn’t let yourself fall into despair again. And you had learned you couldn’t rely on others to fix things.

Remembering Peter did hurt, and you thought about unblocking him nearly every day. But you found some students that you shared classes with, and you somehow worked up the courage to ask if you could sit with them at lunch. And as they accepted you, welcoming you with interested questions and light jokes, it really did feel like a beginning.

Through the last two years of high school, Gwen was really the only one you talked to from back home. She was set on sending letters back and forth, wanting to keep up the tradition you had accidentally started. She updated you on what was happening in school and the town in general. You smiled down at the paper, reading her words of Harry doing better. His grades were good, sure, but he carried himself differently. She rarely mentioned Peter, though when she did, it mostly talked about how little he showed up around school anymore.

And you got a few cards from Aunt May for your birthday and some holidays, her swooping handwriting gracing a love-filled card with sweet messages in them. You sent thank-you cards back to her every time and sent a card for her birthday. You would write “Hope you and Peter are doing well!” but couldn’t bring yourself to ask further about him. Similar to Gwen, May just wrote that he seemed good but was often gone from the house.

The years passed quickly as you got a bit more involved with friends and school, keeping your grades up so you could get into the colleges you were looking at. You thought about local universities, ones your new friends might go to, but the thought of returning to New York pulled at the back of your mind.

In her letters, Gwen mentioned attending Empire State University, and you couldn’t deny the way hope bloomed in your chest at the thought of being with her again. And though Flash was also planning on attending, she told you Harry was thinking about it as well. The home you were forced to leave behind called to you, and as your high school announced your name while walking across the stage, they also announced that you would be attending ESU.

Your parents had decided to make a whole trip out of it – to visit old friends after moving you in for college orientation. You all pulled up to the campus parking lot and got out, your eyes watching all the students and supervisors running around. There was barely any time to process the chaos when you heard a squeal from Gwen, your new college roommate. 

She gave a crushing hug, and while her bright laugh and the genuine jokes between you two seemed exactly the same, there was still a two-year space between you. Still, none of it felt like it mattered when she pulled away and said, “I can’t believe you’re actually here, in the flesh. I’m so excited. Come check out our apartment!” Your cheeks soon started hurting from smiling so hard.

You two got an on-campus apartment, and while its walls were an ugly off-white and had too many mysterious stains, it was a home with Gwen. Your parents and her father caught up while helping you unpack. The place started to look like a real living space when a knock rang out on the apartment door.

Gwen looked at you, biting her lip as a smile grew across her face. “Oh, I invited our first real guest. I hope that’s okay!” she said while opening the door. She cackled at the way your mouth dropped open when you saw Harry standing in the hallway.

She let him in, but he only took a step before you crashed into him to give a long-overdue hug. “Harry, you’re really here. It’s been so long,” you said, trying to keep the happy tears from coming out.

“Hey, kid,” he breathed out, his cheek resting against your head. 

You pulled back, admiring the way his features had grown sharper and his hair shorter since you last saw him. With a smile, you said, “You’re just in time to help us decorate. We need your expertise.”

He nodded with a wide grin, giving a fake bow and said, “Do not fret. Your hero has now arrived.”

“Wow, a hero? Are you secretly Spider-Man?” Gwen asked, sarcasm dripping in her voice and making the parents laugh.

You said, “Oh, yeah. I can’t believe I’ll actually get to see the famous New York Spider-Man, unless of course he’s in front of me right now.” You gestured to Harry, but he just lightly smacked your arm and got to helping you unpack and decorate.

Gwen had written to you about this strange masked vigilante, about the people that loved him and those that weren’t as nice about it. You had seen some big events on the news about him, and you understood the risks he made that people disliked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. He was clearly trying to help a city that desperately needed it. You were excited to actually see him in action.

With these thoughts drifting through your head, you glanced over at Gwen and Harry discussing where to put a lamp. Gwen put the lampshade on Harry’s head and laughed, their infectious energy bringing you over to join their antics. 

And that’s how college began. All three of you had your own majors and clubs you were in, but at the end of the day, it would be Gwen, Harry, and you sitting down to have crappy cafeteria food together. It felt like the right balance you had been looking for back in high school, and your heart was finally content.

That was until Parent Weekend rolled around the next month. Your parents couldn’t make the long trek out, but you were just fine spending the weekend with Gwen’s dad and brothers. Harry tagged along as well, as his father had other duties to attend to. Her younger brothers were busy playing some carnival games the school had set up, and the college’s mascot was roaming around to get everyone excited for the football game that day.

You turned away from one of the concession stands after grabbing cotton candy when it felt like your breath was knocked from your chest. There, a few feet away, stood Aunt May enjoying a food stand hotdog. After taking a bite, she looked up, and your eyes connected. The world seemed to pause for a moment before you rushed over to her food in hand.

She immediately wiped her mouth and brought you in for a hug. She said, “Do my eyes deceive me? Oh my lord, is it really you?”

You nodded, your face crinkling as a smile grew over your face. “May, I can’t believe it. I’m so happy to see you.”

She squeezed your hand before asking a million questions about what has changed over the past two years, and she responded in between bites. After a few minutes, you heard Gwen calling your name, and you waved her and Harry over. “You guys will never believe who I ran into!”

As soon as May saw them, her eyes became glassy. The four of you shared a moment together, catching up with wide smiles like almost nothing had changed. Except… Gwen asked the question floating in the air. “Hey, May, what are you doing here, by the way? Peter isn’t…” She trailed off, letting May fill in the blank. You were glad you weren’t the only one unaware of what Peter was up to these days.

And you had been so caught up in seeing May again that you’d nearly forgotten all about Peter and his number you blocked so long ago. Almost like her words were far away or underwater, you heard her distantly say, “I would say I’m surprised he didn’t tell you, but he didn’t tell me you guys were here either! He made a last-minute decision to attend ESU, but I’m here to surprise him. He thinks I’m busy working, but I’m sure he’s around here somewhere…”

They continued chatting about it, but their voices didn’t really reach your ears as you turned around to look for him. Peter was here? 

You searched through the crowds of students and families wearing your college’s colors, but it was noisy and the air smoky from the concession stands working overtime. You were about to turn back and tune into the conversation again when you heard that unmistakable laugh, a melodic sound your ears refused to forget.

You whipped your head around to locate the noise, and when you finally saw him, your breath escaped you. With his face tilted backward and his hand on his chest, his body shook with laughter as he walked next to another student several yards away. He wore a university t-shirt, the short sleeves showing off his arms. Did they always look like that?

It’s then you noticed how he had grown, again. But mostly, he looked fuller, more complete. Like himself again, except his glasses were gone. You had always hoped time would serve him well, letting the wounds of Uncle Ben fade a little as years passed. 

You weren’t too sure about miracles or fate, but it truly felt like the clouds parted to shine a light down on his ruffled hair when he looked forward again. The sun floated down on his skin and turned his dark eyes into the warmest brown you had ever seen as they looked at you. His steps stuttered for a second before he stopped moving completely. You barely noticed his friend also stopping, looking confused at Peter, before you handed Gwen your cotton candy, and your legs began moving.

You snaked between groups of people, and he did the same, not letting anyone slow you down. Harry may have been calling your name as you left, but you didn’t look back or answer, not when Peter was mere feet away from you. You squeezed past another person before… 

It was him, standing right in front of you, his chest heaving up and down.

It was only a heartbeat or two of looking at him, really looking, before you lunged at him to wrap him in a squeezing hug, his arms holding so tight to your body like he would never let go again. The flaming anger of his absence in your life was still lit in your stomach, but the light fizzled just a little when he whispered, “You’re here, you’re here,” over and over again. 

He kept his hands wrapped around your arms when pulling back, his eyes looking you up and down as if he didn’t believe it was really you. You wanted to look away, just for a second to escape his intense gaze, but you couldn’t. He was here, and that was what mattered.

“Hi,” he breathed out, a permanent grin plastered on his face.

“Hey.”

“It’s you.” “It’s me. And, it’s you,” you laughed back, your hands gesturing up and down. 

“Wow, I…” he started but cleared his throat. “I should introduce you to my friend,” he said while turning around, but the guy he was walking with was nowhere to be found. “I guess he left.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare off your friends.” It was mostly true, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel too guilty as you two walked back shoulder-to-shoulder to May, Gwen, and Harry. The way his skin brushed against yours felt foreign and like home at the same time, like your body discovering an old song again that brought back so many memories.

You heard May’s voice say, “Oh, that’s where she ran off to. She found the missing boy.”

A laugh tumbled from your mouth, and Gwen and Harry turned to look at you two. Harry opened his arms and patted Peter’s back, the two boys sharing a moment. When Peter finally turned to Gwen, she had her mouth pressed tight. 

“Peter Benjamin Parker, how could you not tell us you were coming to ESU?” she asked, her arms crossed over her chest. He scratched the back of his neck and mumbled some excuse, but she just laughed and welcomed him in after a second.

And you all then bombarded him, asking him where he lived, what his major was, where he’d been lately, and about his friends on campus. He easily answered all of them, except for a vague response as to why he’d been absent all the time, but you had given up on getting that out of him a while ago.

“I saw that MJ went to some out-of-state university. What was the name of it again?” Harry asked.

You saw Aunt May’s eyes cast downward as Peter let out a sharp sigh. “It was a college down in Florida, but we, um, we’re not together anymore,” he said, and your heart felt a bit weak at the way he got that glazed-over look again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to…” Harry trailed off, giving Peter a sympathetic look. Gwen also offered an apology, resting her hand on his arm.

He waved him off, “It’s okay. Long-distance isn’t really my deal.” 

You all stood there, and you couldn’t stand the silence that no longer felt easy and comfortable. “Well, I hope cotton candy is still your deal. It was always your favorite,” you said and offered it to him.

A simple, grateful smile passed over his face, and he ripped off a piece, dropping it into his mouth. He thanked you and said, “I’m sure your guys’ dating lives were much more successful than mine.” He gave a small laugh, and you were sure he meant well, but it just made your heart ache even more.

Harry and Gwen talked about the few people they’d dated over the years. You stood there with your attention on them but stayed quiet yourself. As Peter glanced toward you, you were sure he noticed your silence. You hadn’t found anyone out West that your heart was set on, no one there to make you smile the way…

Gwen interrupted your train of thinking and asked you about what coffee shop you all should make your hangout spot. Making small talk with her and Harry, you were thankful for her distraction, both from the dating question and from your thoughts.

You caught a glimpse of May making silent faces at Peter during the conversation, her eyes widening and mouthing something. When the correct cafe was chosen, the unoriginally named Coffee Bean near campus, Peter cleared his throat and offered, “Hey, my roommates and I got a crappy projector a couple of weeks ago, if we wanted to have a movie night or something.”

Certain your wide grin looked a bit cheesy but not caring one bit, you readily accepted, excited for a classic movie night with your childhood friends again. Gwen and Harry agreed as well, and this was where you’d usually lose hope that it would actually happen, but Peter got out his phone to look at his calendar. Right then and there, the four of you made concrete plans for next Friday night.

Glancing over to the side, you saw May looking pleased, and you knew your face couldn’t look too far off. The five of you spent most of the day together, watching the football game but really paying more attention to catching up with each other. As the day came to an end, their laughs seared into your brain once again, the group split up again as May and Gwen’s family returned home, and Harry and Peter walked back to their own apartments.

Making your way back home, you strolled with Gwen arm in arm, and your steps almost felt a bit lighter. When the door shut behind you, you said to her, “I really can’t believe he’s here.”

“I know, right? He seems like he’s pretty happy. I’m so glad the gang's back together,” she responded, taking her shoes off and putting away her things.

“It’s so nice to talk to him,” you said, taking your shoes off as well. With a sigh, you muttered, “I hadn’t heard from him in so long, though that’s my own doing, really.”

“What do you mean?”

You picked at the edge of your nails, blowing out a long breath. “I blocked him when I left two years ago and didn’t tell anyone. It’s just… It hurt being let down by him all the time, and I said my goodbye in the letter. I know it was naive to come back here and not expect to see him, but I didn’t plan on attending the same school as him!”

She had been watching you as you paced back and forth and nodded, pursing her lips. “Well, if we’re going to all be friends again, you’re going to have to clear the air with him.”

“I know,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands. You felt bad, but he had to have known why you did it. He didn’t even show up to say goodbye and always blew you off. Later that night, curled in your bed and blankets, you finally unblocked his number with a deep breath out. 

Part of you felt ready to talk to him about this and move past it, start a new era together. That part saw the way his eyes lit up when they locked on yours; it remembered how being with him felt like coming home. And as you scrolled through texts you had forced yourself to forget, the other part of you came back screaming and unwilling to be silenced. Nearly every other text was him saying he couldn’t make it to lunch or he had to skip out on plans. That part of you rolled its eyes at old jokes and memories you wanted to smile at.

Over the next week leading up to Friday, you went back and forth in your mind on what you would say to Peter. Your heart leapt into your throat every time you saw his oh-so-familiar face on campus, loving the way he smiled the second he saw you. Then, as soon as he passed, your pounding heart hardened – why couldn’t he have made this kind of effort years ago? Though you did realize he was so young then and still recovering from Uncle Ben’s murder, something you couldn’t imagine how to cope with.

But he could’ve at least talked to you. You nearly wanted to rip your hair out at this back and forth your mind went through. By the time Friday rolled around, you’d decided on staying true to your hurt feelings while being open-minded to what he had to say – determined to shoot for the middle. You just hoped your aim was good enough. 

You thought you could pull him to the side before the night started, ripping off the bandaid with a quick conversation before restarting your friendship. But when you arrived with Gwen and Peter swung open that door, his warm eyes taking you in, your mind went quiet. Everything you’d planned to say went out the window as Gwen pulled you in by your arm, your feet feeling a bit stuck under Peter’s gaze. Harry, already sat on a plush bean bag chair, yelled, “Hey! Join the party!” 

The apartment smelled of fresh popcorn, and Peter had set out a variety of snacks and drinks. You cautiously grabbed some provisions, voice quiet while the rest caught up before sitting down in the middle of the couch. Gwen sat on one side of you, Peter on the other. 

You tightened your legs together, trying to shield yourself a bit from his body, too aware of the possibility of your knee touching his and the conversation you planned to have with him soon weighing over you. You wondered if this heavy rain cloud constantly over you was over him too – if he had thought much about you these past two years.

But once everyone was settled, the room dark and ready for the movie… the four of you ended up spending almost an hour just talking and joking. You reminisced about your favorite memories, finding your muscles loosening a bit as Harry brought up the story of you guys going to the skatepark for the first time.

Peter doubled over in fits of laughter and ragged breaths, and you couldn’t help but smile along with him. As he told the story, it slowly felt easier to sit next to him again. He pointed toward you and Gwen, saying, “I forced you to come to the skatepark and finally learn, but you both ended up falling so many times, I had to give you piggyback rides back to the car.”

Giggling, you added, “And I wanted you to skate with me on your back, but you wouldn’t!”

“You would’ve never forgiven me for eating shit and landing on you,” he said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes.

Gwen, with her typical guffaw, said, “Then we made Peter buy us all ice cream to make up for the trauma he put us through.” She shook her head, “I’m still keeping my promise to never touch a skateboard again.”

After the laughter died down and too many stories were half-told before switching to the next, the popcorn bowl laid empty, and your ribs hurt from laughing so hard. Finally, you asked, “So, are we actually going to watch a movie?” before grabbing the remote. They agreed, but you passed over countless options, none of which could get all four of you to say yes to.

“Man, was it always this hard to pick a movie with you guys?” Harry asked, his legs laying over one side of the armrest, his head laying on the other.

Gwen responded, “No, because we were tweens and watched whatever movie was on cable at the time.” You nodded, a small grin appearing at remembering. Things sure did feel simpler then.

No one chose anything, so you said, “Okay, let’s just go with a classic. Who’s up for Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?” 

You all had seen it before, but still, everyone raised their hands, and you quickly pressed play before going to refill the large bowl with more popcorn. Ferris’s incredible opening monologue played when you sat back down, sending a few kernels flying. The four of you laughed at the aloof school secretary scenes and aww’d at Cameron’s sad pool scene. A heart-warming movie night needed a heart-warming movie, and it delivered.

And it feel just right, except for the goosebumps slowly littering your arms and legs, the A/C blowing onto your skin. Before you knew it, a soft blanket was placed on your lap, and you looked to your side to see Peter spreading it out on top of you. He whispered, “You seemed cold,” as he tucked in the ends around your legs. He left it at that as he turned back to the TV, and you hoped he didn’t see your warm cheeks despite your cold body.

Between the late hour and the comfy blanket, you had started nodding off near the end of the movie. Your eyelids kept opening and shutting during Ferris’s iconic scene of him running home before his family arrived. It was a classic, but things felt good again, and before you knew it, your body gave way to sleep.

You weren’t sure how long you had been out when your eyes blearily blinked open. The world looked fuzzy, and there was just a soft glow from the TV to light up the room. The warm blanket made you want to snuggle in further and fall back asleep, but your “pillow” shifted slightly beneath you. With a stiff neck, you raised your head and squinted to see what was disturbing your comfortable sleep.

But it wasn’t a pillow. Peter looked down at you, his soft eyes humming with kindness. His hand came up to your face, rubbing a thumb across your cheek before coming away with a stray strand of hair. You already missed the warmth of his touch, but the way he looked back at you was enough. 

You would have stared at him forever until you realized you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and eyeing his shirt, you saw that there was a small wet spot. You whipped your head around to find the TV was playing some sitcom on mute, but captions on, and Harry and Gwen weren’t in their spots anymore.

Turning back to Peter and bringing your hands to your face, you said, “I’m so sorry. I can wash your shirt if you want. I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep…”

He tilted his head slightly and smiled. “You don’t have to wash my clothes. We’re at college now. I’ve had much worse on me,” he said, laughing at the way you crinkled your nose at his words. “Besides, it can be an equal trade for how adorable you looked while sleeping. Even when snoring like a trucker.”

“Hey! I do not snore like a trucker, thank you very much,” you declared, crossing your arms and hoping it somehow hid your warm cheeks and thoughts playing catch-up. Did he really think you were adorable while drooling on him? “Anyway, where did Harry and Gwen go?”

He let out a long yawn, his words coming out slow and muddled, “Oh, they went home a bit ago. It’s well past midnight.” “I was asleep for that long…?” you shook your head. You wanted to curse how comfortable Peter made you, how easy it was for him to break down these walls you had built, but as you watched the glow from the TV flicker across his face, illuminating every freckle he had, you couldn’t hate him for the way he made you feel. Though you found a soft dislike for the way your body always seemed to come back to his, like a satellite with no say in what it was programmed to revolve around.

As all of this ran through your head, Peter rested his chin on his knee, watching the way your eyes flicked back and forth, your lips moving to mouth some of the words you were thinking. It wasn’t until he called your name a few times that you looked up at him. He asked, “Are you okay?”

The sigh you slowly let out turned into a groan as you knew it had to be in this moment. It was just you two. “Peter, are we okay?” You stood up, unable to look at him or look at him looking at you while saying this. Your feet brushed against the itchy rug he had while pacing back and forth. “I just mean, there’s two years between us missing. I know it’s partly my fault, and I’m partly sorry, but I feel like there’s so much that just went unsaid.” 

As the last words left your mouth, you turned back toward him to see he was now sitting cross-legged on the couch, fully alert. He brushed his hair back and blew out a breath. “Uh, yeah. I assumed we’d have this talk at some point; guess I wasn’t expecting it right after you drooled on me.” And he smiled when that got a small giggle out of you.

He continued, his smile quickly disappearing, “I’m assuming you blocked my number not too long after you left.” If he blinked, he would’ve missed the tiny nod you gave him or the way your eyes unfocused for a second. “Being honest with you… I called every day for weeks, hell, probably a couple of months. Texted you for even longer. I read your letter too late, just an hour too late,” he said, balling his hands up and pushing them against his forehead. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been there.”

A tightness welled up in your chest, creeping up your throat as tears bubbled at the corner of your eyes. “God, I wish you had been there. I thought about what I’d say to you the whole car ride. How I’d finally give you a piece of my mind when we saw each other again…” You trailed off, head angling toward the ground.

“You thought about seeing me again?” he wondered, his body shifting forward ever so slightly, closer to you.

You scoffed. “Every lanky, brown-haired boy that came around, I just saw you for half a second,” you breathed out, fingers picking at the hem of your shirt. 

His palms rubbed repeatedly against his thighs. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said, letting out a long breath. He raised his hands up, his palms toward you in a surrendering position. “Let me hear the speech. I deserve every word you have to say.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. “I needed that time apart from you, but that’s the thing. Being away and now having you here, I don’t want to scream at you anymore. I just…” you trailed off, about to explain why you did what you did, but he nodded.

“I know. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said, standing up from the couch to come to you, but you placed a hand out in front of you.

“No, Peter,” you said, taking a step back. “I really want to say you don’t know – that you have no clue – but maybe you do. I just, if we’re going to try again, I need you to do better this time around. Please,” you pleaded, your outstretched hand shaking.

His face flashed some sort of look you couldn’t decipher, but your racing mind didn’t help you in figuring it out. A mix of raised eyebrows, jaw slightly dropping, and eyes blinking just a bit too hard had your heart breaking. He looked down and sighed, “You’re right. I…” Pressing his mouth tight, he met your eyes for a brief second and then looked around the room. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be perfect, but I will be better. I swear.”

His words started out quiet but grew as he talked. “As long as you promise to not close yourself off and shut us out. Deal?” he asked, reaching a tentative arm out toward you.

You studied his fingers just breaths away from yours. Maybe it resembled the Creation of Adam painting, their outstretched hands nearly touching. Or maybe it looked more like a truce, a helping hand to pull you up and out… again. You focused on his rough skin as you slid your palm against his and grasped it, squeezing his hand tight and weakly shaking it. You whispered, “Deal.”

The second you said it, he pulled your arm, bringing your body close to his in one swift movement. As a squeak escaped your mouth, his arms wrapped around you, your bodies pressed tight together. “Is this okay?” he asked.

It felt strange, being so close to him again. But you couldn’t deny how much the familiar warmth of his body felt like home, and you nodded against him. He swayed with you on that ugly rug in the early morning even though you knew he was tired, and a few tears slid down your cheeks. 

If he had asked why you were crying, you doubt you could explain it, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t have to. You weren’t sure how long had passed like that, just letting his breaths raise his chest up and down against you, before a laugh came out of your mouth. He pulled back to look at you, asking, “What is it?”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your arm and said, “I’ve now soiled your shirt twice. Ugh, you make me a mess.”

“Um, pretty sure you're the one that made me a mess.”

“Oh, hush,” you said. And it was so nice to feel the rumble of his laugh so close against you as you curled into him again. 

“Stay the night?” he asked, and he must’ve felt the way your heart jumped into your throat or how your stomach twisted in on itself because he immediately followed up with, “It’s just pretty late to walk back now. You can take my bed if you want. Or– Or the couch!”

“I can take the couch as long as I get to have that blanket.” The thought of sharing the bed with him played in the back of your mind, how close you two would finally be. But you had just vomited your feelings at him and cried on him, and you needed time to let your heart settle down. 

“Of course,” he said, reassuring you that he’d leave the door open a crack in case you wanted to switch, and he began bringing out pillows, sheets, and extra pajamas in your size (though you wanted to question why he had them, they smelled just like him, so you didn’t complain). You thanked him, and when you had everything tucked into the corners and he had fluffed the pillow a bit roughly for your amusement, Peter stood just outside his room, rocking back and forth on his heels.

He placed his hand on the doorknob and stared at you. With a gentle smile, he asked in a bare whisper, “Friends again?”

Holding the pajamas close to your chest, you nodded, the edges of your eyes crinkling. “Friends again.”

His grin turned toothy and wide before wishing you a good night and walking into his room, leaving it open a few inches. You padded to the bathroom to change and get ready before snuggling into the comfortable couch. Maybe it was because Peter wasn’t next to you or because of the conversation, but your thoughts kept you from relaxing.

He really called you sweetheart… Did he usually do that to people? You didn’t think so, but it’d been two years. Maybe he’d changed. And he seemed really certain he would keep his promise this time, but how much can someone actually change? Your brain ran through a million scenarios of what might come from this night, and slowly, your mind tired itself out. You laid there on his couch, under his blanket, in his pajamas, next to him on the other side of the wall. Yeah, something had definitely changed between you two, and as you slipped into sleep, you hoped it was for the better.

                                            *

You never understood those rom-coms where the actors woke up in the morning with perfect hair and their mind immediately awake. Your first moments of waking up involved your face scrunching tight and your body curling even tighter into the sheets as small crashing noises and muffled grumbling came from somewhere. Sunlight shined through the curtainless window right into your eyes, and your body felt out of place wherever you were, but it felt too early to care.

A floorboard creaking rang out into the room, and with resistant muscles, you turned around to face the back of the couch, pulling the blanket over your head. Distantly, you heard the sound of a door closing and the shower running. Just as your body relaxed again after a few minutes, the sound of something dropping reverberated through the whole apartment. With a sigh, you were sure the downstairs neighbor didn’t appreciate it and finally sat up.

Your hands came up to rub the sleep from your eyes, blurring your vision for a few seconds. Recognizing the room, all the memories waltzed back into your mind, your stomach fluttering for a second. When you heard the shower shut off, you called out, “Peter?”

There was another crash and a “Shit!” that was certainly Peter. His voice responded faintly, “Good morning! I, um, was just showering cause I worked out. I’ll be out in a second!”

You told him, “Okay, just don’t hog the bathroom too long!” You stood up, shuffling toward the kitchen for breakfast. Thoughts ran through your head while rummaging through the fridge and cupboards; he wasn’t the kind to squeeze in an early morning workout, especially after a late night. But he did look more… filled out than the last time you’d seen him. Maybe he had changed

Though, it didn’t seem he was that different because you couldn’t find much besides energy drinks and expired food. A partially crushed box of cereal sat in the back, but they didn’t have any milk. You stuck your head back in the fridge to double check when you heard hurried steps walk past behind you.

Standing back up and turning around, you said, “Peter, do you even own actual food or–” The door to Peter’s room slammed shut with a bang, and the bathroom door was now open with steam trickling out of it. 

“Ah, didn’t mean to close it that hard! Sorry, just getting dressed,” he said with more frantic rustling coming from his room. “And no, we don’t really have food.”

You gave a small smile and shoved your hand into the box, pulling out a handful of cereal to eat. Looking around the apartment, you suddenly felt determined to help him with this place… somehow. Harry’s apartment didn’t look this much like a bachelor pad. You’d have to talk to him and Gwen about sprucing up Peter’s place, and supplying his kitchen.

Finally, the door to his bedroom opened up. Seeing Peter’s soft grin in the morning light felt different, like there was something to say — like the air itself and the small pieces of dust floating through it were yelling for something. He looked at you, laughing as your hand shoved back into the box. You raised your eyebrows at him, silently asking, “What’s so funny?” but he just weakly shook his head. “Those pajamas suit you well.”

“Suit me well?” you laughed. “What, am I a businessman trying on a new suit?”

He shuffled over and grabbed the box from you, leaving you with a hand clumping more cereal, a few pieces falling onto the floor. He shoved an excessive amount of cereal into his mouth while saying, “You know, I might’ve even said they looked cute on you. But you were sassy, so now you get treated like a businessman: ‘Give me a return on investment by 5 pm! Run it up the flagpole if you have to!’” he shouted, raising his finger into the air while giving a nearly perfect impression of J. Jonah Jameson, which left you bent over laughing. 

“Analyze the company’s big data… I think. I’ve never taken a business class,” he finished, shrugging his shoulders before cramming more cereal into his mouth.

“Peter, I think you’re the most ridiculous person I have ever met,” you said and looked into his eyes, unable to contain the smile he etched on your face. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

With a matching grin, you two went and sat in the living room, relaxing and catching up for a bit longer. You threw bits of cereal back and forth to each other, trying to catch it in your mouths. After he had effortlessly caught 15 in a row, you got up grumbling about him rigging the game and walked to the bathroom to change clothes. You folded the pajamas neatly back in a pile and helped clean up the living room when you got back out.

As you finished tidying the room and putting on your shoes, you blew out a breath and walked to the door. “Okay, well, as much as I ‘love’ dry cereal for breakfast and wearing yesterday’s clothes, I’m going to head back. Thank you again for everything,” you said and watched him walk over to you.

“Oh, yeah. No problem. Do you need me to walk you back?” he asked.

But you weren’t really listening to his question, instead watching his steps. “Hey, are you okay? It looks like you’re limping a bit.”

He stopped in his tracks, looking down at his feet and sweatpants-covered legs. “Um, that’s just from the workout. Misstepped and hurt my ankle a bit, you know? Nothing too major,” he said, his hand rubbing up and down his forearm. “Is that a no then?” Your eyes widened before saying, “Oh, right. No, it’s not too far of a walk. I’ll see you around. And rest up, okay?”

When he nodded and his face softened, his gaze never leaving you, you were happy to escape out the door. Had he always looked at you like that? You let out a long sigh while walking down the hall, your fraying nerves calming down with each step back to your apartment. 

Gwen had squeezed your hands when you told her how the conversation went, happy for the two of you and excited to have the friend group back. The four of you went to the campus cafeteria most days, ordering takeout other nights and watching more movies, playing games, or reminiscing on all the great memories shared between you. 

Some days, it was only three or two of you – classes, work, and projects taking up everyone’s time. Peter made an effort to show up, and you kept to your promise of not shutting them out anymore, slowly communicating with them more and finding some independence in making friends from other classes.

On days Peter was altogether too busy, you’d offer to bring coffee, snacks, or a late dinner to him. The guy had received a science scholarship for ESU and had already completed beginner courses in biology, chemistry, and physics while in high school, easily landing him a position as a teacher’s assistant.

When Peter’s TA responsibilities filled up his lunch hour in between labs and classes, it quickly became your favorite time to bring him something, usually a toasted bagel and coffee with way too much caffeine. It meant you had to walk through the stuffy science building, but it also meant you got to stand at the open classroom door and watch him teach the class.

The first time you did this, you leaned on the doorway as he walked around a skeleton model at the front of the room. He pointed out different joints, explaining how the tendons connected the bones and allowed the body to move. Grabbing its hand, he spun it around, pretending to dance with it. Glancing at the students, you saw their quiet laughs and genuine interest as he went into great detail about how every part of your body worked together to make this possible. 

Watching him in his element, his mind so fully present in what he was doing, made your heart flutter a little. You couldn’t help but love how attentive he was to each and every one of them… or love the way his arms and hands flexed when he gestured every which way. You weren’t sure if you had felt this way about Peter back in high school, but you chewed on your lip at the thought of some schoolgirl crush developing.

The thought solidified and sunk deep into your stomach when he finally turned your way, noticing the bag you held for him. The smile that grew on his face made a grin of your own appear. “Ah, my lunch has arrived…” he said, pointing toward you. “But first, class, what three bones make up the shoulder she’s using to lean on?”

You peered at the students, mouth feeling a bit dry at the sudden attention he’d put on you. A student toward the back raised their hand, answering, “The clavicle, scapula, and… humerus?”

Peter clapped his hands together, making you jump a little. “Correct! Now,” he said, walking over to you. He took the bagel from your grasp, tossing it perfectly onto his desk, and grabbed your hand in his. “Who can tell me what three main types of bones are in the hand?” he asked while spinning you around just as he did with the skeleton. 

You heard a student give some sort of answer that was probably correct, but your eyes were stuck on Peter’s hand slipping away from yours far too soon. Had you not been twirling in front of a class of students, you would have held on tighter and pulled back against him. Instead, you walked back to the door, waving goodbye as Peter said, “Thank you – I’ll pay you back!”

His voice carried through the hallway as he got back to human anatomy with the class. You were sure you looked like some giddy teenager skipping across the floor, but you couldn’t help how good it felt to smile because of Peter again. Your hand was still hot from his touch, and you held it close, feeling it warm against your chest.

You kept these thoughts to yourself, not sure enough of them yet to tell Gwen. Though, that didn’t stop you from running through them again and again, especially when he was busy. You found yourself lost in replaying these conversations with him when walking downtown with Gwen and Harry one afternoon. 

You had gone out to eat at a new diner, but commotion and people hurrying past you drew you toward a nearby street. As you turned the corner, you couldn’t believe the flash of red and blue you saw – your eyes finally saw the New York vigilante swinging above you. The three of you managed to catch a glimpse of Spider-Man flying through the air and over buildings to get to a car crash. You ran to catch up to him, watching the way he ripped open doors and grabbed people out, rushing them away from the crumpled vehicles.

You admired how he dove head first into the danger, risking himself for people he didn’t even know. Other people around you clapped and hollered as everyone laid safe. The excitement swelled in your chest and you couldn’t help but shout, “Way to go, Spider-Man!” with a wide grin. 

It slowly dissolved from your face when his head whipped around and he looked at you three. You stopped clapping, your hands still resting against each other as the ground began shaking beneath your feet. Your arms flew out to hold onto Harry’s arm to keep your balance, but it didn’t help as a crash rang out through the streets, and you all fell to your hands and knees. Debris fell from above, and the unknown destruction sounded muffled against your ears.

Cutting through the shrill ringing came a voice shouting to run, hide, something. There he was. Inches from your face was Spider-Man lifting you up and guiding you away from whatever caused the destruction. You grabbed Harry and Gwen’s hands and ran in the opposite direction from the car wreck. Glancing back one more time before rounding the corner, you spotted the superhero turning to fight a monstrous lizard crawling on a nearby building.

Campus thankfully wasn’t far away, so you ran back to your apartment with heaving chests. Gwen locked the door behind you, which you all knew wouldn’t do much against a supervillain, but it still felt better than nothing. As soon as you checked over each other for any injuries, you fished your phone from your pocket and called Peter, your heart beating fast but not from running. 

The phone rang, your feet pacing back and forth, back and forth. The phone kept ringing. You paced even faster. You groaned, saying, “It went to voicemail.” Your eyes caught the way Harry ran a hand through his hair once, twice, three times and the way Gwen worried her lip with her teeth as she turned on the news.

A second later, your phone buzzed, nearly making you drop it as your muscles tensed. It was a text from Peter. “Oh, okay, guys. Peter just texted,” you said, letting out a deep sigh as you scanned his message. “Turns out he’s TA’ing a class and can’t talk. Thank goodness.” You eyed your friends, and maybe it was in your head, but your body felt lighter, the air feeling easier to breathe.

It took a couple days for things to feel normal again, the news of the giant lizard man attacking the city everywhere, but thankfully Spider-Man was there to stop him for now. And you wished you could say things went back to normal with Peter as well, but your wary mind couldn’t help but notice his increasing absences since that day. Every missed movie night and unreturned call from him ate away at you. 

You saw him here and there, still dropping off food to him while he worked late in the lab. But most of the smiles he caused were over text, the bright light of your phone not nearly as warm as him. Coffee Bean did officially become guys’ hangout, but the baristas working there really only learned three of your names, as Peter rarely showed. Most of the conversations you had with him included him updating that he was okay when one of you frantically called him during another attack near campus.

You invited him to on-campus events. To movie nights. To study sessions. To anything. You really tried to not shut him out or bottle up inside, but there was only so much you could express over text. The three of you planned to say something the next time he was around… but that’d require him showing up for more than a rushed “Hello! Gotta go!” as he ran past.

Wanting to keep your promise, you at least aired your concerns with Gwen and Harry, knowing that they missed his presence too. Selfishly, you wanted him back because you loved seeing him, but part of it was a growing worry festering in your chest. A couple times when you tried to surprise him with food while he was teaching, he hadn’t been in the class when he said he was. None of you could figure out where he went.

One morning, you had felt jaded again, angry that Peter was slipping away once more – even after his promise. You’d say it happened right before your eyes, but he was rarely in front of you anymore. It felt distant, as cold as the blanket of snow built up in these cold months. Your fingers typed a long paragraph to him, using every bit of strength to pry your arms open and keep yourself from closing in on themselves. It was a rambling message full of fragment sentences and thoughts, but still, it was kind. Anger trickled down to your fingertips, but you would not let that spread into the words you wrote him and wouldn’t let them go near that block button either. More than anything, you wanted to pry him open, look him in the eyes to ask what had changed, what he wasn’t telling you.

That afternoon during one of your classes, he sent a short text. All it said was, “Sorry. Will make it up to you. Be there tonight”

A deep breath filled your lungs, pushing in so deep it began to hurt before forcing it all out in one go. You read it again and again, but the words didn’t somehow magically change by the tenth read-through. What time? Should you invite Harry over? Gwen was gone for the week visiting home – should you tell her Peter’s finally coming over? 

These thoughts ran through your head, but you left his message as it was. After class, you tried working on homework, though your mind wanted to focus on anything else. Worksheets were sloppily finished, notes on readings sparse, and essays were just mere outlines, unable to put your everything into anything with the thought of Peter hovering above you. You made dinner somewhere in there while waiting, “accidentally” making enough for two in case he came around. But as the sun dipped below the city’s skyline and bled out beautiful colors among the clouds, and the food grew cold, he was nowhere to be seen. Again.

Unable to spend much more time concentrating on school, you spent the evening scrolling through your phone, scrolling through Netflix, scrolling through channels hoping to find something to catch your attention. The news popped up during your searching. It showed breaking live footage of another battle between Spider-Man and the monster he’d been facing, The Lizard. Knowing Gwen was far away and safe, you texted Peter and Harry for their update. Harry quickly answered, saying he was hanging out with his roommate in his apartment. Peter never answered.

You reassured yourself this was how he usually was lately and that he was okay. The phone laid next to your lap in case he texted back as you watched a recent scene of the events: Spider-Man being tossed against a building, his body smashing through brick and window with a loud crash and screams ringing in the background.

Everything in you winced at the footage, your shoulders leaning forward as you inched to the edge of the seat, waiting with bated breath for him to reappear. A web shot from the hole and wrapped itself around the monster, Spider-Man flying out with a ripped suit and limping movements. He landed one hit after another. They went back and forth, and as your leg began shaking more and your palms felt sweatier, you had to turn the TV off before it freaked you out too much.

You tried to focus on something else, but as your thoughts meandered from the news, they instead drifted back to Peter. The promise you made yourself in the car years ago to never let him make you feel this way again was splintering into cracks, threatening to break altogether. You dug your nails into your palm, leaving crescent marks into your skin. In the back of your mind, you thought of Aunt May. What would she do right now? With that, you got up, making your way to the kitchen for a late-night snack and distraction.

The apartment soon filled with pans clanging, and billowing clouds of flour puffed into the air. Soon, after everything was mixed, you poured the batter into a pan, the bubbling and sizzling wafting to your ears. The chaos of the kitchen almost made you miss a knocking sound. It wasn’t until you heard your name frantically called that you realized it was Peter’s voice. Glancing at the clock, you saw how late it’d gotten. With a sigh, trying not to burn the place down, you called out, “Peter, I don’t really want to talk right now.”

The tapping grew louder, and you realized he was knocking against your window. You looked toward it, seeing a shadowy figure lying against the glass. Quickly removing the pan from the stove and turning it off, you ran to the fire escape. The second you saw through the reflection, your feet stumbled below you, your body coming to an abrupt stop. Fingers wrapped in red and blue pulled the window open before he nearly flopped inside your apartment. A duffle bag fell with him, a pair of high tops tied together around the straps by their shoelaces.

A rush of cold air drifted into the apartment while he laid on the floor, his hands rising up and down on his chest – a chest covered by Spider-Man’s logo. His mask was off, and there was no mistaking that tangled mess of hair. He let out a small laugh, then groaned at movement. “Are you making wheat cakes?”

“Peter… I,” you started, your mouth not keeping up with your racing mind.

“I am starving. Could you bring me some? And maybe some syrup,” he coughed out, lolling his head to the side with deep breaths. Snowflakes that had been resting on him shimmered to the floor when he turned.

“Are you okay?” You winced, your eyes shutting for a moment before saying, “Sorry, dumb question. Should I grab the first aid kit?”

He lifted himself onto his elbow, turning to look at you. “Uh, yeah. That’d probably be a good idea, after bringing some wheat cakes first, though.”

Your legs moved under you to first close the window to keep him warm and safe, then toward the bathroom to grab all the supplies. Your brain simply went through a checklist of everything you desperately needed, leaving no room for questioning what Peter had just unveiled to you. You passed the kitchen on the way back, quickly grabbing a plate of wheat cakes as you sprinted by. Maybe it would help him heal and restore his energy, or maybe you just knew it’d make him happy.

He shoved his bag to the side and crawled up onto the couch, remembering to grab a blanket and put it under him to not damage the couch. With stiff arms, he unclasped the suit top from the bottoms, trying to rid the tight shirt from his body. You came back, setting the kit and plate on the table to help him take it off. He lifted his upper half, letting you slowly pull it up his back and over his head. 

A hard swallow forced itself down your throat as you saw him. Deep purple bruises bloomed all along his body, especially his ribs. A long gash curled from his stomach and around to his lower back. As you let out a shaky breath, Peter asked, “That bad, huh?”

“Well, it’s not great,” you said, your eyes never leaving the wound. “Do you know how to stitch yourself up?”

His eyes looked to yours, weakly blinking. “Yeah, but I’m not sure–”

“Can you teach me? Coach me through it, and I’ll stitch this thing closed for you.” You opened up the kit, so god damn thankful Gwen got one with suturing supplies – encouraged by her police officer father. 

Before doing anything else, you sanitized your hands and grabbed a washcloth, running it under water with a little bit of soap. You brought it back to him, looking at his pained face and wanting to cry. You instead sucked in a breath and said, “I’ll help shift you onto your side. Ready?”

He nodded, digging his teeth into his lip as the two of you maneuvered him on his side to face you, the wound exposed upward to the heavens. You gave him one hand to hold onto yours and began dabbing the washcloth on the wound to clean it out. 

He seethed, every breath in or out sharp and abrupt. “I’m so sorry. I’m almost done with this part,” you told him.

You felt his thumb rub your hand. Your eyes flicked to his for a moment as he repeated, “It’s okay, it’s okay” every time you touched the cloth to his skin.

Blinking a few times, you shook your head. He was comforting you? And he’s Spider-Man? Your mind was reeling, but you just turned back to the first aid kit, pulling away from him. 

Peter pointed to the needle you needed, and you threaded it. With shaking fingers, he pointed to where you should insert the needle, where it should exit, and how to tie off the knot. 

You nodded, trying to memorize every instruction he told you. Still, while staring at the cut and shivering at the thought of the claws that caused it, your movements felt uncertain. You moved the needle toward his skin, but your hands were uneven and unable to keep still. As you closed your eyes and let out a long breath, everything felt like it was crumbling, and it was a Monday night. You couldn’t believe this disaster wasn’t on Tuesday.

“Peter, wait, now I’m not sure. This is insane. You’ve been gored by a lizard man! I don’t have the necessary medical training to heal Spider-Man! I’m going to throw up, or pass out. I’m not sure which. I…”

Your rambling trailed off as you felt Peter’s hand close around yours. He squeezed it and moved it toward the starting stitch. “Look at me,” he rasped. Any weakness he seemed to have disappeared when your eyes connected, a tired smile gracing his face. “I’m right here. You’re doing great.”

“I could accidentally kill you!”

“You’re not going to kill me. Please, just do it quickly,” he pleaded.

You brought your hands away from his, pushing the back of them against your head with your eyes squeezed shut tight. Pounding loud in your chest, your heart thrummed through your whole body, all the way to your vibrating fingers. Tears began to peak at the edges of your eyes as you said, “I shouldn’t be the one doing this. Why not go to Harry? Or May? Oh, I wish she were here. I’m not good enough to do this, Pe–”

His hands grabbed the sides of your face, forcing you to look at him. “I love you.”

Your eyes opened to find him staring at – into – you, no joking or laughing anywhere on his face. Instead of a million thoughts bouncing around in your brain, it settled into nothing as you studied the specks in his warm eyes. You weren’t sure if your heart was speeding up or slowing down as your mouth opened to yell at him for making such a confession at this time, but he brought your hand down to his side and pushed the needle into his skin with a sharp breath.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you repeated with no choice but to stitch him up all the way now.

His body tensed with each pointed stitch, but he kept your mind from twisting itself into a nasty knot again. “Keep going; it’s okay. God, I’m so glad you’re okay.” His gaze was trained on the wall behind you, though you wished he was watching your sutures. He breathed out a long sigh and said, “That day the three of you nearly got hurt downtown when The Lizard attacked… In that split second, I thought you were all going to die, and I wouldn’t be able to save you. Me, the superhero.”

“Peter.”

“I couldn’t let that happen. Not after Uncle Ben,” he sighed, his breaths becoming more ragged. “After that day, I came back here every night to make sure you were alright.”

“Peter. It’s okay,” you told him, eyes trained on his for a second before returning to the injury. “We’re okay.”

You heard him sniffle a bit, and you knew it wasn’t from the stitches. As you tied off the last knot, you examined your work. Though his wound was closed with uneven sutures, it would hold. You whispered, “It’s all done.” 

You disposed of the dirtied supplies, coming back to bandage him with clean hands. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder to lift him into a sitting position, his throat rumbling with a strained groan. You grabbed gauze and spun it around and around his torso, making sure it fit well. 

Collapsing into the couch next to him, you pressed your forehead against his, your body sighing into him. You tried ignoring how warm and hard his chest felt rising up and down against you. “Please tell me that was the worst one.”

He gave a small laugh. “God, I hope that was the worst one.” 

You stood up, ignoring his whine of protest with a pained heart. Searching for clothes, you found a stray shirt and pants to fit him. You grabbed ice packs and water on the way back and syrup for his now-cold wheat cakes. “Okay, arms up,” you ordered, putting his arms and head into the shirt with gentle movements.

“Now let’s get you into something looser than skinny jeans,” you said. You laughed at how tight the suit was, but your laughs quickly turned to grunts as you struggled to peel the pants off of him without hurting him.

After a minute or so, they finally released the poor boy’s legs. You gently moved his lower half this way and that, checking for anything needing immediate attention. In finding nothing but bruises and light scrapes, you helped him into pants that allowed a bit more breathing room.

You laid some ice packs on the most bruised parts of his body, your attention away from his movements. When everything sat in the right place, you looked at his face to find him stuffing his mouth full of room-temperature wheat cakes with no syrup. 

With a full mouth, he said, “These are so good; May taught you well.” He swallowed and motioned his head toward the bag he brought in with him. “Speaking of May, I can’t have her seeing me like this or my roommates. So I shoved some clothes and a toothbrush in a bag. Could I crash here for a couple days? I know Gwen’s gone for the week. Oh, and I forgot toothpaste. Could I borrow some?”

You laughed at his messy mumbling. “How’d you know Gwen was gone? Spider-Man is a stalker, I see,” you teased. “But yes and yes. I can’t believe you packed an overnight bag while bleeding out.”

“I wasn’t bleeding out. ‘Tis but a flesh wound,” he laughed but quickly groaned as the movement pulled at his stitches. “An annoying flesh wound though.”

Shaking your head, you sat on the edge of the couch next to him, letting his body lean into yours. Your fingers came up to brush his sweat-soaked hair out of his face. “Hey Peter…” you said.

He hummed in response around the food. 

“You really should’ve told us about this.”

You weren’t sure you’d ever heard a gulp as audible as his, his head slowly turning to look at you. Grabbing the water from the end table, you gave it to him and watched how he downed the whole thing in one go before setting it on the floor.

He let out a deep breath and said, “I know.” With all his strength, he pushed himself back up to stare eye-to-eye with you. “Though, I really hope you can understand why I didn’t at first.”

You nodded, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. “I do.”

A hand came up to rub across his grimy face. “I was just so mad at the world for what happened to Ben, mad at myself. And by the time I picked my head up out of my ass, you were gone. I’m sorry.”

Bringing him in for a hug, you whispered, “I hope you’ve forgiven yourself, Peter. You deserve it.” You rubbed your hand along his back and felt his head loll against your neck, his mouth letting out a content sigh. “We are absolutely not done with this conversation. Though, we really have to get you to bed.”

You cleaned up everything Spider-Man–related into his bag and lifted him up as well as you could. The laces on his shoes unraveled, the high tops clattering to the floor. You were about to pick them up when Peter sleepily whined, pushing the two of you toward your room. Using enough of your strength to hold him and the bag, you left the shoes and shuffled across the apartment one slow foot at a time. His body wanted to simply fall onto the bed, but you let him down gently and pulled the sheets over him. Making sure he was settled first, you stood up to walk out of the room. 

“Wait,” he said, his voice coming out barely above a whisper. “I’m not letting my best nurse sleep on the couch I bled on. Stay with me,” he pleaded with a hand reaching out toward yours.

A smile grew across your face. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m just going to refill your water,” you told him. 

You threw the dirtied blanket into the washing machine and quickly brought back a full glass, your chest feeling an ache as soon as your bodies were apart. When you came back, you gingerly settled into the bed next to him, careful as to not bump into any of his injuries. He seemed much less caring as he threw a sore arm over your body and pulled you in close. 

“Thank you,” he breathed. “For everything.” 

Finally, after a night that would not let either of you rest, his body relaxed against yours. You were sure being this close to him would freak you out, keeping your mind awake for hours. But feeling his heart beat against your body and his hand rest along your skin– and the life-threatening situation he brought through your window – you quickly grew tired. His breathing deepened, and you whispered a final, “I love you too” before drifting in and out of sleep in his arms. 

                                           *

Normally, it would be your blaring alarm or students talking unnecessarily loud in the hallways, but today, it was the sound of a key clicking into the apartment lock and the door creaking open that your mind was first aware of that morning. You sleepily blinked your eyes open once, ready to pull the covers over your head and stay there forever. It was when Peter’s nose nuzzled into the back of your neck that you shot up in bed.

Gwen was here.

He groaned next to you, mumbling, “What is it?” He sleepily grumbled other words, but you couldn’t make it out as you slapped a hand over his mouth. Your eyes glanced around the room at the various pieces of Peter’s suit and looked over at his body clad in your clothes. With wildly disheveled hair and raised eyebrows, he looked between your hand on his face and your eyes. You couldn’t imagine how you looked or what Gwen would think of Spider-Man or Peter in your bed.

She must’ve heard your guys’ movements because she quietly called your name, and three gentle knocks tapped against your door. Thankfully, Peter had finally caught on and rushed to sit up and grab his things. But as his body stretched, the stitches on his no-longer-forgotten wound pulled against his skin. He shoved his face into his arm, stifling his groan as best as he could. Nearly forgetting about Gwen, you were about to go take care of Peter when she knocked again, her voice drifting through the door. 

“Are you up?”

Peter waved his hand for you to keep moving as he gently flopped back on the bed to breathe for a few seconds. You called out, “Yeah, be right there!” as you threw on a sweatshirt and kicked his suit and anything red or blue under your bed. You straightened out yourself, trying to make yourself look somewhat presentable before looking back at Peter. He had stood up, fingers resting against his injured side while leaning against the wall. 

For a brief moment, you just watched the way sunlight drifted in on his body. His hair flopped almost over his eyes, the warm brown of them feeling like home. He cracked a smile, and you hoped he was thinking about you the same way you thought of him, like as long as he was here, it would be alright. You finally broke from the trance he always had you under when he mouthed, “Go!” while shifting close to your closet, out of the way of the view from the door.

Letting out a quick breath, you brought your hand to the doorknob and inched it open, poking just your top half out. Your eyes squinted at the bright hallway, not that Gwen’s platinum hair and her even whiter smile helped. “Oh, sorry! Did I wake you up?” she asked.

“No, I was just relaxing in bed before starting the day,” you lied. “What are you doing back?”

She rolled her eyes and let out a long groan. “It’s been a real shit show, and a long story. My professor won’t let me take my class online because… I don’t even know why. So I said I’d come back today just for this class before going back home again,” she huffed out and rubbed a hand over her face. “Anyway, he said we need our laptops today, and I forgot my charger. Well, Simon took it out of my backpack without telling me, so… Would I be able to borrow yours for class? I’m sorry, do you need yours at the moment?”

You bit your lip, thinking. “No, my classes aren’t until a bit later. I’ll grab it for you.”

She grabbed your hand that wasn’t tight on the door knob while saying, “Oh, you’re a lifesaver. Thank you!”

Normally, you would just leave the door open, and she’d walk into your room. You slowly nodded, saying with an unsure smile, “Do you mind just staying here for a second? It’s a real mess that you don’t need to look at while I’m searching for the charger.”

Letting out a loud laugh, she said, “Since when do I judge for a slightly messy room? Actually, don’t answer that. But you know I don’t care that much.”

“I’m just a bit embarrassed about it,” you told her, pressing your mouth into a tight line. Your hand stayed on the door, not budging it open even though your heart beat too fast at lying to Gwen.

For a few seconds, her eyes widened and she cocked her head. You were afraid you’d made her worried for your health until a sly smile grew across her face. “Wait a second,” she said, her voice then dropping to a whisper. “Do you have someone in there?” Her voice carried a wave of excitement as she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

Your mouth opened and closed, and again. You looked back into the room, eyes searching for Peter, but he must have stuffed his poor body into the closet. Letting out a sigh, you said in a hushed tone, “Okay, yes. I brought back a guy, but he’s still sleeping.” 

Gwen let out a tiny squeal, “On a Monday night? You jezebel!”

You hushed her with a grin. “Please don’t embarrass me. If this goes well, maybe I’ll even get to introduce him to you guys. Now let me go get my charger!” you laughed out.

Shutting the door, you nearly stumbled back from it toward your desk where your charger would usually be, but it wasn’t there. As you glanced around the room for it, you turned your head at hearing the smallest clearing of the throat. Peter was indeed standing in the closet, but his hand was outstretched, holding your charger for you. He whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

You mouthed, “It’s okay,” before snatching it from him and returning to the door. You cracked it open just a little and said, “Okay, Gwen. Here it is.”

She stood up on her tippy toes, eyes searching for the mystery man inside your room but returned to the heels of her feet with a huff. Grabbing the charger, she pointed a finger at you. “You are telling me everything when I get back from class.”

You promised her you would before waving goodbye and shutting the door, the sound of her steps growing quieter joining your shallow breaths. The weak wood thudded when you dropped your head back against it, your hands rubbing down your face. When you finally looked up again, ready to face the dreary clouds of the situation you’d found yourself in, you instead opened your eyes to see the most beautiful sunshine ever as Peter stepped a few inches from your face. 

His hands wrapped around yours, bringing them to his mouth. Keeping his gaze on you, he kissed each of your knuckles with such tenderness, it made your heart sigh with happiness. “Thank you for that,” he said, letting out an airy laugh.

He brought his forehead down to yours, resting it there as your bodies just swayed together, taking in the moment of being so close to him. He breathed out, “You know, I wasn’t kidding about yesterday.” His throat bobbed with a hard swallow, his chest heaving a bit higher with each inhale as you felt his heart pound a bit faster. “I do love you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to hold his gaze while he laid his heart so open and bare. The moment that had just felt silly and carefree shattered, the broken mirage reminding you of yet another disappointment. With Gwen now gone, you could have talked normally, shouted at him about the way he kept fading away from you, but your voice stayed quiet. “Peter,” you whispered with a shaky breath.

Before your heart got away from you, you forced your body to steel any nerves and look him in the eyes despite your fluttering stomach. Your teeth dug into your lip to keep growing tears at bay. “...Peter, I don’t know if I have another chance in me. I can’t handle the secrets and going days without knowing if you’re even alive.”

You might as well have told him you hated him and would never love him back with the way his face dropped. His throat bobbed as his mouth pressed into a tight line. “I promise there aren’t any more secrets. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, I swear,” he said, begged, as his hands came up to your face.

But you turned your head to avoid his touch. A weak sob broke through your resolve as you said, “You promised before, Peter. I need to know this is different… because we’re different. I can’t risk a broken heart on top of losing you.”

His whole body stilled for just a moment, the air around you two freezing, before his movements exploded. He nodded feverishly, looking around the room for something, anything he could show that he could prove to you. He dug under the bed and grabbed his Spider-Man mask, his fingers gripping hard into the fabric. “I swear, if I start to drift away again or let you think for even a second that you don’t deserve the whole world, I will give it up. I won’t be Spider-Man anymore.”

Your fists balled into themselves. “You can’t do that. These people need Spider-Man. They need you.”

“I don’t care. Not if you don’t need me too.” His words might as well have been hands clasped together in a desperate plea, a prayer for you to take this risk with him. It was when he slowly shifted down onto one knee and then the other, his fingers coming to his side with a soft groan. In a second, he forgot about his injury and reached his arms out wide, offering his entire being to you. “I love you.”

He looked like an angel, his arms spread open like wings being bathed in the morning sunlight behind him. A laughing sort of scoff escaped your mouth, but nothing was funny. His doe eyes stared up at you as he was ready to give up everything just so he wouldn’t disappoint you again. 

Even though your stomach felt uneasy, from nerves or maybe elation, and your thoughts wanted to race, analyze his words and intentions and meaning and, and… you knew one thing without having to think about it. 

“I love you too, Peter.”

He released a breathy laugh, his hands slowly dropping back to his sides. You helped him back up to his feet. His fingers reached for your own as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Against your skin, he mumbled, “Yeah? You mean it?”

You couldn’t control the wide smile growing across your face. “I love you so much, Peter.” Happy, emotional tears pricked at the edges of your eyes, a laugh-cry shaking your shoulders. 

He pulled back, his eyes looking just as watery. “I’d be lost without you,” he said, bringing his hands around to your back, pulling you tight against him. “You were always there for me, guiding me through life like a star since that day in biology. I know I haven’t always been there for you, but I promise that’s done,” he told you.

With a sheepish smile, he said, “Though maybe I should make that promise after this demon lizard is taken care of…” 

For once, as you hugged Peter like you would never let him go again, you believed him. “Like a star, you say?” you asked.

“Yep, the brightest and nicest and most beautiful shining star there is,” he said, nodding against your face.

“You know, I always thought of you as the sun, always lighting up my life whenever you were in it,” you told him. Your breath hitched just a bit as he pressed small kisses against your cheek. “It’s you and me. The sun and the star.”

“I love that. Together, we’re unstoppable. The best couple there is, clearly,” he bragged, making you laugh but also swoon at him already calling you a couple. He continued, “Though the sun is a star, so maybe we need to clarify that to people.”

Your mouth pressed in a tight line, pulling back to look at him. “Peter?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

He mouthed a giggly “sorry.” His nose nudged against you, and the smile ran away from his face as he said, “I’m so sorry for not being there for you. I swear, I’m going to make it up to you every day of my life. Starting now.” 

You were content to let him make it up to you by staying in his embrace for as long as possible, leaving the world outside for a bit. But with his hands still resting at your lower back, his eyes gave an unreadable expression – until they glanced to your lips and back. Shuffling his feet forward, he pressed your bodies even tighter. He brought one hand up to your face, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your cheek, and you couldn’t help but lean into his warm palm, humming.

In barely a whisper of words, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Unable to control the happiness and nerves bubbling in your chest, you instantly breathed out, “Yes, Peter. Please.”

The widest grin you’d ever seen permanently attached itself to Peter’s face as he leaned in, so incredibly slowly. His mouth rested right in front of yours, begging you to make the move. You nearly did, body wound tight enough to lunge forward at him, when you heard the sound of the front door opening and closing again. 

Gwen’s voice carried through the apartment as she said, “Just came back for my water bottle. Be safe, kids!” A loud giggle came from the kitchen, making you laugh as well. But just as you thought she would finally leave, she called your name again.

Letting out a long groan, you brought your forehead against Peter’s before yelling, “Yeah?”

“What are Peter’s shoes doing here?” she called back. Your head shot up, wide eyes staring at Peter, who matched your expression. You had forgotten about the shoes… The two of you opened your mouths, stuttering as you tried to come up with some believable excuse.

But then you heard Gwen let out a deep gasp, and you both flinched at the noise. Your bodies then scrambled when you heard her shoes stomp toward your room, but you locked it right before they stepped in front of the door.

“Unlock this door!” she said while pulling at the handle.

“Gwen, I am not going to open that door. And you have class you don’t want to miss,” you said, chewing on the inside of your mouth, eyes locked on the doorknob.

She eventually stopped trying to break your door down and said, “Fine, but we are so talking about this when I get back.” You agreed, and her steps began to turn away when she called out, “See you later, Peter!”

Before you could do anything, the boy behind you shouted, “Bye Gwen!” You turned on him with wide eyes and your jaw jutting out. Gwen started laughing uncontrollably, making Peter squeeze his eyes shut and clamp a hand over his mouth. Her giggling soon retreated as the front door opened and closed. 

You sighed out, fingers rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Peter…”

He brought his hand from his face, saying, “I know. But they were going to figure it out one way or another. There’s no keeping Gwen from sleuthing.”

You knew he was right but still shook your head. “Yeah, at least we can control when they find out about your secret double life,” you laughed out. “Though now she thinks we slept together and I lied to her about it,” you said, moving to lightly whack his arm, but with quick reflexes, he caught your hand and pulled your body close to his. 

He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “We could sleep together, and then it would be less of a lie. I think,” he said, trailing off and placing your hands behind his neck before letting go.

“I’m not sure that math checks out, bug boy.”

“I am not a bug boy.”

“Either way, webhead,” you said, feathering your fingers through his hair, pressing your body even closer. “How are we supposed to sleep together when we haven’t even kissed yet?” you said, purposely fluttering your eyelashes at him.

He brought his head to yours, his lips right in front of yours again, saying, “You are going to be the death of me, you know that?” His hands moved to the sides of your face, his fingers brushing along the column of your neck. 

In an instant, your mind wanted to run away with every “What if” there was. What if this ruined your friendship? What if this changed everything with Gwen and Harry too? What if he didn’t keep his promise? What if…

As his lips pressed against yours, it all went silent, your heart soaring through the air, ready to take this leap of faith with him. And God, you finally wanted to. His arms held on tight to your body, like having an inch between your bodies would let you disappear. You got lost in his soft mouth and the daze he put you under until he deepened the kiss, pushing the air from your lungs, and you could have sworn your legs were working a second ago. Thank goodness his hands moved toward your hips, his palms snaking around to hold your weight. A yelp squeaked from your mouth as his fingers pressed into your flesh and hoisted you into the air. 

You held onto him, his muscles tight against your body as he flopped back onto your bed, your body on top of his. You laughed against his lips, “You were just on your knees moaning and groaning about your injury. Now you’re all fine to lift me like it’s nothing?”

He smiled up at you, and you knew that you wanted to see that lovestruck grin on his face every day. “I was being dramatic to make you feel bad for me. Did it work, sweetheart?”

The way his mouth curled around the word sweetheart maybe should have sounded suggestive, but it brushed over your skin with such tenderness, wrapping you in with its softness. You leaned your head down to his, watching the way he stared at your lips. Finally giving in, you laid against him, kissing again and again and again, your heart not quite believing this wasn’t a dream.

You pulled away, breaths mingling together and resting your head against his cheek. You blinked your eyes open and cocked your head slightly to the side. “Hey, Peter.”

His eyes were still gently closed and his face nuzzling into yours, unable to bear being apart from your mouth for long. Against your lips, he muttered, “Hmm?”

Your hands came to his jaw, your thumb rubbing along the bone in smooth waves. “What day is it?”

He took a second to think, like his mind was anywhere but what god damn day it was when you were right here. His brain caught up after a moment, him mumbling, “Uh, Tuesday, I think.”

His eyes finally opened, staring into yours like it was the last thing he’d ever see, the one thing keeping him alive. Every blink he took, missing your face for even a heartbeat, was a shock to his body he never wanted to feel again. And he wouldn’t have to. A grin grew on your face, and you knew it was no match for the breath of fresh air, the sunshine of his smile. Smiling like he used every bit of his heart to do. 

You quietly thanked the universe for working in these wonderfully mysterious ways. As you brought his face back to yours, you couldn’t wait to spend every Tuesday and the rest of your life with Peter.

@enaraism​