#it's literally been almost a week since it happened and i'm still reeling

[melanieph321]

Okay hear me out: what about ruben’s girlfriend losing her memory temporarily, and ruben literally leaves everything to take care of her. He asks some time away from football to help her on her recovery journey, and he would make her one of his usual breakfasts, full of nutrients and he would help her exercice slowly and would help her remember little things at a time, and he would just do everything for her well being 🥺

THIS IS THE ONE, MY 100TH RUBEN FIC! 🥳🥳❤️❤️❤️🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳❤️🥳❤️🥳❤️🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

Love the many requests I've received, I have stories for days now 😅. But in honor of my 100th Ruben Dias fic I have written a 8 part series based on this request. Hope you enjoy!

Ruben Dias x Reader - Remember You and Me Part 1/8

Enjoy!

You slowly opened your eyes, groggily taking in your surroundings. You were in a hospital room, surrounded by your family and a man you had never seen before. The man, who you assumed was a nurse, was holding your hand and smiling at you.

"Hello, honey. Welcome back" your mother said warmly.

"What's going on." You grunted. The pain hit you all at once as you tried to sit up.

"What hurts the most?" Your mother was quick to pat you down, not wanting you to over extend yourself.

"My neck." You said and reached up to touch the brace that covered your throat.

"The doctors say you have to wear it for a couple of weeks. You were in a terrible car accident that almost left you paralyzied head down."

"What?" You tried to sit up again but squirmed as the pain hit.

"Careful." Said the male nurse, still holding your hand in his. "I know this isn't easy for you to hear Y/N," He said. "but the truth is that you've been in a coma for the last four days. You've had multiple injuries on your spine, ribs and if it wasn't for the doctors deciding to put you in a sedative state your brain would still be swelling."

Your brain swelled with all the information you were given. "I want to go home." You said. You hated the smell of hospitals and always have.

"I know honey, I know." Your mom stroked your head. "But I'm afraid it won't be that easy."

"Why not?" You looked around the room, meeting the faces of your family. They all carried the same expression of sadness and concern for you.

"What's going on?" You said through the tubes plugged in your nose.

"Honey..." Your mother tried to break it to you easily. "You don't live with us anymore, you haven't done so in the past five years."

"Um, what?"

"Honey, what is your last memory? How old do you think you are?"

"Mom what are you...I'm nineteen years old and I live with you, dad and Eddie. Why are you asking me these stupid questions? Why am I in the hospital, what happened to me?"

You were getting quite worked up, however your mother was patient. "Y/N, the doctors suspect a temporary memory loss as a result of your severe head trauma. You are not nineteen years old but twenty four years old. And you don't live with your father and I, you live in England with your husband, Ruben."

Your mother pointed to the nurse standing next to your bed, his hand still intertwined with yours.

"My what?" Your eyes widened in confusion. Husband? You had no memory of getting married. In fact, you had no memory of anything that had happened since you were a teenager. "What do you mean?" You asked, voice shaking. "I don't remember getting married."

The nurse smile faltered for a moment, but then he took a deep breath and explained. "You were in a terrible car accident a few days ago. And in a coma ever since this morning, when you finally woke up, not remembering anything. We've been trying to help you remember, but it's been a slow process."

Your mind was reeling. You had no memory of your childhood, your friends, your job, or anything else. It was as if your entire life had been erased.

"Mommy." You cried, letting go of the nurse/your husband's hand. "I want to go home, take me home right now."

"I know sweetie, I know." She brought you in for a hug, a tight and safe mommy hug. "The doctors say that your memory loss is only temporary, that it will come to you naturally as you go on with your daily life."

"Okay, so I'm free to leave the hospital then?"

"Yes, the sooner the better. However you have to leave with Ruben not us."

"What? I can't go live with him, he's a stranger I don't even know him."

The man's eyes widened in suprise, his expression unreadable.

"Yes, you do honey." Your mother was determined. "Ruben is your husband and you must stay with him. We will be here through your recovery, every step of the way. But for your memory to return to you naturally you must go back to living your old life, the life you spent together with Ruben, your husband."

[yellowocaballero]

Anyway.

How many works do you have on AO3? 54. Hm. I don't remember writing 54 fics. That's weird. But I've been posting since 2017 so when you THINK about it 54 fics over 7 years isn't weird at all.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 2.4 million. What's your point.

What fandoms do you write for? A fuckton. I write both things I'm hyperfixated on and for random shit that comes in my head. I was into TMA for like two years so I have the most TMA fic (16), but most of my fandoms are 3-5 fics maximum. There's also a lot of random-ass fics for random-ass fandoms that just jumped in my head. Artemis Fowl, Beetlejuice, Animorphs...demons that overtook me for two weeks or so and never bothered me again.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? The Great Gender Heist (Artemis Fowl, no surprise there.), stay out of trouble (Detroit: Become Human, I reliably forget that one exists and I'm still mystefied as to why so many people read it), meek shall inherit (I'm constantly attempting to forget the Be More Chill phase ever happened), someone will remember us (Batman, fic's not great, am still very fond of that au) and dead or alive (DBH, mediocre). Why the hell are the two Detroit: Become Human fics so popular? I hate DBH so much. I was so angry while writing those.

Do you respond to comments? I am absolutely terrible about responding to comments. I am sorry. I do read and appreciate all of them. It's because I always need to give a dialectical so comments take ages to write. If you do want to hear my thoughts on something, my inbox is your best bet for a way too lengthy response.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hope, Etc for certain. I try really hard to write bittersweet at worst endings, and even the sad endings in my fics have hope in them. Hope, Etc definitely ends in a better place than where it began. But it's still very sad. I was thinking about a lot of lost loved ones while writing it. Fishhooks and reel to reel also have downer endings but that is because they are LITERALLY Star Wars.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Uhhhh. The ending of Solitaire (and the MLM/WLW hostility series in general) is very sweet. It's meaningful because it demonstrates so much growth from everybody with very little cost. I almost said Go Straight At The Cul De Sac, because it showcases a happier world where horrible historical events were averted, but the ending will always be a little bittersweet because we understand how much Protag sacrificed to create that better world.

Do you get hate on fics? Sometimes people are kind of weird. The worst of it is usually just useless comments, though. I had somebody get pedantic about how briefly mentioning an SUV would be historically inaccurate, and how I should have mentioned a minivan instead - like, did you read that fic and think I was from the suburbs? Do I look like I know what a minivan is? Lol? If I've received any actual more severe stuff I have no idea, since I delete the comment and delete it from my memory. I've never gotten anything too bad. I've been called ablest like three times, which is objectively hilarious.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? If I could write smut I'd be making bank on Kindle Unlimited right now.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Probably the FE3H/BNHA one I'm writing right now that will never see the light of day. Just kidding. I don't actually think I've posted any real crossovers - I DO write them, I just kind of feel like they're cringe so I never post them. I write a lot of cringe shit that never sees the light of day.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not nearly popular enough for that.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Several people have mentioned wanting to do that, but nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not technically. But I do want to give due honors to all of the friends who are SO instrumental in the building of the AUs, stories, characters, etc, that they've had a huge impact on the story itself. I try to recognize them by name in the fics themselves but my stories would look completely different if it wasn't for my friends. Definitely much worse.

What’s your all time favorite ship? I'll differentiate favorite ships and favorite fictional romances. For ships, it's much less about the ship and more about the role in the story. I tend not to pay a lot of attention to that while writing, but sometimes I get lost in my own sauce and I drive myself a bit nuts. I am very fond of Hanyookim, especially in my own ORV story. For romances? My top ten list of fictional romances is as follows: number one: naturally, Sasunaru -

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? If it's up on AO3, it's done (with one or two very small exceptions - The Ending of Han Sooyoung epilogue I'll get to you I PROMISE). There's plenty of unfinished docs on my drive that I'll never finish, but that's because I decided that they weren't worth finishing.

What are your writing strengths? Dialogue and characterization. That's always been the case. I'm also pretty funny.

What are your writing weaknesses? Plotting. Action. Having stories that are not entirely dialogue. Where things happen and it's more than just people walking around talking. You know. Real stories -

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Always valid. I remember reading one Hispanic author talking about how he doesn't like italicizing the Spanish in his stories because it's otherizing, and I agreed enough with him that I don't tend to italicize other languages either. Sometimes I do. I try to do it purposefully, and to convey something that can only be conveyed through the extra language. I'll also only do it if I can have a friend who speaks that language write it out for me, since gtranslate sucks and I want to ask the friend how such a thing would actually be said and colloquialize it. I like using ASL in fics, and I am just in general begging people to a) write it like any other language, and b) understand that it's different from other languages and can't be written exactly the same. If your Star Wars fanfiction has so much gratuitous Mando'a that I can't understand anything the clones or Mandos are saying I hate you.

First fandom you wrote for? Batman Beyond. Yes, I have a FFN account somewhere. Yes, I was eleven. Yes, it was Batman Beyond.

Favorite fic you’ve written? The best thing I've written is Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge. Favorite is New Wave. That sucker took two years to write (INSANELY long for me) and it is exactly the story I wanted to write. Stephanie's a character I've been writing since I was 15, and the feeling of writing Stephanie and NAILING her for the very first time was so satisfying.

Tagging @usaigi and uh any other writer mutuals you all know who you are.

[dogfags]

for the past couple weeks I have tried multiple times to sort out this kind of. thought cloud I'm stuck in. but I can't properly journal out my feelings bc I can't exactly put words to them. I keep trying to get my feelings out with words and it's impossible. so I resort to trying to organize them in pinterest boards and playlists bc those things are more abstract but still help me think through stuff. but even there I'm sort of at a loss. I guess I am coming up on a sense of self for perhaps the first time in my life? and it is so strange and foreign to me that I'm having a hard time. putting it together. for sure it'll take more time. but holy shit it just feels like I am having all these like. epiphones about myself idk how to spell that word whatever. it feels like I'm getting closer and closer to a sense of self. which I have never ever had in my life before. I have always felt like a weird amalgamation of traumas and I have these identity crises every other month wherein I try to reinvent myself and become someone new. and in so doing I have completely just. erased any kind of sense of identity I could have had bc I'm constantly just changing it so nothing I am ever feels permanent. every trait is just temporary and mutable. but last summer, almost a year ago I was finally diagnosed with bipolar disorder and put on mood stabilizers. and after 3 months I started having these like... come back to earth moments where I'd finally be like wait, this isn't me, this isn't what I want. and I'd change it. and slowly I've been doing that with different parts of myself and my life. and then it all kind of came to a head when my ex cheated on me and we broke up and they were gunna attempt suicide and the gun and the hospital and just all of that SHIT happened and then I very suddenly decided to move out bc I couldn't live like that anymore. and then I started seeing my now bf more and more.. and just like wow. it's crazy how drastically my life has changed in a couple months. I mean in January I was in a shitty relationship I didn't see going anywhere with a loser who treated me like shit. I was living with this person and my old roommate and not doing much of anything for enjoyment except scrolling mindlessly through Instagram reels. I used to go to punk shows all the time and one of my epiphones (literally how do you spell that) was that I didn't actually enjoy going to shows that much and the people there weren't really my crowd and I don't want to drink or smoke or any of that. so I stopped going to shows but I never replaced it with something to do enjoy doing. but now... since I left that house and went no contact with my ex and sort of distanced myself from that whole friend group I have been more capable than ever of like, finding myself and who I am and who I want to be. I moved out completely within a week of deciding to do so for my mental health and even though I'm still working these 65 hour weeks and YES my job sucks and makes me wanna die I am still so much less stressed and I am not in literal agony. I used to be so confused with who I am. I used to struggle so hard to see myself as a human being. I was in a near constant state of dissociation due to the horrible trauma I've been through + my dysphoria + bipolar disorder + shitty relationships. Its like I'm waking up now. I keep having these moments where I pause for a moment in reality and I'm like holy shit I'm HERE like I'm alive and I'm present and i am experiencing this moment in this moment. it's just wild to me. i think this is a real turning point in my life. like fr a brand new chapter. a fresh start to everything. I left so much behind and for a while it left me feeling like an empty husk but now I am just starting to see the new little sprouts of life in myself. I'm not having an identity crisis I'm having an identity rebirth.

[ladyreadalot]

hey guys! I'm kind of vague-posting here, but I'm getting really frustrated with a particular side of fandom right now. And by "really frustrated", I mean actually wanting to ban them from AO3 and every other fandom-related website (which is literally impossible but MAN do i want to try).

A fanfic author I greatly respect has recently decided to remove all of their fics from AO3, due to what seems like fan harassment. I won't share their name out of respect for their privacy, but if you're in the PJO or Merlin fandoms, it's highly likely you know who I'm talking about.

They haven't been very clear about the exact reasoning behind their sudden departure, but from what I can piece together from what they have said, a fan recently tracked them down/found them irl and harassed them. Apparently it's not just one person either, since apparently multiple people got a hold of their personal email and began sending them mail.

This side of fandom is not okay. Harassing creators-- even out of love!! even kindly!! even if it's just you wanting to let them know how much you appreciate their work!!-- is never okay. Comments and kudos on AO3 are VERY different than finding someone's email or finding them irl to tell them that. Many creators want to keep their fanfic-writing-lives and their irl-lives totally separate, and that's their call!

I know that you love their writing, because we all did. But invading the privacy of creators to the point where they no longer feel safe inhabiting a space designed to allow users to anonymously share stories without irl repercussions??? That's crossing a line. And I feel like this sort of harassment is becoming more and more common in fandom.

It's frustrating and annoying and it's leading creators to find fandom less and less of a safe place. Stop it. Seriously. I know that you've read and kudos-ed and commented on their every fic, but that doesn't make you the author's friend, and while I'm sure they still appreciate you, there is a boundary in place. Respect it!!

[imthebadguyyy]

Temporary Fix (II)

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Fandom - F1

Summary - You're the only female F1 driver, and you're damn good at your job. Oh, and you also have a friends with benefits relationship with a certain 7x World Champion - continued

Part 2 to this ♥︎

a/n - guess who finally got to writing this ?! may have a third part depending on how long i make this one ✨

"i think i'm in love with you"

Those seven words had changed your life completely. In a matter of seconds, your world had come to a halt, heart racing against your chest, the shock of the words that had just left lewis's lips making you freeze in your spot next to him, eyes squeezing shut as your mind ran two hundred miles an hour.

Was this really happening? Was the man you had been in love with for longer than you would've cared to admit really admitting that he loved you back?

Before you knew it, your body was responding quicker than your brain, which was currently suffering from a little shortage of circulation, and you were standing up, chest rising and falling rapidly as you scrambled to find your clothes, trying to ignore the look of surprise and hurt in lewis's eyes as you scrambled, looking over your shoulder to whisper a quick "i'm sorry" feeling the crushing pain weigh down on your chest as your eyes prickled.

Letting the door slam shut, you practically ran to your own room, which was a task in itself, your vision so heavily clouded with tears you could barely see, a harsh sob escaping your lips. You had messed everything up, and it hurt more than you could even beginning to comprehend.

Letting the soft material of the blankets devour your shaking form, you let your eyes shut, the tiredness from your previous rendezvous and the pain from lewis's confession finally catching up to you

☾⑁✧✡︎♡

Back in his room, Lewis was still reeling from the shock of what had just happened. "you fucking dumbass, you fucked everything up" was the mantra playing in his head, as he gripped his hair roughly.

It hurt, it hurt so much. You had quite literally run away from him, right after he had confessed his love for you. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he felt the tears burn his eyes, as he forced himself off of the bed, fingers grabbing the sheets roughly, yanking them off the bed, trying his hardest to remove the traces of you that still lingered in the room, trying to block out the pain that was filling his chest.

Throwing the sheets onto the floor, he stormed over to the couch, sinking down onto the soft couch with his head in his hands. There was no way in hell that he was going to sleep on the bed tonight, not when your body had lain there a few minutes ago, your skin had been pressed right against his, your fingers had run over his chest, tracing his tattoos, while he had played with your hair.

He could barely stand to be in the very room he was in, not when he had fucked you in the very same room. It was too painful, and he couldn't help the groan that left his lips, eyes filling with tears once again, as he blinked them away furiously, letting the exhaustion lull him away to sleep.

☾⑁✧✡︎♡

It had been nearly two weeks since the unfortunate incident. Two weeks of pain, longing, and crying had taken a visible toll on the both of you. Even though no one in the paddock knew that the both of you had been seeing each other, there was a tension in the air around you, everyone in the mercedes garage could feel it. Hell, even the other drivers could see it.

A concerned Daniel had made his way over to Lewis, spotting the man looking your way, hesitating, and walking away. Even though the mclaren driver was later assured by his friend that he was alright, it was hard to ignore how much quieter and almost sadder the both of you had become. A very confused Seb had walked in on you crying in your motorhome, the door open enough for him to hear your heartbreaking sobs echoing in the little mobile home. After knocking softly, he had walked in and enveloped you in a hug, letting you sob your heart out on his shoulder, before he asked you very gently, "what happened? you want to talk about it?"

When you politely rejected and stood up to go wash your face before leaving together, he caught sight of a very familiar purple hoodie stuffed in the corner of your armchair. Seb, being Seb, didn't take longer than two seconds to put two and two together, but out of respect for your privacy, he merely resorted to having an internal revelation instead of bombarding you with questions, making up his mind to talk to a certain seven time world champion later.

☾⑁✧✡︎♡

Team meetings were awkward as well. Earlier, it took a miracle to get the two of you to stop talking. Now it took a miracle to get the either of you to look at each other. But for the sake of the championship, you remained civil, feeling the stabbing pain in your chest increase when your hands would gently brush against his, or his warm, chocolate eyes would look briefly into yours, the pain reflected in his making the guilt you already felt surge through your veins.

God, sometimes you just wanted to grab his stupidly handsome face and kiss him till your lips lost all feeling. But the man could barely hold eye contact with you, let alone kiss you.

Lewis was facing a similar dilemma, unable to look at you, but desperately wanting to feel you, to kiss you, to hug you. It was unfair, he thought, how good you looked every single day. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel guilty himself, for dropping a bomb like that onto you without any warnings. Hell, he would've probably freaked out too.

Poor roscoe had been subjected to multiple rants from his dad, but all he could understand was that you weren't a regular visitor and his dad was sad, Plus, he missed the fact that you always snuck him some fruit when you ate.

☾⑁✧✡︎♡

Walking with his hands in his pockets, lewis made his way along the corridor of the mercedes hospitality, so lost in his own thoughts, he didn't notice when he collided into a softer, warmer body.

The person he bumped into latched onto his body, their phone falling to the floor, as a soft gasp left their lips. Just as the beginning's of his "i'm so sorry" began to leave his lips, he registered who the person was - you.

You had simply been minding your own business, scrolling through your instagram, when someone had walked into you, causing your phone to fall. Gripping tightly onto the muscular form, you couldn't help the gasp that left your lips, before you looked up to see who it was - lewis.

He looked stunning. But then again, he always did. You hadn't been this close in proximity to him in more than fourteen days, and to feel his warm skim pressed against yours was oh so calming, and filled you with such longing it physically hurt you.

Letting your hands drop to his chest, before dropping them to your sides, you took a step back, taking in the sight in front of you.

Still slightly reeling from the encounter, lewis stepped back, taking in your form.

It had been a while since he'd seen you so close to him, and god, feeling you against his body felt so fucking right. You looked good, you always did. Maybe it was the effect of not seeing you for so long that was clouding his senses, filling him with an intense need, just a need for you. It was almost scary, how addicting you were.

It was like a drug, whatever it was the both of you had going on. Intoxicating him, filling his senses and clouding his judgement.

Before he knew it, he was dragging you into toto's office, letting the door shut behind the both of you. The advantage of toto's office was that the door's weren't see through, like the other rooms in the hospitality, something you were grateful for, because you didn't want all the mercedes staff to see or hear the both of you.

Turning to rest against the wooden desk, you couldn't lift your head to meet his eyes, you couldn't. Not when you had hurt him so bad, not when you had run out on him.

"Well, darling, how've you been?" lewis asked, sarcasm dripping when he called you the very nickname he usually called you when he fucked you into the mattress of whichever you bed you two were fucking on

"Don't" was all you could whisper, the exhaustion of the past weeks finally catching up with you, as you let the table support your weight, too tired and guilty to carry on the conversation.

"Don't what? Don't ask you why you left after i told you i loved you? don't ask why you didn't text, call, hell didn't even bother giving me an answer?" he practically spat out, disguising the hurt in his heart with anger, hating himself with every word that left his lips as he watched your tired body hang its head lower with every anger laced word that left his lips

"I know, i should have said something-"

"Yeah you should have! something, anything! A yes, a no, even if you don't love me back, you should have told me that, instead of abandoning me in that fucking room. I deserve atleast that" he managed to say, almost yelling, fighting back tears as he watched your bottom lip tremble and your knuckles whiten due to how hard you were gripping the table.

'You think i don't know that lewis?! Do you really think i'm that fucking heartless?! it broke me too, leaving you alone like that, and i'm sorry i didn't talk to you-"

"why didnt you? was that too much to ask for, a decent reply to a confession of love?" he continued on, interrupting your speech mid flow, talking so loudly now, you were sure the people on the same floor, heck, even the ones below you had definitely heard the both of you.

"Because i fucking love you too, and it scares the hell out of me!" you finally yelled, the tears finally breaking free, running down your cheeks as the pain of the words leaving your chest seemed to relieve you of the burden you had been carrying for so long - you did love him.

"Look, i know that doesn't excuse me basically leaving you on real life read for two weeks, but you have to understand, i was fucking terrified. You're lewis-fucking-hamilton, and the mere fact that we were sleeping together was scary enough, but the thought of loving you? its terrifying. I'm afraid im not good enough, i probably never will be, and its really hard to deal with. Everyone knows you, they recognize you, you're such a good person and i-"

Your words were cut off when a pair of warm lips pressed against yours, forcing you to grip onto his shoulders, one hand finding stability on the solid desk you were resting against, as you kissed back with a desperate fervour, the feeling of having lewis's lips on yours leaving you feeling almost drunk, relishing in the feeling of closeness.

you gently broke the kiss, the desperate need for oxygen leaving you panting. "what the hell is wrong with you baby, hmm? you're not good enough for me? that's the biggest load of bull i've ever heard. You're absolutely perfect, and the last thing you need to worry about is being enough for me" he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Ducking downwards, he pressed his lips back to yours, sliding his hands up into your hair, pulling the hair tie down, letting your hair down, tugging somewhat harshly, forcing your mouth open, as your tongues battled for dominance, before you eventually let him take control, letting your hands trace up his chest, gripping harshly onto his shirt, a newfound desperation rising in your chest.

You needed him, just as much as he needed you.

"God, i forgot how fucking gorgeous you are" he mumbled hungrily against your lips, hands reaching down to tug your shirt off of your body. "Lewis, we can't... not here" you moaned, when his lips moved to your neck, kissing your neck roughly, sucking a dark hickey onto your skin

"Why not? its not like toto's coming back anytime soon, and i cannot wait to go back to my driver's room"

"Okay" you moaned back, tilting your head back, allowing him more access to your neck, the thrill of his beard rubbing against your neck sending shockwaves to your centre.

Panting heavily, you helped lewis shed his shirt, running your hands over his tattoos, oh how you had missed tracing them after a particularly tiring night, while his hands found home on your hips, lips pressed to your head as he drifted off to sleep

You should have known in those little moments, in spain, in monaco, in belgium, in imola. Nights spent discovering what made the other tick, what the other enjoyed. It was all paying off now, as you let your hands trace his compass tattoo (yes i have an obsession for that tattoo i will not be taking questions) as his lips wandered lower, latching onto your nipple, sucking with a feverish fervour, tugging the material of your jeans down your legs, as you unbuckled the belt he was wearing, letting his pants drop to the floor too, before he moved all the things from the desk with one sweep of his arm, propping you up onto the desk.

Sinking down onto his knees, he spread your legs apart so that he could stand as close to you as possible. You could feel his rock hard cock brush against the inside of your thigh, wetness immediately pooling at your core as you pulled him even further into you, feeling each and every curve and inch of his body against you, and your heart warmed at the feeling of proximity.

A curse of approval left his lips at the sight of your breasts heaving and falling, taking in the marks he had scattered across your chest, his eyes never once leaving you as he devoured the image of you, feeling his own painful arousal grow.

You let your hands linger across his bulge, a wave of pleasure immediately filling you at the animalistic groan that left his lips. You trailed your fingers across the waistband of his boxers and when he didn’t make a move to stop you, you let your fingers slip inside and wrapped them around his cock.

Gathering the precum at the tip, your hands trailed upwards, nails gently scratching upwards, movements inceasing harshly as his breathing matched your movements. “I think it’s a little bit unfair that i'm the only one who's feeling this good baby”

You smirked at him, nodding feverishly when he traced up your thigh, letting his fingers slip through your dripping folds . You gasped, the pleasure coursing through your veins, making it hard to focus on your own movements, halting slightly when he circled your clit with his thumb at the very same moment he let a finger slip into you.

“Does that feel good?” he hummed, kissing down your neck once you let your head drop onto his shoulder.

You couldn’t talk, the pleasure overwhelming your senses, silent moans leaving your mouth at his skilled fingers. “Fuck Lewis!” you moaned, accidentally squeezing him a bit harder, causing a moan to leave his own lips.

“Fuck, i never told you how much i love it when you moan my name” he admitted. You couldn't help the blush that coated your cheeks, gasping when he pulled his fingers away from you ,only to bring them to his own mouth, eyes rolling back when he sucked on his own fingers, cleaning them of your juices.

Moaning at the sight, you increased your movements, before lewis removed your hand from his cock, meeting your lips in a desperate kiss.

“Say you want me darling” He growled, grabbing a hold of your neck, pulling you even closer into him, murmuring against your lips. You moaned into his mouth, gasping when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass. Wetness continued to pool at your core, the little noises he was letting out taking you to new realms of pleasure.

“I want you, Lewis.”

"Say that again"

"I want you, Lewis"

"Fuck baby, one more time"

"Please, just fuck me!"

Groaning at the high pitched moan that left your lips, he pushed you further back onto the desk, hand tightening around your throat, pushing your head down to rest on desk under you while the other interlaced with your own.

"You're mine tonight darling, and i'm never going to let that change. I love you" he mumbled against your lips, taking in your quivering form.

"I love you too, so much" you gasped out.

You shut your eyes, anticipation rising, waiting for him to enter you. “Look at me darling.” He said, forcing you to look at his cock, looking back at you. “Look at what you always do to me.” Not averting his eyes, he pushed himself into you, smirking at the strangled moan that left your lips at his size giving you a second to adjust before beginning to move. “Such a good girl for me love, now come on and spread your legs even wider for me darling"

You nodded, pulling him closer as you did, letting out a moan at how full you were feeling. It was a feeling you had missed so much. It was like being home, as you let out a groan at how good he felt in you again. “Fuck, Lewis, i've missed you so fucking much” You groaned

“I've missed you even more my love ” he groaned, thrusting into you and watching your tits bounce up and down, "God you're just a fucking goddess"

You bit hard on his shoulder, not wanting any poor mercedes member to accidentally become audience to an unwanted show, as he squeezed your throat harder,“Keep moaning my name baby, i don't care who hears us Don’t get quiet on me now, i've waited way too long to hear those pretty little moans"

Suddenly remembering his praise kink, you smirked to yourself, before letting your nails scratch down his back, before muttering to him "No one's ever fucked me this good, God, i've missed you so much. You fuck me so well baby"

The soft string of profanities that left his lips had the both of you moaning, as he squeezed your throat even harder, cutting your airflow off slightly.

His other hand moved down to your clit, beginning to squeeze and rub the sensitive bud in between his fingers.

You clenched on him, watching as his head fell back “Fuck, keep doing that baby" you groaned. Clenching down on him again, you felt your heart flutter at his moans. You could feel the knot begin to build in your stomach and you knew you were gonna cum soon

“Gonna cum on my cock darling?" he asked, watching as you nodded. “Yeah?Can you do that for me?" You squeezed the hand on your throat, enjoying the pressure, scratching harder down his back, which only encouraged his assault on your clit. "Be a good girl for me baby, cum on my cock"

The string of profanities that left your mouth, mixed with moans of his name had lewis groaning against you, feeling his own orgasms close down on him, as you felt the knot of pleasure in your tummy release, your legs shaking around his waist as you came,.

The feeling of you clenching and spasming on his cock had the desired effect, as he dropped his head down to your chest, before he came, kissing your neck as he came, your fingers tracing his back as he did.

Panting heavily, the both of you sank down onto the desk again, as Lewis wrapped you in a warm embrace.

"Roscoe missed you" he mumbled, pressing his lips to your head.

"Aww, i missed him too. But um, we may have some explaining to do'

"To whom?" he replied, post sex mind clouded enough to forget where he had just fucked you.

"To Toto you dumbass" you said fondly, running your fingers through his hair. "Oh yeah, that" he groaned.

"I mean, everyone's gonna be pretty happy anyway, they've been wanting us to get together since, well, my McLaren days" Lewis said after a few seconds silence,

"Please, i remember it so well, when we went to Seb's championship party, someone asked me if we were dating and i got so surprised i spilled my drink all over my dress"

Laughing, he pulled you off of the desk, helping you get back into your clothes.

Capturing your lips in yet another heated kiss, you let yourself get lost in him once again, feeling the absolute warmth and love radiating from him being reflected by your own being.

So busy you were, getting lost in each others lips once again, you missed the sound of the door opening, followed by a loud exclamation of -

"oh nein, du hast besser nicht getan, was ich denke, du hast es getan!"

☾⑁✧✡︎♡

a/n - so i finally finished this!! lowkey considering a part three, lemme know what you guys think! thank you so much for reading, and as always, feedback and comments are always appreciated !! ♥︎

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 2)

[Donnie x fem reader]

Sfw, part 1 here

Intellectually, Donnie was the best matchup for their leader as today was sparring day. He'd gone against his oldest brother many times, sometimes even coming out the victor himself, but today was just not his day.

He held his staff with that iron grip of his and waited for Leo to come at him. Donnie was more on the defensive than any of his brothers; he had to be. Out of all he was weakest physically but superior in calculations, but he was missing range in this matchup. Leo had a hard time disarming him as his katana could sometimes get lodged in the solid wood staff, giving Donnie leverage to perform the finisher in the short time it took him to dislodge his sword. He thought this time would be how that would happen.

"You're slow today, Donnie," Leo said as he lunged at his brother with a swing of his katana, forcing Donnie to step back. He was too focused on blocking Leo's rapid succession of attacks to respond.

Leo reeled back to swing his blade again but Donnie parried and struck his arm with his staff, shoving it aside. For a split second, Leo actually thought he was fixing to go down by this move if Donnie could hit him again quick enough. But his brother hesitated in thought, and without any reluctance himself, he used his other katana to put him in a compromising position. The match was over and Donnie was forced to stand down.

"Why did you hesitate?" Leo questioned him, lowering his blade. Raph watched from the sidelines with Mikey as they prepared to go up next. Since Leo was the winner, it was Raph's turn next to spar in his younger brother's place.

Donnie huffed and dropped his stance, putting his staff away. "It's just an off day," he replied. Splinter wasn't there to dictate today's training session and tournament, so Donnie was already on his way out to go to his lab by the time Raph stepped up to spar. But Leo sheathed his sword and put a hand on Donnie's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"You've been pretty eager to run back to your lab lately," Leo said matter-of-factly. He was wondering what was going on, why Donnie seemed weirdly distant the last couple of weeks. He had gone through a very withdrawn phase in earlier times upon entering his teenage years, but now, he was legitimately making everyone guess. He didn't snap at his brothers, and he wasn't any more impatient than usual. But something was different. He'd been spending a lot more time holed up in his lab, which everyone began to notice. Leo wanted to know what was wrong.

Donnie shifted and shrugged, "Like I said, I've been busy with some projects. Also, it's not like I have much to do out here beside training and patrol."

Leo opened his mouth to speak, but Mikey jumped on between them. "You missed game night last week! You never miss it," he butted in. Both Donnie and Leo gave him a look as if to say really? and he added in, "Well, uh...not usually."

Gently moving Mikey aside, Leo wanted to continue, but he saw Donnie staring at him expecting a follow-up when he didn't really have one. Whatever this was, Leo knew that coming at Donnie with questions was not the way to go about it. So he stepped back and gave his brother some space.

"We all have off days," Leo said finally after an awkward moment of silence. "Just work on your speed, Don."

"Got it."

With that, Donnie turned to leave, and Raph entered the ring to go against Leo in the last match of the night.

Once Donnie was gone, Leo got ready to spar with Raph. As they got into position, he contemplated bringing this recent development up with the other two, but decided against it in the end. He didn't want to incriminate Donnie, especially with Raph's assertive approach to handling things. Donnie could be somewhat flighty at times when it came to resolving matters of emotion, at times a little too introspective, but Leo couldn't fault him—he had his own struggles with that very thing, too.

Done, finally, Donnie thought as he skirted into his lab and started up the game. He was late to the party quite literally; training lasted longer than he'd thought, and he was disappointed to see that his newest friend was online, but not responding to his invite. Did everyone get together and play without him? After a few minutes, he almost decided on giving up. The instance made him contemplate whether he even wanted to continue this. Perhaps he'd been too eager.

He sighed. And then the menu pinged, and he was there reading the message in an instant.

Hey, sorry I partied up without you, I just didn't know if you were gonna be on or not :/

Without even thinking, he licked his lips typed back, repeatedly deleting and retyping his message to make sure it was casual but not too casual, apologetic but not desperate—

It's okay, don't worry about it

Likewise sorry it took me so long to get here.

That would do. He'd be lying to say he wasn't feeling that flutter in his stomach; the excitement of something new got to him in a way that only a discovery in his research did, or how he felt when he mastered a new technique in his training.

Let's get started then :)

They started the game, and this time he kept the mic on, as she did. They talked back and forth as they fought creatures and enemies and looted things, eventually coming to learn that she herself was in New York City. He was surprised; suddenly, the world felt a lot smaller, and he couldn't concentrate on just playing after that. The time they spent became more of an opportunity to converse than to play a mundane game for hours on end.

At some point, she switched the topic to his whereabouts. Donnie's breath hitched.

"I'm...not anywhere near. So it doesn't really matter," he told her, cringing. If the guys found out—if Splinter found out—he would be in such trouble.

"Oh," she paused for a moment, trying to find something to say. "That's alright, I don't want you to feel like you have to tell me, you know?"

He'd muted his mic to release a deep breath. He got lost in thought thinking about how in that moment, he wanted to be human. If he weren't a giant mutant turtle, he could actually form a connection with someone. It was a very "Mikey" thing to think, he reckoned, but at times he wanted friends just like his brother did.

"Yeah, sorry, I just…"

"It's really no problem, dude."

He felt as though he could hear the smile in her voice. What did she look like, he wondered. He wanted to see her, but he couldn't ask for that when he could never do the same. If he could get her name, he'd be in the clear to do some preliminary lookups on this person, but so far, she'd been dodgy about sharing info about herself as well. He couldn't blame her. They were two strangers online, one with a huge secret and the other completely in the dark about who he truly was. For all she knew, he could have been a creep, looking to stalk her online and perhaps do even worse. The thought made him feel almost nauseous, how she could be considering that about him as a possibility as they spoke. But she seemed comfortable enough. Unlike him, who was still slightly skeptical of the entire thing, because after spending his whole life in practical isolation, he was at a loss as to what to say or do after a certain point. The conversation died off and both of them thought simultaneously about how weird the sudden silence between them felt.

She hummed, as if searching for something to bring up. When she spoke, he was taken aback—"Hey, I'm gonna be honest, I really like talking to you but this game is getting boring. Do you wanna chat somewhere else?"

"Uh…" he trailed off, mind shooting blanks. Oh, was it just a horrible idea. He couldn't keep the jig up forever; the truth was bound to get revealed somewhere down the line. He was fixing to reject the proposition, tell her that he didn't want to take it that far. She could be anyone. The likelihood of it being a clever ruse on account of the Foot Clan was slim, but the paranoia still worked ambiently in the background noise of his mind. But his other doubt stopped him—when would he ever have a chance at this again? He wanted to have the strength to say no and leave it at that. The loneliness that crept up on him from time to time had something else to say.

"Yeah," he answered after a terribly long pause of mumbling, fighting with himself all the way as she told him where to add her. He could have kicked himself had it not been for the fact that he knew how to encrypt data, and that as long as he didn't leak a word about his inner circle or life, it would be okay. It didn't feel okay, though.

"Nice! I'll text you, see you later, Bo. I had a lot of fun tonight," she chirped.

Before he could respond, she was gone from the party, and the mic went silent. It happened so fast. He was barely caught up with the fact that he was now receiving messages and prompts to talk, but he couldn't bring himself to answer right away. He had to refocus his logic; how could this be used by the enemy as a way to get to them? Could they have somehow anticipated he'd download this game and find this random on there? The more the thought about it, the more glaringly obvious it was that it was not the case. It was just too improbable.

"The probability of the Foot being able to simulate such a specific scenario in order to get intel on us is so slim, it is practically non-existent," he told himself as he finally pulled up the messages. He read through them. "Approximately a zero-point-zero-zero-zero..."

My name is (Y/N), by the way :)

Well, that was easier than expected. He figured that somehow, the name suited you—a fitting name for such a personality. But it also gave him a glimmer of hope. It made him want to ask why you appeared to trust him, as he could be anyone on the Earth over the screen, not his benevolent self. Which she had no way of proving, technically. But he soon came to realize the screen painted him in a whole new light that it casted on him. It hit then that he could be anyone. He didn't have to be himself; not necessarily. She'd never have to know, as he could wear a human mask and she'd be none the wiser. Problem was, the lying made him feel guilty, and slowly would develop to be the thorn in his side.

Donnie thoughtfully stared at the screen. Now that he was here, some of his anxiety began to fade. He found himself actually able to talk, someone to listen to his tangents and even build upon them. They spent hours texting back and forth about anything and everything until it was almost time for him to put the phone down to leave for patrol. He felt giddy, like a kid, all over again.

________________________________________

Had you ever been able to talk to someone this easily?

You asked yourself that question as you exchanged with the faceless and nameless stranger over your screen, chatting from afternoon to night. Time flew by in an instant, with him, and you loved every minute. He was someone intellectual, but funny and so easy to talk to that it was as though the conversation carried itself. After some time he came out about his age after you revealed yours. Oftentimes, he'd just present to you a random question when the subject tapered off and run with it, like now:

What do you think of reptiles?

Puzzled, you took a second to reply. Odd question.

Why do you ask? Do you have one?

I was just curious

What do you think of them?

The chat indicator flip-flopped between "typing" and "idle" a few times before a message finally popped up, and you smiled. You'd learned over this short time that he was a dork in a cute way.

Well...I think they're pretty cool.

They've got natural armor and you would be surprised to know just how fast a turtle can be

You laughed a little to yourself. It was such a random thing to bring up, yet you were endeared. Deciding you'd go along with it, you asked him what else he knew about turtles.

Well...

__________________________________________________

Donnie was wondering what he was talking about just as much as she probably was. Stupid, he thought, facepalming. His first time really speaking with a human as an equal and he starts talking about turtles. Of course he knew a lot about them, he was one himself—but for some reason he found himself wanting to dispel myths and misunderstandings about turtles as if they reflected on him, when as far as she knew, he was just a human guy like herself.

He groaned lightly and typed, thinking up a fact that wasn't too conspicuous.

Red eared sliders are semi-aquatic.

As he typed the next part, he caught himself writing "we" instead of "they", to his dismay. He quickly fixed the error and continued, feeling weirdly exposed as it was almost as though in sharing this information, he was putting himself under a microscope for her to inspect.

They can hold their breath for up to thirty minutes, usually

Holding his breath was something he'd tested numerous times before. He and his brothers had actually made a game out of it on a few occasions, with Leo leading at thirty-three minutes, Donnie in second at thirty-one. Raph broke at twenty-nine minutes and Mikey followed behind in last at just twenty-seven. The ability could be trained, nonetheless.

That's interesting, I wonder what it's like to be able to go underwater so long?

It's kind of cool, you should try sometime

For THIRTY MINUTES?

Shit. He promptly replied:

No—not like I can hold my breath that long, I just mean you should try to see sometime I guess

I tested it just for the fun of it.

Looking up how long humans could hold their breath on average (between thirty seconds and two minutes), he bumped the number up a little bit and added:

Personally, I'm at two minutes and forty-five seconds

He was embarrassed, partially covering his face as he waited for a response. Such a foolish slip-up; he couldn't afford to say anything cryptic. But he still was fairly sure that he had recovered that alright. He couldn't help but think about how awkward or weird he seemed to her. Who talked about this?

I don't think I could hold my breath for more than a minute, kudos to you haha

Anyway, sorry to switch gears all of a sudden but if you don't mind me asking, what's up with your family? You have any siblings?

He told her no. He would not bring his brothers into this, lest it be the slim chance of a ploy, after all. He said his family situation was unconventional and left it at that.

With that, he said to her goodnight and put his phone away, getting up to go get geared for patrol. It was only then he noticed the figure leaning against the doorway.

Chapter 3

[petersmparker]

Clutch pt 7 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: This is the first time Peter has spoken to you since he’d kissed you in the alley, and he can’t help but be surprised.

Word Count: 1868

A/N: woo! long time coming, huh? thanks to everyone following this series for their patience! we’re one week into the semester and college is already beating me into submission. did someone say “five classes that assign almost 50 pages of reading due for every class”?? Love you all for sticking w me!!! I’ll promise the next one will be out faster- it’s already written for editing!! ps, tumblr literally won’t allow a cut, so I’m sorry to anyone who has to scroll past this

INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8

It's nearly a week until Peter sees you again due to careful avoidance in the halls and an unfortunate streak of petty crime a distance from your usual routes. Even despite the heated kiss that had been exchanged and his decision to share with you the name behind Spider-Man, he worries that it would be unwise to approach you outside of the suit, and the sight of you in school makes his heart do flips that leave him flustered and distracted for an admittedly embarrassing amount of time.

Because of this, the week passes with some anxiety and nerves. Peter isn't exactly sure how to make odds or ends of what had occurred between you. The kiss had been wonderful- something he had dreamed of without the nerve to actually hope for it. Moreover, it was his first. He wondered if it was yours too, or if you minded that it was him.

Well. Not him, he supposed. Spider-Man. He knew that you felt nothing for him personally, but rather his superhero alter ego. You knew very little about him, after all, besides his name. There wasn’t much he’s been able to share. But if you did, Peter wondered, would you see something in him worth caring about?

Five days in, as Peter goes through the motions of dinner, he fights the urge to admit to May what had occurred. To just talk about it, maybe get some advice. The thoughts rattle in his brain nonstop, keeping him in a near-constant state of “What now?”. But he meets her eye over her container of takeout as she digs a piece of broccoli out from under her rice, and can’t seem to do it. Not yet. Not until things are clearer.

As he climbs into bed, he once again replays the kiss in his mind for the millionth time, hoping to hell that his fixation isn’t breeding false hope.

The next day, Peter decides to swing through the street where his fight had occurred to survey the damage repair. It was something he, unfortunately, was becoming accustomed to doing after putting himself on the radar of higher level criminals the year before. The guilt always struck him when he viewed a shattered glass storefront or a torn apart corner of a building. No matter how hard he tried, sometimes the damage control got away from him.

Seeing the closed-up mini mart is just like every other time, and it feels terrible.

Despite that, the guilty thoughts circling Peter's brain come to a dead stop the moment he lays eyes on you again. Overcoming them was nervousness. Embarrassment, even, as he recalled just how much you'd been at the center of his mind for the past week.

You’re walking along the far side of the street, gazing up at what is left of the shop. The busted-out window is covered in several layers of plastic, wood planks, and cardboard. While the police tape is long gone, the word CLOSED is clearly displayed on the front door- as if the mess of a window isn’t enough of a clue.

As Peter watches, you move on toward a telephone pole to read a sheet of paper that had been stapled to it. After a few moments, you tear it off and stride, agitatedly, in the direction of an alley that he knows all too well. For a brief second Peter wants to assume that you’ll just walk past it. Surely you aren't going to return to The Place It Happened and cause the impending conversation to be even more awkward than it was already going to be.

You turned into the alley, and with a sigh, Peter jumps from the roof he had been perched upon to meet you there. He touches down next to you, startling you only slightly when he attempts to casually say hello and reach for the flyer in your hand.

"Jesus," you gasp, yanking the paper away from him in your exasperated surprise, "Part of me had a feeling you'd show up, but I still wasn't prepared. Maybe you need a bell around your neck."

Peter accepts the now-offered flyer and tries not to shiver when you gently brush a finger against his throat for emphasis. "Ah, well," he starts, somewhat awkwardly, "That might ruin the element of surprise a bit, you know? The bad guys would hear me. Mr. Stark might have to fire me. And in this economy?"

"Spider-Man gets paid?" You ask, bewildered.

"God, no," he says quickly, "This suit is payment enough. And he gave me all this nice stuff I couldn't afford, I- I'd never ask for more."

With a gentle laugh, you place a hand on his arm. "You're a good guy. Really. It makes the shit this reporter is spreading all the more ridiculous," you say with finality, gesturing toward the flyer he still hadn't read.

Pictured was Spider-Man in the midst of his criminal sendoff. Shards of glass are flying across the whole photograph, and the look on the man’s face is one of complete terror. The caption reads, SPIDERMAN: HERO? OR PUBLIC MENACE?

"Oh," Peter says, dejectedly, "I can't really argue that, can I?"

In a quick movement, you rip the flyer out of his hands, crumple it, and toss it toward the open lid of the nearest dumpster.

"Spider-Man," you say firmly, commanding him to hear you, to listen, and Peter’s surprised by the seriousness of your tone.

Your voice lowers in volume when you say, "Peter," and take his hands in your own, and he nearly melts.

"Everything you do is for the good of others. You've saved people's lives before. Put your own in danger to do it. That flyer is slander. Nothing more. No one in their right mind will believe this, and you, you damn intelligent boy, you should know better than to buy into it, either."

"The damage-" Peter starts, before you raise a hand over the mouth area of his mask.

"Nothing was destroyed, Peter. The infrastructure is sound. It was a single window. It can be replaced. Lives can't be replaced,” you assert, squeezing your  eyes shut tight when you continue to say, “With the way I was reacting, I- I probably would have been shot. You stopped that from happening.”

"But. . ." he starts, muffled against your hand, before he realizes that he doesn’t know what to say.

Your other hand comes up so that you can gently hold the sides of his face. The touch sends shivers up Peter’s spine. He’s sure you can feel it when it shakes him, and he’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so entranced by your eyes now that they’ve reopened. You stare into the eyes of his mask, almost as if you can actually see his face.

Your voice fills with what Peter thinks is gratitude when you say, "I would be dead if it weren't for you."

A tension-filled moment passes in which he reels, mind flitting to a hundred different places, before it lands on a terrible thought.

"Is that why you were willing to kiss me?" Peter asks, tentatively.

Surprised, your hands fall away for a brief second, before coming back, holding him tighter than before. "No," you say, definitively, "I would have kissed back no matter what you had done. I'm glad you gave me the opportunity."

With your words, the anxiety slips away from Peter all at once. The fear of rejection is sapped out of him, the concern that he had overstepped his boundaries, the sinking feeling he got every time he thought about how he left afterward. He is left with a balloon in his chest inflating too quickly. It fills with happiness, relief, and affection. It takes his breath away.

In his joy, Peter forgets who he is. Not unlike the first time, he surges forward, arms wrapping around your lower back to pull you forward. He leans in to kiss you, and realizes once he meets your mouth with his own that he's Spider-Man. Not Peter. The mask is still on. His embarrassment is horrific, and had you not burst into delighted laughter Peter may have left the country then and there.

"That- that was so dumb," he says, awkwardly, reaching up to hide his face as if the mask didn't always hide his blush, "I'm sorry. That was- oh man."

You pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, paying no mind to the mask that has thwarted his attempt at affection. "This is why," you explain, stopping to press a second quick kiss to the mouth of his mask, "You ask if I kissed back because you saved me? I kissed back because in the little time I've known you, you've been funny. And you've been kind, and brave. What more could I have done, besides feel something for you?"

Peter calms slowly, the heat of embarrassment being replaced by a different kind of warmth. A lovely, comfortable one. The urge to tell you who he really is- more than just his name- bowls him over like a tidal wave, potential ramifications be damned. He opens his mouth to do so when a voice at the entrance of the alley says, "Hey, it's Spider-Man!"

Peter turns to see someone who appears to have stumbled upon the alley at the worst possible time. While you hadn't heard them speak, his hearing is far better. You don’t turn until after he’s faced the unwelcome arrival.

Luckily, thinks Peter as he attempts to emote as much disdain as possible without moving, it's just you. Ned waves at the scene you’ve made in the alleyway, unaware of the context of your meeting or the true presence of you in his life.

"Hello there," he adds, when neither of you respond. His tone implies that he's picked up on something, but Peter isn't sure what that is.

"Uh, hello," Peter answers, unsure of what to say.

Ned looks between the two of you slowly. "Is... everything okay?" He asks, seemingly unaware of how odd it is for a civilian to ask if Spider-Man is alright, whether or not he secretly knows him personally.

His eyes flick downward to your hands, still cupping Peter’s jaw.

"Yes!" Peter exclaims, backing away from you, "Everything is fine! In fact, I should probably be going, now that everything is fine."

"Oh?" His best friend questions in response.

"Absolutely," you say slowly, picking up on Peter’s tone.

Ned nods, but his expression clearly states that he is both skeptical and confused. In a moment of eye contact, Peter realizes that you know there's something going on, too. Maybe even that the person who has stumbled upon you and him knows something. The prospect of it is vaguely terrifying. He can feel you continue to stare at him long after he’s turned back to Ned, searching for the words to say, and is sure that you’re searching his body language and the squint of his eyepieces for answers. His posture falls from rigid to defeated.

Peter turns to look back at you, reaching toward you to grab your hand. He stops halfway, thinking better of the action before he’s spoken to Ned. You almost reach out to meet it, but you stop too, centimeters away.

"I have to go," he says, voice laced with apologies and explanations he can’t fully give to you right now, "I'll... I'll see you. I'm sorry."

You smile reassuringly. "See you, Spider-Man."

After a long moment, he turns away. After nodding toward Ned, still watching from the end of the alleyway, he takes a huge leap into the air and swings away. Maybe he’s mistaken, but he’s sure that he can hear Ned offer a quick, I guess I’ll see you later? to you before he runs off.  

Tag list:

@undiadeestos @moonstruckholland @deathofthethrones @souvenirsvisuels

@nedthegay @legendarydazekitten @secretlittlewonders @jackiehollanderr @disgustangg