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livinginshambles · 11 months

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How much are we worth? | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Sirius bets that James can't get a girl to go out with him. James pursues you and falls for you. You are hurt when you find out that you were just a bet, even more when you realise how little they bet on you.

Notes: A classic: Strangers to friends to lovers, Angst, Bet trope, Fluff and happy ending because yey, I believe in second chances :) Existence of a wardrobe that works like newt scamanders suitcase and SPeLLing Mistakes

Masterlist

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In hindsight, you should've known.

"Have you maybe considered giving up on her?" Remus' question caught James off guard when he returned to the marauders at the Gryffindor table after another failed attempt and rejection by Lily.

"Not until she's given me a chance at least," James responded, eyes trained on Lily's retreating figure. "Besides, this chasing game is sort of our thing now."

The marauders nodded sceptically.

"Not particularly the dynamic I'd want to have with the person I fancy," Peter whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. James shot him a look as if Peter had just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Sirius snorted out loud. "Dynamic my ass, yeah." He threw a piece of bread across the table in James' direction.

"He's stuck with Lily now because if he decides to chase some other poor girl and inevitably get rejected, it'll prove that James Potter just can't get some," he added, wearing a shit eating grin on his face.

James pulled a face at Sirius. "Oh please I can get girls. It's just that contrary to you, I actually show commitment to only one," he huffed.

Sirius shrugged. "You say that, but you've never even had a girlfriend. Been pining over Evans since first year. Besides, commitment or being stuck," he weighed his hands in the air. "Same same."

James rolled his eyes and got up. When he turned around, he crashed into someone who had been standing behind him, tripping her, and he sent her crashing into the Ravenclaw table behind him. The Ravenclaw sitting at that table ducked out of the way. She stuck her hands out to brace herself and loudly hissed when her hand ended up in someone's scalding soup.

"Godric, I am so sorry," James scrambled to offer her a napkin. She snatched it out of his hands and dried her hands. James saw that they were scorching red and more apologies stumbled out of his mouth.

"Let me help you get to madam Pomfrey," he offered, concern lacing his tone. He reached his hand out to her and she jerked away.

"Fuck off Potter, I'd rather take a bloody bath in boiling water than go anywhere with you." She spat, and left, hand pressed against her chest, covered by the napkin.

The commotion had everyone turn their heads at him and despite usually being a fan of being at the centre of attention, he embarrassedly sat down again.

"Guess really no girl wants to go anywhere with you, Prongs," Sirius snickered. James offered him a sour look.

"This was just because I literally burned her hand, Pads. Any other time, she would totally go out with me." James boasted, but guilt and concern for the girl who he didn't know, lingered in his mind.

"Right, you wanna bet?"

"The usual?"

"The usual."

They sealed the deal with a nod. Peter and Remus shared a look but they knew that was no use trying to tell them to stop it already. Remus thought back to the scowl on the girl's face and prayed that she would stay headstrong and reject James.

After all, Sirius and James were from wealthy families, so money has never actually played a role during these bets. It’s just the principle of it that counts and is the reason why they only ever bet one galleon. It meant someone would get hurt.

The scowl on your face disappeared with the cool relief of the running water from the girls bathroom on your hand, but the bitter feeling remained when your mind wandered to James Potter. You scoffed to yourself. Arrogant, self pretentious, blood boiling bully. Though never having been a victim of their pranks, you lost several friends to Beauxbatons because of the marauders’ cruelty.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time and left for your Ancient Runes class where you walked to your designated seat next to Lily Evans. You two unsurprisingly got along. Though your personalities were nothing alike, you being rather reserved, you could both value each other’s calm presence and even ‘maturity’ to a certain degree.

She offered you a smile and you nodded at her in acknowledgement. “I’m embarrassed to ask this, but could I maybe share your book? I didn’t have time to pick it up after lunch.” Lily gave you a surprised look but quickly assured you that you could to which you offered her a small but grateful smile.

She opened her mouth to tell you something, when something else, or rather someone else, caught her attention. Before he even reached the table, she had already attempted to ward him off in a monotone voice. “Go away Potter, I’m not interested.”

“Not here for you, Lilypad,” he smugly said and stopped right next to you. Lily raised her eyebrows and looked at you with a concerned look. Without looking up from Lily’s book, you also repeated Lily’s words. “Fuck off Potter, I’m not interested either.”

“I haven’t even said anythi-“

“And I don’t want you to.”

“Okay, but here me out, I-“

“I. Don’t. Want. You. To,” you pronounced every word clearly.

“Come on, just listen-“

You turned around, an incredibly sour look on your face. James couldn’t help but admire you for a moment. You looked pretty, contorted face aside. Especially when you had smiled at Lily. It had caught him off guard.

“Can you spare me a second?” He tried again. For a second, he thought he saw a look of appreciation cross your face at his formulated words, but it was gone in a split second.

“No. Class is starting, get back to your seat Potter,” you dryly responded. You turned back to your book and James walked back to his friends.

James potter was determined though, you had to give him that. You abruptly turned on your heels, ready to walk in the opposite direction, even if it would mean a detour of about 8 minutes to your destination. You were really not into his crap today.

“Y/N!” James called out to you and chased you.

“I told you to call me by my last name. We're not friends, Potter. I don’t want to be. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you. So, for Merlin’s sake, leave me alone, or I swear on his balls that I will hurt you.” You spat the last part out through gritted teeth and

James took a step back in surprise. He looked at you for a moment, carefully considering his next words. “L/N.” He settled on, voice quieter. When you didn’t immediately walk off, he took it as a sign to continue. “I was wondering if you would allow me to sit next to you during our free period between Transfiguration and Potions.”

You raised you eyebrows.

“My friends all took classes and there’s like a two hour gap and I like company, that’s all,” he hastily explained before you could go and reject him.

“What are you, six years old?” You sarcastically asked him. “Can’t spend what, two hours on your own?”

James’ eyes averted to the ground. “Just not enjoying being alone,” he mumbled, almost embarrassedly. You looked at him, great, now you were being an asshole yourself.

“You know the big old wardrobe in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor?” you eventually asked. James’ eyes lit up and nodded.

“It’s bigger on the inside.” You said.

“A secret room?” He asked while trying to recall seeing an extra room on the map. You nodded. “Not even visible on your map because it’s not Hogwarts. A pocket dimension, Dumbledore said.”

James’ jaw fell slack. “You know about the map?” he whispered.

“You can join me there between classes next week if you want, but I can’t promise you that it’ll be any different to passing the time on your own.” You said, completely ignoring him. You stopped in front of the library. “A word about the wardrobe and I swear-“

“-on Merlin’s balls that you’ll hex me, yeah,” he waved you off with a triumphant smile.

“Witty, are you now.” You looked at him. A small smirk lingering on the corner of your lips. James heart skipped.

“Just one of the effects you have on me, darling,” he winked at you. “L/N,” he quickly corrected when your face fell into a scowl again.

“I’m not kidding though, this is my spot to get away from everything. I don’t feel like sharing it with people.” James felt flattered. So you would share it with him?

“I solemnly swear I won’t tell,” he assured you, a serious expression on his face. “You can trust me, L/N.” He cringed at his own words. Trust him? He was only talking to you to prove Sirius wrong.

“I’ll hold you to it, Potter,” you nodded and entered the library. The door closed and James slouched against the wall next to him. A giddy feeling fluttered in his stomach at the thought of hanging out with you.

“So what happened to rather bathing in boiling water than going anywhere with me,” James couldn’t help but arrogantly ask while trying to keep up with your ridiculously fast walking pace as you two were on your way to the wardrobe. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re going somewhere with me,” you denied, your eyes narrowed at him. James put his hands up in mock surrender. “Lead the way, L/N.”

“I am,” you deadpanned.

James sceptically looked at the oak wardrobe. He and his friends had rummaged through this room already. It included the wardrobe, but it had looked pretty normal.

“Doesn’t look very special,” he said while you were busy locking the door behind you. You made your way over to James and pushed him out of the way roughly. He gaped at you with an offended look on his face. “You know, being a bit more chivalrous wouldn’t hurt you,” he exclaimed.

You shrugged and opened the door. James stared in amazement as he realised that the inside was in fact bigger. He walked to the wall that the wardrobe was standing against and squeezed his hand between the wall and the wardrobe.

“Why are you so surprised?” you asked. “We literally learned about the Extension charm yesterday?”

“We did?”

Maybe hanging out with James Potter wasn’t as terrible as you had expected it to be and so, it became a routine. James had finally realised that his persistence to flirt with you or try to impress you wasn’t getting him anywhere and had opted to actually be considerate of you.

He respected you when you not so kindly told him to fuck off and was sitting next to you quietly while you studied between hours in the wardrobe. He had read the book that he’d seen you read in the courtyard- and was surprised to find himself interested in the story- so that he could talk to you about something when your demeanour told him that he could speak again. He stuck to calling you by your last name and learned to read your mood when he could joke around.

Most importantly, he’d learned to enjoy himself in a comfortable silence that didn’t require him to do or say anything and just let him be.

You two were laying on the couch again, feet propped up, both on opposite sides, but feet touching in the middle. James was admiring you. The way your eyebrows crunched up in a frown, eyes squinted, and lips mouthing the words you were reading.

“You’re careless with spelling, Potter.” You eventually looked up from correcting his assignment. “But that’s a brilliant essay.”

James beamed up at you, relief, pride and happiness all washing over him at once.

“Also, you have a nice handwriting,” you added after considering whether or not you should mention it.

James was now fully grinning, pushing himself to sit up from his relaxed position. “Two compliments?” he asked teasingly and you immediately huffed and looked away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Potter. It’s big as it is.”

“But you think I’m brilliant and that my handwriting is nice.” He repeated happily.

“Your essay was brilliant,” you attempted to correct him, but he seemed to be lost in happy thoughts. You looked at him. He had his arms up behand his neck because he had laid down again. He was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes squinted in delight and satisfaction. He looked so... harmless.

“You know,” you began and James looked up at you, propping himself up a little in curiosity at the fact that you were starting the conversation for the first time.

“I used to think you were the biggest asshole ever. Astoundingly stupid and good for nothing but hurting people.” You were looking up at the ceiling now and missed the way James eyes flashed with mixed feelings.

“I had a few friends, you know. They were great, but everyone called them boring and a stick in the mud.” You turned your head towards James. “You and the rest of the marauders used to tell us to “lighten up already,” and pranked us separately, one by one until all five moved schools.”

James looked down, feeling horrible and guilty. It was true that in his early years at Hogwarts, he and his friends had been going too far with pranks. That kind of stopped after that prank.

“So I’ve held a grudge against you, like any good friend would do,” you smiled to yourself at the thought of your friends. “I think maybe I no longer have to.” James heart melted at your confession. Over the course of weeks, he’d become desperate for your approval and friendship.

“You’ve changed since then,” you concluded out loud. “Not cruel anymore.” You hesitated for a moment.

“James?” You then asked and James looked up at you with wide eyes. He knew that this was the first time that you’d addressed him by his name instead of ‘Potter’.

“Yeah?”

“I really value our friendship,” you whispered. “It’s worth a lot to me.”

James heart both warmed and tightened. “It’s worth a lot to me too,” he whispered back.

“Where were you,” Remus asked when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. “We looked on the map, but we couldn’t find you.”

“And we couldn’t find Y/N either.” James fought the urge to correct them and say that they shouldn’t use your first name like that. That he had worked for your friendship to stop calling you by your last name.

“Do I owe you a galleon now?” Sirius popped up from behind him. “What? No,” James said, thinking of another subject to talk about, wanting to ignore the existence of the bet in the first place.

“I was hanging out with Y/N,” he admitted. “But because we're friends now.”

“Yeah, but where were you hanging out?” Peter asked. “Because we weren’t allowed to leave Hogwarts today.”

“Did you find another secret passage?” Sirius gasped and James immediately shook his head to deny it. “Oh come on, we’re your friends, you have to tell us!”

Remus watched James shift uncomfortably and tried to intervene. “Let him be, Padfoot.” Sirius wasn’t having it though, and when James said that he promised not to tell, he responded with, “What, you value your fake friendship with that stick-up-her-ass girl more than us?”

“It’s not a fake friendship,” he weakly fought back. “Don’t call her that.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry Prongs. I didn’t mean to call her that, hell I don’t even know the girl, she’s probably alright. But you’re keeping secrets, it’s not fair.”

You stared in disbelief at the marauder who wasn’t James, having a hook-up in your wardrobe. When he noticed you in the entrance, Sirius merely held his hand up at you in a greeting. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, this is the best spot for not getting caught.”

You backed away and slammed the door shut. James.

“Potter!” you yelled at him when you saw him leave the Gryffindor chambers. Your face was contorted in anger and you were seething.

He looked up at you, happy feeling in his chest and he was itching to show you the paper behind his back.

You stabbed your finger in his chest, effectively wiping the happy grin on his face off. “You promised,” you hissed. James immediately knew what you were talking about. “I’m sorry, I had to tell him,” he tried to justify his actions and you scoffed. “Fuck you,” you spat and walked off.

James stood there, frozen and stared at the empty spot in front of him. His arms hung by his side and he looked down at his essay which wore a big ‘O’ mark and right next to it in Professor McGonagall’s handwriting, ‘Keep this brilliant work up, Mr. Potter.’

James was watching you, sulking. He had made such progress and now it felt as if all those baby steps were for nothing, instead taking eight long strides back. You had closed yourself off again and James was too intimidated by your glares every time he walked in your direction, so he would change directions last minute every time you burned a hole through his head with your eyes.

‘This is so stupid’ he thought to himself when his body automatically steered him away from you again. He mustered up all of his courage and headed straight for you. He would rather face your wrath head on than go back to being strangers. Especially when tomorrow was free period again.

“Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, nervous.

You scanned him up and down. Everything about him looked remorseful, from his posture to dull eyes to his tone when he asked you if he could have a word. You waved at him to take a seat next to you, and he gratefully took the opportunity.

“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t tell and I did and I shouldn’t have. I would go back in time and stop past me from telling Sirius, but I can’t, but I also don’t want to lose you because I meant what I said. This friendship is worth so much to me.” James took a deep breath. “So please let me make amends?” he finished.

“Okay.”

James blinked. “Okay?” he dumbly repeated.

“That’s what I said.”

“Wait, so that’s it? No grovelling? No conditions?”

“Would you like me to add conditions?”

“I mean..” James stuttered. “Sure?”

“Fine. Consider this your second chance , even though it technically is your third after your horrid behaviour towards my friends. It’s also your last.” You said that last part sharply. “Do you accept those terms?”

James nodded in relief and agreed. It was only when he laid in bed at night that he realised that he should’ve probably gotten clean on the matter of the bet right when he had the chance. He was on his last chance after all. But it would be alright. He would simply call off the bet and then it would be as if nothing ever happened. No one had to know, no one had to get hurt.

He waited after Transfiguration and grinned at you when you made your way to him. He had really looked forward to spending time with you again at your spot. Even if the marauders knew its location now, too.

“Lead the way, Y/N.”

“I am,” you retorted with a hint of amusement in your voice. James grinned and followed you, only noticing after a while that you were walking around on the third floor instead of the seventh. “Did you find a new spot?” he curiously asked.

“Yes. And no.” James huffed at your vagueness, imploring you to explain. “Let’s just say that Dumbledore got himself off my blacklist.” You turned the corner and moved a portrait to the side. James knew of the passageway. It was moist in there and cold so it hadn’t interested him and his friends very much. But behind the door you just opened, stood your wardrobe.

He looked at it, amazed. “You got Dumbledore to move a wardrobe for you?” he asked incredulously. You slyly smiled but didn’t say anything except for “I did the cleaning myself.”

“So what’s going on with you and James,” Lily curiously asked you. You shrugged and brought your water bottle to your lips. “Kept bothering me into a friendship, I guess.”

Lily laughed. “Well, whatever keeps him away from me,” she joked and you let out an audible laugh. She leaned in towards you. “But if he’s no longer fighting for my attention, but yours, I think it might mean that he fancies you.”

You choked on your water. “Most certainly not!” You strictly assured her and composed yourself. Lily laughed. “No need to get so defensive over his feelings. You make it seem as if I suggested that you fancied him,” she said, chuckling. You turned your head away and she gasped. “Do you fancy him?”

“What’s with all this gossiping and boys talk,” you grumbled, unpleased. “But for the record, I don’t think so.” You stuck your nose up.

“You don’t think so?” Lily repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I gravely appreciate him and I feel very comforted in his presence. We’re friends. It doesn’t mean I fancy him.” You answered. “Besides, I’ve never fancied anyone. Not sure I know what it’s like.”

“Okay, how would you feel if he starts dating someone, right now?”

You pondered over the question for a bit. “I guess he can do whatever he wants, but don’t expect me to share our spot with some random girl,” you said, the last part coming out more bitter than you expected. Huh. ‘Did you fancy James Potter?’ you wondered.

“I fancy her,” James told his friends while they were out in Hogsmeade.

“L/N?” Peter asked. James nodded in affirmation. “Well damn Prongs,” Sirius started. “What happened?”

“Y/N and I are good, I think. We fit and it feels amazing. It seems surprising, but we can talk for hours or sit in silence together without it being weird at all. Everything is comfortable with her, in like the good way,” James struggled to express all his feelings about you.

Sirius whistled. “Almost envious of you, Prongs. What about Evans though?”

James shrugged. “Not the kind of dynamic I want.”

“So are you going to tell her?” Remus asked. James puffed his chest. “Of course. I’m not shy about my feelings. I publicly chased after Lily for years,” he reasoned. But despite his big words, he felt like a nervous wreck. Because what if you rejected him?

James found you in the library. “Is now a good time?” he asked. You sat up straight. Last night, you had done a lot of thinking and came to the conclusion that yes, you fancied James Potter. “Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you,” you replied. You got up and and started to gather your belongings. James grabbed your books for you and you left the library.

“I fancy you.”

James blinked. Were his ears deceiving him? Were you joking? Did you have a bet of your own going on with someone?

“I’m sorry?” he managed to get out, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“I fancy you,” you stated again. Matter of factly. “I came to the realisation yesterday and they do say honesty is the best policy.” James laughed softly at your sad attempt to lessen the awkward atmosphere.

“I actually wanted to talk to you to say the same thing,” he breathed out in a relieved manner. You stared at him in surprise. Okay. Definitely not what you expected.

“So you fancy me.” You repeated to make sure.

“And you fancy me.” James nodded.

“Do you want to go out with me?” you asked.

James’ heart leaped. He had spent so much time asking that question, he realised that how amazing it felt to hear the question directed at him. He grinned. “Glad you asked, darling. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” He reached out to you carefully wrapped an arm around you. You fully leaned into him in a hug and breathed him in.

“Think our relationship just went up in value.” You mumbled, your words slightly muffled by your face, hidden in his sweater.

You felt him laugh. “Well, we upgraded from friends to couple. How much are we worth now?”

You pretended to think about it. “We’re worth all the money in Gringotts bank.”

“That’s a lot of money,” he hummed.

You had taken James out on a date in the middle of the Gryffindor Quidditch stands at night, after curfew. James was the first to lean in and kiss you and when he did, he practically melted into you, your arms slung over his broad shoulders. He’d muttered something about how lucky he was and you’d told him that he better know it, before admitting that you felt the same way.

After you had left him several hickeys, scattered across his neck, he had insisted on returning the favour. He was only on his second when you two were interrupted by Filch, who had spotted you two. You two ran off to the third floor and decided to hide out in your wardrobe until he was gone all while continuing making out. You and James fell asleep in that position. You on your back on the couch, James draped over you like a weighted blanket with his face nuzzled in your throat, and your legs entangled.

Though very surprised at first, your fellow Hogwarts students quickly got used to the idea of you and James in a relationship. It wasn’t long before you were walking down the corridors together, James hand on your lower back and inching lower. You shot him a warning glare and he bit his check when he splayed his hand over your ass with a cheeky smile. You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a huff and let your hand rest on his ass in turn.

Everything was perfect, which is of course why everything had to become a disaster very quickly. James wasn’t even sure how such a perfect night had turned so horrible. One moment, you were partying, everything had been great, and he had been envisioning you and him for the rest of your lives, and the next, he was pleading with you through a locked door.

“Y/N, we can call you Y/N right?” Sirius had drunkenly slurred. You had rolled your eyes at his antics, but nodded. Though you would never admit it out loud, you appreciated the elder Black.

“I like you. We all like you and we’re happy that it’s you and not Evans anymore,” he mumbled on and he stumbled over his own feet, barely reacting in time to not drop to the floor.

You internally smiled at his words.

“I’m sorry that I was an asshole to you. You’re really great. If I had known, I wouldn’t have targeted your friend group for pranks or risked your feelings by making you part of a stupid bet.”

It was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment, music only barely in the background. “A bet?” you spoke in a dangerously low voice.

Sirius seemed to catch on to your change in demeanour and sobered up at an incredible rate. “Shit, no-“

But you had already turned around to find James, Sirius stumbling behind you to try and stop you.

“How much?” you spat out angrily when you found him. The music was luckily loud enough to hide your argument from other students.

James looked at you, confused. “How much?”

“How much are we worth?”

James frowned at you question. “All the money in Gringotts bank,” he calmly answered you and moved to embrace you, thinking you were just very drunk.

You pushed him away and he stumbled a few steps back.

“No,” you hoarsely responded. “That’s how much I think we’re worth. How much did you bet on me.”

James’ blood ran cold. “I-“ His words opened and closed like a fish. “Because the amount better have been fucking worth it, James,” you cut him off.

“Darling-“

You felt numb. “How little?”

“A galleon.”

You nodded and stepped back. “I was wrong,” you shakily breathed out. “You, James Potter, are still cruel.”

James chased you. “Wait, please,” he begged. You ran out of the room, towards the third floor and into the wardrobe hidden behind the door behind the portrait.

James followed you and pulled on the knob to open the wardrobe that you had locked. He sunk down against the doors and took a deep breath.

He had to explain. He had to let you know that you meant everything to him. And that everything was real. Honesty is the best policy after all, right?

“I’m sorry. Darling, I am so sorry. It’s so stupid how it happened. They were saying that I couldn’t get anyone to go out with me and then I accidentally hurt you with the soup incident, so Sirius bet with me that I couldn’t get anyone you to go out with me. I was never planning on hurting you, I swear,“ James rambled.

“I wanted to apologize and make up for your hand anyway. Not that it was out of pity or anything,” he immediately added.

“I did think you were beautiful. I did want to talk to you. And when you rejected me at first, yes, I did want to prove Sirius wrong. But then you were everything. I wanted so desperately to be friends with you because you were right. The bet was stupid, but it was never about money. It was never even about you per se, but I’m so fucking happy that it ended up being you, because I’m in love with you. Please believe me.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

James jumped at your voice from the other side of the door. “I wanted to, I really did. But I had already screwed up once and you weren’t going to give me anymore chances, so I thought that if I just never told you and called of the bet, pretending it never happened, I could keep you.” He leaned back against the door, eyes tightly shut. “And if we break up, then I don’t regret it, because the past months with you were perfect,” he whispered.

The door abruptly opened from inside out and he stumbled back, having leaned against it. He looked up at you, hovering above him. He knew you. He knew how to read you and right now, you needed space. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, hesitantly and left you alone.

You needed your friends right now.

When James didn’t see you the next day, he accepted that you didn’t want to see him. But by now, almost an entire week had passed and James and his friends were itching to apologize to you at least once more. He decided to ask Lily where you were and was absolutely not prepared for her answer.

“She went to Beauxbatons.” Lily pursed her lips at the boy in front of her in disdain. She knew what had happened but couldn’t help but pity him a little bit when he looked at her like that. Devastated.

James’ world stopped and for a moment he thought he couldn’t breathe. Did you leave? Had he managed to push you away to a whole different school? He thanked Lily for her answer and sat down at his own desk in a daze. His body moved on autopilot for the next few days. He was falling into a routine that he didn’t like.

During free periods, he hid out in the wardrobe, face up towards the ceiling as he imagined you were lying in his arms right then.

You had been gone for a week and a half and had returned to Hogwarts. Feeling lighter in your heart and decisive steps carrying you towards the Gryffindor Quidditch stands, right on time for the match.

You saw James and your heart jumped. He looked good. He had definitely looked better before, but all in all, he looked good. You bit your lip, suddenly insecure and doubting his promise to wait for you. Another twenty points for Gryffindor and admired James from the distance.

When you had arrived at Beauxbatons, you had wallowed in self pity for a day or two before your friends had pulled you out of it and reasoned with you. Surprisingly on James’ behalf.

You knew they were right. You were madly in love with James and he was undoubtedly madly in love with you too. Though it had all started off as a bet, how could you stay upset when it only brought you and James together.

James eyes scanned through the crowd, automatically trailing to the spot where you two had been sitting and kissed during your first date. He had to do a double take when he saw you in the crowds and almost fell off his broomstick when he rubbed his eyes with both hands to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He started making his way towards you when his eyes locked onto the golden snitch. His eyes flickered between you and the snitch, but you had seen it too, so you flashed him a grin. His shoulders relaxed, and he started the chase.

“Darling?” James appeared in the doorway to the boy’s changing rooms.

“James,” you nodded. You were smiling at him, and your warm, inviting tone had him move forward until you were within reach.

“I’ve missed you so much, I thought I lost you.”

“Hm, you’re just lucky that I really really love you too.” You sassed back. James was in front of you in two big steps. “Yeah?” he asked a twinkle in his eye. “Just like that? No grovelling? No conditions?”

You kissed him. “Would you like me to include grovelling?” you laughed at him.

“Yeah actually. You see, I’ve already prepared at least eight different ways to make up to you.”

He pressed his lips to yours again.

“Get a room!” Sirius yelled and you shot him a sour look. He held up his hands in surrender, a shit eating grin still present on his face.

“Fine, but don’t expect your captain back for the celebratory party. He’s mine tonight,” you shot back.

“And every other night, I hope?” James coyly smiled at you. You shook your head in amusement and dragged him away, hand slipping to rest on his ass, his own hand finding its way to yours.

“Lead the way, Darling.”

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @moonys0chocolate @grac3aph3lion @someonesuggestmeaname @mel-yldrm @yrseline @apiec @earfquak3 @yourvvenicebitch @venomsvl @leyla-ravenclaw @spacedangel @darrarii @shrekscrustybudassy @unsleptwriter @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs

@targaryenmoony @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @quackitysdrugdealer @gaysludge @acciotwinz @in2meijasworld @shadowbriar @kategables @prongsprincessworld @devilsnightz @lavandersblues @inesven

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #marauders era #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders fanfic

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mellowwillowy · 5 months

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Yan! Mafia Ringleader x GN Reader

What? I'm sick of these classic Mafia husbands trope yet we all know damn well that part of us is digging real deep into it. So allow me to hand you one of my Mafia OCs.

One of the nation's biggest threats has yet to be your lover, wagging his imaginary tail as he rested his face on your lap. We are so desensitized to how immoral a mafia is due to the romanticization of it to the point you just straight up ignore all his crimes!

Because of his work, the two of you can't really have a private date somewhere out there. Sure the bodyguards are not in sight but you know better than to think that they are not lurking around to keep you both safe from his rivals.

"Won't you gimme a smooch'aroo?" "... In front of your men?" "*Pouts* Pretty please?"

You love it when he throws all cold facades away and shifts himself into a touch-starved puppy! Who would have known this guy just sent one of his enemies their men's heads as a lingering threat to not exert themselves~

While your lover is not involved in the human trafficking side, it doesn't justify his actions for being the largest drug dealer in this nation. Whatever type you are looking for, junkies, he has it all stored for you, with a price of course.

But if you are a junkie reader then he'd be quite worried. You see, he may be dealing drugs but that doesn't mean he's doing drugs. He likes nicotine but would rather not indulge himself in yet another addiction okay? And that goes the same way to you! Please stop it.

And may I tell you that Kaspar enjoys ranting to you about how his day(s) has been, how he wants you to comfort him as you praise him for surviving yet another day? Empty plates are not filled with him just sitting around and he has to fight every day to not remind himself of the old days?

"Oh yes, have my beloved eaten? You are not going through another silly diet, right? Trust me, food is meant to be enjoyed and not over-calculated!"

There are also times he'd rant non-stop about this certain lawyer that he's working with. Of how one of the nation's biggest threats, has been reduced into an errand boy for his spouse! Can you believe that, babe?

Overall Rating? 9/10. Where did the 1 one go to? Your dead friend that insulted you and his punishments. Ehe.

Look, he has a problem with people who dare to look down on him and you, he has grown up in a rather unfortunate background in which he fights teeth and nails to break free so how DARE someone patronize him or you?

Yeah, it sounds romantic but not so cute when it's your literal bestie. He spares no mercy in how he deals with them too, the only mercy he's offering is one chance and nothing more.

Another dark side of him would be his... punishment. Ehe. Due to his upbringing as a ringleader, he is used to disciplining his men, rough. Sure he doesn't give you the same punishment as he does to his men but that doesn't mean it saves you from how unpleasant it is.

The worst punishment that wrenches his heart would be making you skip breakfast, lunch, and dinner! He doesn't have the heart to but he has to! (Honestly, in your opinion, there is literally worse punishment than this, not gonna name it.)

Yeah he is a Beelzebub at heart (Gluttony)

#Kaspar the Drug Lord #LIfE Project #Yandere x Reader #x GN Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Headcanons #Yandere Scenarios

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loving-family-poll · 4 months

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Ultimate Incest Tournament - Semifinals

Propaganda under the cut:

Sam/Dean:

I'm sorry but they have it all. children of metaphorical incest just continuing the cycle in any way they can. they are brothers and mother + son and wives and each other's scorned lovers and life partners they've had multiple infidelity arcs they are sexually psychopathic together they have forsook life and morality and the earth itself for each other and just love each other so much . They are literally in a heaven of their own making together for eternity, incestuously. Come on!!! Blueprint!!!!! It's not gay if he's your brother!!!!!

dean did stuff to sam's dead body in ahbl. i just know it

Messed-up, isolated sibs with all the daddy and abandonment issues. Their lives are so claustrophobic with the brothers no more than five feet apart in the car, a motel room, or standing next to civilians (face it, they are frigging magnets). Can't leave out that they are always touching each other to check for wounds which is a huge PLUS for any shipper.

Sam and Dean ARE literally the blowjob brothers. They walk into a situation and everyone goes well well well if it isn't the blowjob brothers....... And they say. Yep. That's us. And then they fix the situation with their epic love story

THE classic, iconic, show shopping, never done before etc. etc. incest ship. It changed fandom and it changed the world

Dave/Rose:

Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams

What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister

I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always

We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together

Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.

THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR

Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.

do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes

#tournament polls #tumblr polls #incest poll #wincest #samdean #spn #daverose #dersecest #homestuck #semifinals #tw incest

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silkscream · 1 year

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angel unaware

ꨄ︎ pairing: peter parker x silk!reader

ꨄ︎ synopsis: you’ve known peter since you were fifteen, shortly after you were both bitten by the same spider. it was too obvious that you’d end up loving him. as you drift apart during your first year of college, you’re not sure how much longer you can keep dancing in circles with him.

ꨄ︎ genres: best friends to lovers, angst, idiots in love, slowburn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort

ꨄ︎ tags: rated explicit/18+ (smut), alcohol usage, mention of drug usage, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), characters are 19, mild violence, gun violence (there is a school shooting in the beginning but there aren't too many details)

ꨄ︎ wc: 13.8k

ꨄ︎ notes: omg. happy valentine’s day y’all. i’ve been working on this Big Bertha for literal MONTHS and i’m so happy to finish it and share it with you. thank you for being around even though i haven’t been the most active; this is a gift to you <3

ꨄ︎ listen to the playlist!

The spider bit you first.

It isn’t until you’re fifteen that someone else finds out about it.

In many ways, you should’ve known. The symptoms, the hypervigilance, the strange, gradual transition of filling out your body. You blame puberty first, but this feels more than abnormal. It's almost as if it's bursting through your skin. The only other person who seems to mirror your coming of age is Peter Parker, whose twitchy nature exacerbates the longer high school goes on.

You keep your head low because there’s no reason for you to tell anyone about your powers. Not even the boy about whom you’re positive shares the same curse as you.

But then the videos come out. Red and blue lycra flying through buildings, a blurred figure saving cats from trees, webs shooting and swaying as onlookers stare like it’s a circus act. He calls himself Spider-man and you think it’s awfully corny.

You’d be a fool to think that you were safe from the antics of Avengers propaganda, rubble, and ash blocking your way to school on more days than not. You’d be a fool to think that you could evade the classic tropes of American violence that force the president to lament about "unthinkable tragedies" multiple times a year. At this moment, you’re a fool for getting yourself locked in a janitor’s closet while there’s an active shooter at Midtown High.

Your breath hitches when the doorknob jangles in front of you. On instinct, you stick yourself to the ceiling, far in the corner with your senses on fire. You’ve never actually had to attack anyone before. You aren’t entirely sure how this would play out with a gun involved.

Peter Parker’s labored breaths fill your eardrums, and without thinking, you shoot your webs directly at him. He stumbles, clumsily tripping over an empty mop bucket. He looks up at you in confusion. He’s wearing half of his suit.

"You. You just–"

"Shut the fuck up," you hiss, covering his mouth with your palm. In the darkness, your eyes widen. Someone is near.

It’s a stupid ordeal. The crime happening, this meet-cute, the way your senses feel haywire being this close to him. Both of you are holding your breath, your heart is pounding erratically in your chest, and blood is rushing through your ears.

The day ends with you and Peter making it out of the closet through a vent and the shooter getting subdued by the police. A troubled sophomore who barely knew how to use the gun in the first place made it easy for Spider-man to intercept the weapon the moment the kid raised his arms.

Peter follows you home that afternoon like a stray cat, babbling over a game of twenty questions that you aren’t in the mood to entertain. Somehow, his presence leaves your chest feeling warm and light, and you realize that you don’t mind the company. Twenty questions become routine.

He’s the only one who gets it, of course.

He tells you about the Avengers, ignoring the way you scoff under your breath. Secretly, you’re only a little jealous. Not because you want that kind of prestige or even a fancy suit, but because at least there’s a group of freaks out there who know. "How come you didn’t tell me?" Peter asks you. He looks small on your couch despite his sixteen-year-old sleeper build and the fact that he’s taking up more than half of your space.

"What do you mean?"

"If you knew about Spider-Man this whole time… why didn’t you say something?"

"What, like I was supposed to seek you out on the street with a mask on?"

He gives you a pointed look. "You had a feeling about me. In school. Didn’t you?"

You don’t answer, which, to Peter, is an answer in itself.

"I didn’t want to be any trouble. It’s my burden to deal with," you say slowly, blinking up at him.

Burden. Peter smooths the word over in his mind and watches the way your nimble fingers pick at the threads of your sweater. He suddenly feels guilty for pestering you with questions, especially after the trauma of today.

"It’s not a burden," he says carefully. You don’t protest, but he knows there’s a certain level of repression inside you that won't let you give this part of yourself up. As if his knowing about your powers would only be that — knowing. He keeps staring at your fingers.

"You don’t have web shooters?" He gestures to your hands.

"Comes from my fingertips."

"No fucking way. You gotta show me."

"You saw it today," you chuckle as you take a breath.

"Not really," he pouts. The amber-brown of his eyes is annoyingly irresistible, and you know it because of how hot the back of your neck suddenly feels. There’s a hint of a taunting smile on his face, as if he knows.

You take him to the fire escape outside your bedroom window. It’s barely past five and it’s already gotten dark. Luckily, your bedroom faces an empty alley.

"I’m not some circus act, just so you know," you warn him.

"Please," he tuts. "If anything, we both are. Two arachno-freaks."

"You should rebrand as that," you say with a grin.

You shoot a web to the fire escape railing above you, holding yourself up and swinging like you're in P.E. climbing a rope. You feel ridiculous, to say the least. You quickly shoot more webs after a quick scan of your surroundings to swaddle yourself in something resembling a cocoon. It hangs like a playground swing from the metal above.

"Holy shit! Does it ever… run out? Do you get web blocks? Does it come out of anywhere else–"

"I’m not answering that." Your cheeks heat up at the insinuation.

"Sorry, just curious." He holds his palms up in defense, then reaches to touch a fingertip to the silk holding you together. It feels soft like cotton candy and is much less sticky than what came out of his web shooters.

He asks you to swing with him, and for some reason, you say yes. You don’t like to swing very much, and if you do, you try to look for construction sites or abandoned scaffolding to evade attention. Tonight, however, the New York City lights look warm against the velvety backdrop of the sky, and you decide that flying through the air with someone else feels better than doing it alone.

____

He doesn’t understand your desire to stay under the radar. Whenever he brings it up, you take the opportunity to bring up the New York City disasters that have gone underway before the two of you even graduate. If anything, you’ve been a decent backup, but you refuse to be in the public eye. You don’t want to be Spider-girl.

But you don’t mind swinging around the city in your handmade suit, spun and woven together with the silk that flows straight from your fingertips. It’s one thing that Peter’s jealous of, but it helps him when he needs to patch up a wound when he’s on the go with you.

Peter comes through your window with a red gash on his thigh. You can smell him before you see him.

"Ugh, you broke the streak. Five days without a scratch. That’s a record for you, Parker," you sigh, already rummaging through your drawers for the usual first-aid kit.

"I’m fine." He winces as he crouches down carefully on the floor. You’ve gotten good at minding your business and not asking about his wounds, at least not ones that aren’t too deep into the flesh. He knows it would only hurt you if you knew.

"And yet you’re here."

"I wanted to see you. You know I always want to see you."

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You kneel before him, pouring hydrogen peroxide onto the gash as you dab gently with a hand towel. He hisses and grabs your forearm with more force than he intends to.

"You’ll be fine," you reassure him gently.

"Yeah. I could've done it, you know," he says as he carefully holds your gaze.

"‘S’fun sometimes," you reply without looking at him. Carefully, you wrap gauze around his leg. "When I was little, my neighbor and I used to play House, but it always turned into, like… Hospital. And I’d pretend to be a nurse and take care of her, I’d tuck her into bed, and I’d give her lollipops from my Halloween stash for being a good patient."

Peter chuckles. He wobbles slightly as he stands up with your help.

"Am I a good patient?"

"Mm. A very brave boy," you say as you pat his cheek.

"What, I don’t get a treat?"

"Your treat is staying alive." You take him by the wrist towards your living room couch.

He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. It’s not right for him to think of you as an extension of himself, but he often yearns for your presence like a phantom limb whenever you aren’t on patrol with him. He realizes you're the yin to his yang.

It excites him, the images of you two that end up on the Internet. How good you look together. You, on the other hand, dread any semblance of perception by the world.

"People are catching on, you know. Ned found a subreddit on you the other day," Peter murmurs into your lap.

You snort, rolling your eyes the way you always do. You fiddle with the soft strands of his hair. It’s second nature to you. "Ned needs to reduce his screen time tenfold."

"Rabbit."

You sigh dramatically at the nickname. He’d adopted it after the many jumpscares he’d give you when he’d sneak into your room at night. You’d become so accustomed to him that your spider-sense would dull when it came to Peter. He was your source of comfort.

"What, Pete?"

"Why don’t you patrol with me?"

"You know why." It’s too stressful. Too public. Too many run-ins with death that you can anticipate.

"It’s better when you’re around."

"You’re a big boy, Peter," you murmur. Your hand slides across his scalp again, this time with your fingertips settling in the space behind his ears. You aren’t looking at him; instead, you are watching the documentary on the television at a low volume. He crumples at your touch.

"May says you’re my guardian angel. Every time something really bad has happened, it always worked out because you were there."

"I mean, it probably helps when you have another Spider-person as a backup."

"I think she’s right, though."

You don’t say anything. You’re tempted to reply with something sardonic or self-deprecating. You put too much faith in me. But you can’t – he’s looking at you with something that you can’t fathom. Something earnest and entirely too fragile. You have to look away.

He hums, sighing into a tattered copy of Hamlet. "I can’t deal with any more Shakespeare."

"You’re such a slow reader despite being a goddamn genius."

"Did you just say something nice about me?" Peter raises a brow.

"Oh my God, relax, Big Bang Theory."

He scoffs and swallows down a smart-ass remark. A grin lingers in his mouth as he settles back into the book.

____

You’re apart from Peter for the first time since age sixteen. You don’t tell him – you don’t tell anyone – but you decide on an out-of-state university because you don’t want to feel tethered to him. Your friends consider you and Peter a package deal, and yes, he’s probably the first real best friend you’ve ever had, but the gnawing inside of you telling you that distance is needed doesn’t stop.

You, the black sheep, are the antithesis of your hero of a best friend, despite being bitten by the same spider. You’ve always wondered if your story was supposed to play out like some sort of Shakespearean tragedy because of your bond with Peter, so you decide to take your mind off of it. At least it won’t be as painful as severing it completely.

It feels free to be away from all the chaos. In Rhode Island, you can focus on your art and fold your feelings away in a neat little envelope. You’d rather die than let any of that out, especially when Peter insists on such frequent FaceTime calls.

Sometimes, you fall asleep to the sound of his voice. He tells you about taking a train down to Providence in the middle of September to visit you like some kind of long distance boyfriend. The thought makes something in your stomach bloom and stagger in the same way. He doesn’t keep his promise – chem labs are already kicking his ass halfway to Thanksgiving break, not to mention the crime rate in New York City rockets beyond normal.

Thanksgiving comes, and both of you are the same. Peter is exactly as boyish as you left him three months ago, though his brown hair has grown longer and he wears blue-light readers to help with the mild headaches he gets from staring at screens.

He isn't attached to your hip like you expected. Your week off is filled with missed texts and a marathon of TV shows about broken women—the kind with dark humor and falling in love with priests.

The next time you see him, your roommate is out of town. It's not an unusual occurrence given how little she spends time in the dorm, always elsewhere with her new boyfriend.

Peter takes up so much space in your bed that you almost offer to push the two twin beds together, but the feeling of his warmth is too comforting. Propped against the wall, you’re hip-to-hip with him as you scroll through Netflix on your laptop.

You can feel him staring. It becomes routine, or maybe it’s your senses, but you can always tell when he’s merely observing you, watching you carefully like ripples on a pond. You've never really chastised him about it, but it doesn't help that you know he can tell when you're nervous. He has you memorized.

He likes the way you look when you concentrate. Sometimes, when you’re deep in thought, he likes to take his thumb and smooth out the ridges of your furrowed brows even though you end up swatting him away. When he does this now, you look up at him with wide, doe eyes.

"Still as indecisive as ever."

"I have to be, otherwise you’ll just put on Gilmore Girls," you scoff.

"You’re the one who showed me that!" Peter protests.

"And then it was the only thing you wanted to watch to the point where I genuinely considered locking you out of my Netflix account!"

He doesn’t bother to argue, instead resorting to poking you in the side. You squirm immediately, yelping as he continues. He flashes you a leering grin as you whine in dissent, flinching from the feather-like touch of his fingertips dancing across your skin.

"You’re so annoying," you huff, curling your body toward the wall.

"And you love it."

More than you’d ever know.

You pause, rolling your eyes at him. You contemplate kicking him again just to get a rise out of him, anything other than the short silence between you that feels more present than it should be. Your stomach feels warm at his proximity, but then again, Peter’s built like a human furnace anyway.

When you attempt to playfully shove him, he catches your wrist with quick reflexes until the two of you are tangled together. It’s easy to fight with him when you’re both running off the same biological fuel. When he ends up on top of you, you forget how to breathe.

The two of you stare at each other like this, as if frozen in time. It’s you who looks away first, then back to his big brown eyes, settling a palm to his cheek. You can feel how hard he is. You wonder if he knows.

It’s something you’ve only thought about in your subconscious, in dreams, or in moments when you’re bandaging his wounds. How would it feel to have his skin all over yours? It’s a selfish thought, but it rings in your brain without warning at times like these, times of such closeness. The spider bit the two of you for a reason. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

It’s a curious thing for sure, but there are doors you don’t want to open yet.

"One episode and then I pick a movie," you mumble.

____

You don’t tell him about transferring when you come back for Christmas break. It feels embarrassing, despite knowing that he’d be ecstatic about the news. RISD proved to be too difficult for your one-track mind as you found yourself sleeping in more and more, flaking on the most rigorous of classes due to your mood. You’d successfully gotten into Pratt for the next semester and were fully moved out, thankfully. But when you see Peter in the arms of another, you wish you hadn't left.

You should’ve expected it, maybe. Peter had always had a thing for Michelle Jones but could never quite get past the friend zone. It seems as though your absence has nudged him further.

No, that feels too selfish to say.

But it’s still too difficult to bear in the loneliness of December, knowing that when the New Year’s parties hit, you’re still the black sheep. Even in a shiny little dress.

You don’t see him much over winter break, but he gets you a silver necklace for Christmas with a spider pendant hanging on it. It’s more sentimental than you expect, and it’s the nicest gift you’ve ever received. It certainly beats the Lego set you’d gotten for him.

Now, in your black cocktail dress, you smile dopily at Ned Leeds as the rest of the room counts down at the television, waiting for the ball to drop. It’s bittersweet when you remember last year’s countdown, in which Peter insisted the two of you swung out to Manhattan to watch the ball drop in person. You remember how much you wanted to kiss him then, but you didn’t. Thank God for his hero's anonymity and the impediment of his suit.

"Five, four, three, two, one – Happy New Year!"

Makeshift confetti falls to the ground as you watch him and MJ kiss. There’s enough champagne in your system for your heart to grow warm at the sight of it.

____

January is cold. Desolate. Even if you have your friends around you in New York, the place that feels most like home, you’ve come to realize. But there’s still something missing, something lacking. Like you’re inside a familiar place inside a dream.

You ignore the itch, learning to numb it with champagne. It worked on New Year’s, and now it’s been working for several weeks. You don’t leave your apartment.

Even though Peter Parker is a text or phone call away, you fade into the background of his life, watching him through newsreels and YouTube videos. You’re on his mind more than you’d expect. He doesn’t know why, though he does realize that your absence bothers him in small ways.

Sometimes, when he’s on patrol, he’s frustrated by his loneliness, especially in the dead of winter. You were never one to play the hero – he knew that – but it was still comforting to have someone to patch up his wounds or soften his fall. The webs that flow from your fingertips have always been strong, enough to form hammocks in between the corners of his bedroom or a makeshift suit.

And then there are the dreams. They feel real, vivid, and much too physical for something that his mind could conjure in his unconscious. You had only kissed him once before (in real life, that is), at a stupid basement party in the ninth grade, before the two of you were friends, but shortly after the initial spider bite. Although it’s something that’s only been brought up as a joke these past few years, Peter remembers vividly how hard his heart was pounding when the glass bottle landed on you after what felt like an excruciatingly long spin. He could never forget the feeling. He wonders if you feel the same.

It’s not something he should be thinking about right now. Especially when you’re not his girlfriend. He’d rather die a thousand deaths than have you know what you do to him in his dreams when you’re nothing but a reverie of your own silk-spun webs and soft, bare skin. You treat him like prey. He loves it.

Peter can nearly smell you, that sandalwood-citrus shampoo of yours, and your warm breath over his face. Your little whispers of praise, your tiny whimpers. The image of your eyes struggling to stay open while you’re underneath him is burned into his brain.

"I missed you," you say breathlessly. "Missed you so much."

God, how is this a dream? He can feel you so clearly. Until he doesn't, and he wakes up with a groan, an exhale, and an excess of sweat on his brow. Not to mention a dampness below him.

"Fucking Christ," he curses under his breath.

The ghost of you is on his bedroom ceiling, in the corner of his room. Something nearby smells like you, even though you haven’t been in his room in ages. This makes something in his chest hurt until he decides to get out of bed.

He wants to see you, but he feels guilty knowing what he's just dreamt about. He can’t help that the person that makes him feel the most human is the only other one who shares the venom in his blood.

Sometimes he follows you. It feels almost meditative for him to sit on a rooftop and watch you from the window of your favorite cafe, reading and writing and breathing. The brightness of his phone screen illuminates his face as his eyes scan over your contact. Your face smiles back at him, but there’s a distance considering the lack of texts between the two of you over the past month. He sighs as he zooms in on your location – the two of you had shared each others’ years ago and only found it convenient to keep.

Peter doesn’t know why he’s feeling all this yearning all of a sudden – sometimes he recognizes the feeling in his body and he thinks of you and he thinks of safety. Other times, like now, he knows that it only breeds guilt.

But he misses being quiet with you, misses the mundane intimacies of him poking you and you fixing his hair. All the small expressions you make with your face that only he notices. There’s something empty in the space he usually holds for you in his heart, and he doesn’t know why.

He has to see you. Maybe then, something in his brain will click, or he’ll see you as the old friend you’ve always been, and he can blame the heat in his body on his subconscious.

You’re predictable with your routine, because this afternoon, he finds you in your usual spot by the window at your favorite cafe again. You’re writing in your journal with your noise-canceling headphones on, so Peter’s presence is completely unknown to you. After he gets his coffee, he watches you from afar, just for a little bit.

As if on cue, you already know. The moment you skip a song and a millisecond of silence fills the space in your head, you feel him immediately. You always know when he’s around.

"Peter," you murmur without thinking. Your gaze is soft but carries the surprise of a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey," he smiles. "Mind if I sit here?"

He gestures to the armchair across from you, and you nod.

Peter knows how to coax your warmth from you, because within minutes, he has you talking about school, what’s on your mind, and why it feels better to be holed up in a cafe than sit miserably at home. You do the same for him, though you notice he’s more reserved for some reason – he’s tight-lipped about MJ, and doesn’t delve into the details of his hero work. He prefers to bombard you with questions instead, listening intently to your most recent fixations or the newest movie you saw alone in theaters.

"You replaced me yet, Rabbit?" he teases you.

"Never," you scoff, tipping your coffee cup to hide any embarrassment on your face. You haven’t heard him call you that in so long. "You know me. I’m a lone wolf."

"Pratt seems like your crowd though, no? No one at Midtown High was a match for you. You were way too cool."

"Mmm, true, yet you’re my best friend."

"Hey!"

Your laugh is like a song to him; he can’t help but smile ear to ear when he hears it.

"The only person who talks to me at school is this guy Cam from my ceramics class. He’s actually from Brooklyn so we took the train together to get home and he’s around for break, which is cool."

Peter’s face nearly goes cold at the sound of someone else’s name, though he stays composed.

"Fun. Are you two…" He gestures vaguely.

"We hooked up like, once, but I don’t really know where it’s going." You say it so nonchalantly like it’s an afterthought. You’re not even looking at Peter.

"If he fucks anything up, you know where to find me."

You smile, rolling your eyes in that bashful way you do when you shrug things off, and it’s more apparent to Peter now how much he adores all your little quirks and mannerisms. He realizes that he might have them all memorized.

"We’re actually going to a party tonight if you want to come. A friend of a friend’s birthday party in Manhattan, I think? I think her name was Anna?"

"Oh, my friend Gwen knows her and invited me!"

"Small world." You swallow down the image of Peter at the party with an ESU girl for a second, and it feels rough in your throat. But you’ll manage. You always do. "Is MJ coming?"

Peter shakes his head. "Ah, she’s in Philly visiting family. I’ll probably go with Gwen and her boyfriend Harry, though."

You feel shame in your relief. It’s sickening how much you have to bury your desire and your tenderness because you know better. You know that even though the two of you were bitten by the same spider, it doesn’t mean you’re necessarily compatible. Sometimes you think your attraction to Peter is some biological fluke determined by the cells in both of your bodies. And then you think, God, how can anyone look into his brown eyes and not feel a thing?

You're both warm in your chests as you part ways, waiting for your next meeting.

____

The night of the party, Peter revels in the sight of you wearing your spider necklace, which sparkles under the flashing lights of the penthouse apartment you’re both in. His mood dampens when he notices the tall boy attached to your hip like a guard dog.

It’s a stupid game and he knows it. The way he pretends not to see you or acknowledge your presence is cruel, but it feels safe for now. He doesn’t feel ready. He’s high off some gummy that Harry had given him an hour earlier, and it’s still fogging his senses, and even though he can be cloudy and nonchalant at this party, his paranoia precedes him. It feels like you’re everywhere.

He shouldn’t feel this way. Why does he feel this way? You’re his best friend and you have your own life that’s separate from his – he knew this would happen the moment he found out you were going to different colleges. Despite that, there’s a piece of you tethered to him that he can’t bear to cut off. It makes him feel sane, the parts of you that you’ve given him.

But now, he sees you laughing and swaying your hips with someone else’s hands resting on your waist and it makes his face burn.

"Dude," Gwen snaps her fingers in front of his face. Peter blinks back at her. "Are you good?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"Harry wanted to do a shot, you want to join?"

Peter nods numbly, following the blonde to the kitchen. He watches everyone else in the kitchen pour shots and drinks like they are rehearsed marionettes. Harry snaps him out of his daze once he slams down a shot glass full of vodka in front of him.

"Drink up, Parker!" Harry cheers.

The alcohol burns Peter’s throat, but he feels the head rush and the warmth. It feels good, makes him feel looser. Malleable. Invincible, maybe, if he took two or three more. But he knows he has to pace himself. He hates that his default setting is to look for you no matter where he is. But when he scans the room this time, you’re downing a glass of champagne alone.

Your body feels heavy at the moment, so you don’t register him plopping down on the couch next to you. You wake up to the sound of his voice as you always do.

"Hey, you."

"Hey."

Your glass of champagne is empty, so you take the beer bottle out of Peter’s hand without saying a word, and he lets you. He watches you gulp a bit of it down. Maybe you’re a little too drunk. Maybe you’re imagining the way his eyes scan your body.

You’re drunk enough to feel social, but truthfully, you’re deathly afraid of being alone with anyone right now. Being alone with someone would make you feel much too raw and vulnerable, so you convince Peter to introduce you to his friends that you’ve never met, and you try to cope with the fact that they look like they were cut straight out of a magazine.

"Peter talks about you all the time," Gwen gushes, sipping from her champagne flute.

"He does?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," she nods incessantly.

"Only incredible reviews all around," Harry nods, drunkenly slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders. The brunette smiles sheepishly, bashfully. You raise an eyebrow at him along with a coy smile.

"Should hope so," you tease. "He wouldn’t have gotten through high school without me."

It’s mostly a lie considering Peter was the star student and you were barely second to him. Maybe fifth or sixth. In a way, your words are true, because Peter’s agreeing with you.

You zone out as he starts a story from junior year and you have half the mind to chime in when needed. Harry suddenly puts a whisky coke in your hand and you don’t want to refuse out of politeness, but you know the mix of different alcohol will have your head banging in the morning. Peter downs half of his within a millisecond.

"What?" he asks when he notices you making a face.

"Since when do you drink so much?"

"It’s a party," he shrugs.

"Peter, when I brought you to your first party, you refused to drink anything that wasn’t a fruity canned cocktail. You won’t go near wine let alone whiskey."

"A semester at ESU changes you," Harry interjects. "He’s still a little fruity, though."

Peter chastises him as you and Gwen laugh. As the boys bicker, Gwen gets your attention. She asks you mundane questions, like your major, your zodiac sign, and what you thought of the season finale of White Lotus. You’re grateful when she beckons you to follow her to the kitchen to make another whiskey coke.

Her glossed lips twist to the side, eyes bright with a teasing glance. She has the ability to make you feel calm, almost excited to be there.

"He is obsessed with you," she sneers.

"What do you mean?"

"He just talked about you so much when we met him that I had to stalk your Insta, and I was like Jesus Christ, that makes so much sense. If I wasn’t with Harry I’d snatch you up myself. And then when I met his girlfriend and I was confused that it wasn’t you. Unless you’re doing that, like, exes-that-are-still-best-friends thing."

You blush and nearly choke on your drink. "Peter and I never dated."

"Seriously?"

You say nothing, only forcing an amused smile. You don’t know where to put her assumptions, but you sure as hell can’t keep them.

"I’m actually, uh, here with someone," you mutter, pretending to look around. Briefly, you lock eyes with Peter on the couch, who’s pretending to listen to Harry's rambling. Your eyes flit away quickly. "I think I might step outside for a smoke and look for him."

You don’t have to turn around to know that Peter’s eyes are following you. Or maybe you’re just drunk and projecting. Gwen’s bubbly nature makes her seem like the type to gossip, and just because your best friend happened to talk about you doesn’t mean that there was anything under the surface. But then you notice his slightly nervous energy tonight, the silver necklace around your neck, and the last time he visited you months before, when his body was so close to yours.

A pair of hands situate themselves on your waist and it makes you jump. The warmth feels different, as does the sudden smell of sharp cologne, and then you feel your heart drop the slightest bit when you hear his voice.

"Was looking for you," Cam slurs. You can smell the beer breath as he exhales on your neck, making you shiver.

"You sure? Because you’ve been MIA for like forty-five minutes."

You try to keep your voice even, sighing when he plants a kiss on your neck. Any animosity in your tone is completely ignored.

"I was catching up with some people that I wanted to introduce you to," he says, tugging you along by the wrist like a child. You pull up a chair to a firepit surrounded by a group of strangers, and the charade of icebreakers returns. There’s no point in remembering anyone’s name.

You think about returning inside to look for Peter or maybe Gwen and Harry, but being on Cam’s lap is distracting you. At some point, a joint a passed around, and the feeling of the boy’s arms around you makes it easy to melt into nothing.

____

You’re right. You always are. Peter Parker doesn’t drink, and he’s never drunk this much in his entire life. He’s been sitting in the bathtub for… how long? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that his senses were dulled to the point of detachment and he needed to get alone to ground himself.

He’s so out of it that he doesn’t realize someone’s knocking on the door of the bathroom, and his reaction time is too slow before Harry barges in.

"Are you hiding in the bathtub?" Harry squints.

"No, I’m just… hangin’ out," Peter stammers.

Harry snaps out of the facade of a confused daze and shrugs, unbuckling his belt with nonchalance in front of the toilet.

"Dude!"

"What? I’m turned around!"

Sighing, Peter looks around his surroundings. Generic brand shampoo and conditioner. A deformed bar of soap. A red solo cup with clear liquid. He remembers suddenly – he’d filled an empty cup he found with sink water before getting in the tub.

His brain swims with dizziness and mild nausea that mix up his stomach. Gulping down the water, his throat burns immediately, only to realize that it isn’t water at all. It’s fucking vodka and seltzer. Harry’s turned around again, cackling before washing his hands.

"Idiot."

"Fuckingshitjesusfuckingchrist," Peter groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You should just drink straight vodka at this point, man."

"Oh, I do," Harry agrees. He crouches down, squatting to meet Peter at eye level. A warm palm taps Peter’s cheek. "You good, bro?"

"Mmm," Peter nods. His breathing turns shallow as he hunches over, pulling his knees into his chest.

"Jesus, you need to get home, don’t you?"

"‘m fine. You go home."

"Gwen’s been nagging me to for the past ten minutes, so I might. I’d let you crash on the couch, but we’re getting up early to go upstate. How are you getting home, bro?"

Harry frowns when he realizes Peter is barely listening. "Pete!"

He grimaces at Harry’s constant fidgeting. With an annoyed sigh, he shoos the other boy away with flailing arms.

"Heard you," he slurs. "I’ll– I’ll share an Uber with Y/N."

Harry sighs with exasperation, pulling Peter’s arm forcefully to get him out of the tub and down to the living room of the house. Peter is dizzy in his vision, clumsy in his movements, but finds clarity when he glances towards the couch and sees you sitting there with furrowed brows.

"Peter? Are you okay?" you ask.

"Yeah, absolutely not," Harry says. "Gwen and I gotta head home and we’re leaving early tomorrow so he can’t crash. You guys are like, neighbors, right?"

You swallow a lump in your throat, briefly turning your head to glance back at Cam, then back at Peter. He looks at you with a guilty cadence, though his eyes lull with a tiredness that is unusual for him. He’s corpse-like, still hanging onto Harry’s shoulder like a lifeline. It makes the pit of your stomach stir.

It’s unlike him, to be this drunk. The only other time Peter has been this drunk was once in high school, when he was slurring his words all night and determined to clutch you like a teddy bear in his twin-sized bed. You recall his warmth and how his post-puberty figure appeared gargantuan to your body. Foreign, but warm. Comforting. When you think about taking Peter home tonight, you feel like you aren’t allowed to lay next to a body that doesn’t belong to you.

"Yeah, I’ll take him home."

____

"Coulda swung home myself," the boy mumbles. You hit him on the arm and give him a chastising look. Thankfully, your current Uber driver speaks a limited amount of English, not to mention the radio is on blast.

"You couldn’t have. You’re so fucking drunk, you’d kill yourself," you hiss in a low tone.

"Not if you were with me."

"Well, I wouldn’t be. I wasn’t even gonna go home tonight."

"Ah. Of course. Cam,” he exasperates. “Is he your boyfriend?"

You sigh. "No, he’s not."

"Right, you don’t… you don’t do boyfriends," Peter murmurs, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

The car stops in front of Peter’s apartment building.

"Thank you," you say stiffly to the Uber driver as you drag Peter out of the car. The elevator ride is awkward and quiet, as is the fumbling of keys when Peter tries to unlock the door.

He leans on your body as you coerce him into his bedroom, with him thumping onto his bottom bunk.

"Jesus. I feel like if Richie Rich called you an Uber himself you could’ve easily made it up the elevator by yourself. Right, Pete?"

"Mhmm. He’s such. A worry wart. For some rea–" Peter makes a gulping sound that makes your face pale. Immediately, you grab his trash bin and place it between his feet.

"‘m not gonna puke."

"I think you might, Peter."

He pauses and examines you as you kneel in front of him. He’s so drunk, so awfully drunk, but he has enough sense in him to take the caution that the anxious voice in the back of his head commands. But fuck, you look so pretty. He doesn’t know what to do about it.

Peter takes a strand of your hair in his hands and curls it around his finger. His shallow breaths feel louder than they should be. Or maybe they’re yours. He can’t really tell.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "I won’t vomit. I promise."

You sigh.

"I should get going–"

"Can you stay for a little?"

Swallowing, you nod. You get into bed with him, because, quite frankly, you’ve had your fair share of alcohol tonight, and laying down in Peter’s warm bed makes you want to melt off the bone.

"I'm sorry for fucking up your night." Peter turns to lie on his side and drapes an arm carefully around you. His hand is feather-bare on your hip.

"You didn’t."

"You were gonna go home with Cam."

"It’s fine, Peter. I wanted to make sure you were safe."

"Like a chore."

"Not like a chore."

"Yeah, okay."

He does that thing again – holds a strand of your hair in his hands. He runs his fingertips nimbly across your scalp as if he’s handling an injured bird. As if he’s afraid you’d bite.

Your eyes are huge, like flying saucers. He used to say that all the time, especially whenever you came to his apartment after experimenting with any new drugs. You only felt safe with him – you had told him that – and he took care of you and your big eyes and your tendencies toward erratic behavior. He always knew how to calm you down. And now, in your adult lives, you were doing it for him.

You let him keep his hands in your hair and he doesn’t know why. There’s a theory he wants to test – one that he dreams about even when he knows he shouldn’t. He thinks about it in vulnerable moments. He considers that maybe this is a vulnerable moment.

His fingertips trace your face between the edge of your eyebrow and the baby hairs on your hairline. He taps along your temple gently, smoothing across the softness of your skin until he sculpts down your cheek and jaw. He blinks once, then twice. And then he rests the pad of his thumb on the corner of your mouth.

Almost automatically, you part your lips. Your mouth is pink, dusted with a purplish-red in the center from the merlot you’d drank hours before, and he wants to lick it off you.

He feels your heart beating, too, and you can hear his. It's a loud bang that resonates in between your eardrums. It’s that shared venom that makes your bodies so acquainted with one another. You briefly consider whether a human body can overheat and burn away simply by being touched by another. You wonder how human the two of you can really be.

You close your eyes.

"What are you doing?" you whisper. Your voice is gossamer-thin, barely there, but you’re so close to him that he hears it so clearly.

"Whatever you want." His voice is dripping honey.

You shake your head, still with your eyes closed. Peter’s hand descends to your jaw, thumb on your bone, with the rest of his fingers warming up your neck. You feel like you might just choke on the feeling of it.

"No, that’s not fair. That’s not… okay."

"What?"

"You’re drunk, Peter. Don’t do that to me. Please."

"What am I doing?"

Your face scrunches up as your eyes open to look at him with a pained expression. You have to close them again. You don’t want to look at him. You want his hands off of you, so you push them away.

"You’re with MJ."

"I… I know."

Your face is crumpled as you inch out of his bed. You’re back to kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"Please don’t leave," Peter whispers.

"I’m tired. I’ll sleep on the top bunk," you mumble. You try not to let him catch you sniffling.

"Goodnight.” You don’t respond.

He falls asleep shortly after and smells your perfume even in his dreams. When he wakes up, he smells you. But you’re nowhere to be found. There’s only the cold air coming from a crack of his window left slightly open.

____

It’s not your fault, but you’ve broken his heart a million times. The night of the party was the most recent one. To be fair, he had also broken your heart. He was just too fucking drunk to remember most of it.

You’ve become a ghost, barely texting Peter back, and when you do, your responses are short and clipped. You don’t have much time to hang out, and he realizes he doesn’t either, not when he has MJ to spend time with along with his Spider-Man duties.

But he would make time for you if you wanted it. He wonders if you know that. He feels too ashamed to tell you that himself.

It’s been like this before, and he’s been able to cope. The way you’re on his brain and won’t leave —stuck on him like a parasite. It’s his fault, he decides, not yours. He knows he’s not being fair. Not to you, not to MJ, not to himself. But he keeps it all in and hopes it doesn’t boil over.

Truthfully, Peter wants to avoid everyone. He understands now why you abhor winter to the degree that you always have. The desolation is too much to bear when there’s not much sunlight in January to activate dopamine receptors, so Peter sleeps in longer than he should. Late enough for Aunt May to get on his case about it.

"Something’s up with you," MJ accuses him on a Thursday evening. It’s one of their ritual movie nights with pizza and wine.

"Huh? Nothing’s up," Peter shrugs.

"No, I know you. Something’s wrong."

"I’m fine, Em." A lie.

It’s a miracle that Michelle Jones sees through Peter’s bullshit because it means that she has the incentive to protect herself from any future bullshit that may break her later on. Peter is too numb to process any of it. There was the refusal of admission, the attempt to keep up the wall of his emotions, which crashed down soon enough by the time MJ was out of the door.

He thinks he should call you, but he doesn’t.

____

Peter is used to scrapes and bruises. He’s seen more than enough charred flesh than a nineteen-year-old should. You had never asked to be his caretaker, but over the course of years, that was what you became. His guardian angel.

He used to make excuses to come over after patrol, trying to coax you out of your nest of a room for just an evening. He'd always known you were far more talented than you gave yourself credit for when it came to spider abilities, but it felt more like a curse than a gift for you to bear.

Some nights, he dreams of you falling stories beneath him. Your face is covered in rubble and ash, and although his nightmares often start with this, he knows that somehow, it’s his fault. It feels visceral, the burning in his calloused hands. Torn lycra to show the dirt underneath his fingernails. Hot tears dripping.

He starts taking that Ambien you gave him years ago.

After that, each day passes like he’s trapped in a nightmarish purgatory. No, that’s an exaggeration. He’s just a victim of a New York winter, and he misses you more than he wants to admit to himself or anyone else.

"I can take care of myself." And with that, the image of you disappears.

"I know," he murmurs softly. He’s always known. It is insignificant in comparison to how badly he wants to take care of you if you let him. Your voice echoes in the cavern of his room. You get farther away by the second until you disappear completely, and he evidently wakes up.

Even in your worst state, he’s obsessed with your honeyed skin. It doesn’t matter the number of bruises or cuts – he caresses them all with his nimble fingertips, and he’s ready to kiss them until they heal. He thinks about this sometimes, how much he cares for you and your body. What he'd do if you just let him in, let him devour you however he pleases, and it disgusts him.

In his dreams where you’re hurt, he’s willing to sacrifice whatever he can so that you can revert to your clean, unbothered state. I’d never let anyone break you. It’s a prayer for him. One that he whispers in your ear whenever he can, at least in these dreams. In reality, he knows that he has to let you go because he knows you. Knows how much you want to be free and alone. How you can take care of yourself. You’re not a damsel in distress – you never have been. But Peter feels like he was made to care for you. It would gut him all the same regardless of whether you loved him or not, and he was willing.

When it’s real, he doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t ever think the two of you would be in this position.

He’s been in enough battles to know how these things end. Mr. Stark had walked him through it all and been by his side while the rest of the Avengers repaired the other broken bits of the universe.

Right now is one of those unique times, the quiet and wretched ones, where Peter is contemplating breath after breath before imagining the full picture. Shambles of the street he’s in. The ache of his bruised body and the blood that he sees from yours, that he shouldn’t have seen, because you said it yourself. You’re not a fucking hero. So why is your blood streaked on the palm of his hands?

The distance between you and Peter doesn’t matter – it never does. The moment you’d felt a dread stirring in your stomach, there was a sharp pain in your head that refused to leave unless the working adrenaline in your body was satiated. It wasn’t the same adrenaline that circulated within you from a night of debauchery – instead, it felt like poison. A compulsory kind of pain, a sharp jolt to your senses. Tonight, you’d felt Peter in danger, and it would’ve killed you if you couldn’t get to him. He'd been the destination you'd been dead set on by the end of the night because of your spider instincts.

The police broadcast was too muffled for you to understand much of it, but you picked out the parts where Spider-Man was mentioned and followed through on them. Although you didn’t fall into the shadow of his hero work, you still kept enough tabs on Peter to know where he would usually be on patrol. It wasn’t like he knew, or that you’d ever told him, but when he was starting out as another guard dog for the Avengers in high school, you needed to at least know his approximate location in the event that something went terribly wrong.

An explosion blasts in the center of a park, where the two of you would meet in the middle between Queens and Stark Tower. This is where you lay your courage down. This is where you find Spider-Man’s mangled body before anyone else does.

"Peter," you huff. "S’gonna be okay. You with me? I’m gonna make sure you’re okay."

He’s just less than conscious, the stretch of his animated eyes limited by his weakness. When he sees your face, however, his face glows – not that you can see it through his mask.

He says your name with a fervor that surprises you. His voice is raspy.

"‘m fine. I have to stay," he grunts, his pain palpable. You know that he’s telling the truth, but you don’t want to leave him alone in his misery.

"Peter. You’re hurt."

"You go home. I’ll come find you later. Just let me–"

"You’re fucking limping."

You had always carried yourself like a feather-like, lithe ghost. Quiet, whereas Peter was bold, despite the fact that his anxious nature had rendered him a boyish thing all these years. This is why he’s surprised that you carry him easily with your supernatural strength. He forgets that you have the same abilities as him. If anything, he’d think you were stronger than him in every way.

Even with his thick skin, he melts into something malleable, comfortable. The solace of your arms makes him feel better already.

A pang of small guilt rots away within him, knowing the circumstances of your last meeting. You’re too good. He didn’t deserve to be saved by you, to be patched up with your nimble fingers like he had been treated when he was younger and more naive.

"I can make it to my place, it’s okay," he rasps gently.

You don’t have to say anything, because bullshit radiates through the stern expression of your eyes, your mouth in a grimace. You had always been stubborn and today isn’t an exception. With your webs, you crochet a path for him toward your home, lifting and catching the boy effortlessly as you swing.

A gentle sigh escapes his mouth when the two of you crawl into the safety of your fire escape. The night is quiet behind you. When he looks at you, you have to look away, fixing your hair nervously or occupying your gaze anywhere but in his direction. His eyes are poignant in their longing, though you’re unsure of what he could be thinking. If he’s sorry about before. If he’s ashamed.

Your wispy webs wrap around the parts of him that hurt, but you wince when you check on him to see that the white fibers are slowly saturated with the dark crimson of his open wounds.

"Peter, you have to wash up," you whisper. "Shit’s gonna get infected. I can put some gauze on you after you shower."

He nods wordlessly when you ask him if he can manage the shower on his own. He feels vulnerable, and although your presence is always desired by him, he finds relief in the hot steam of your shower, alone with his thoughts. He’s still shaken from the explosion. Not completely catatonic, but tense. As if he isn’t in his body at all.

When Peter emerges from the bathroom, he looks like a stranger. Scars adorn his sides. Your face crumples at the sight of his fresh wounds.

"C’mere."

It doesn’t take you long to fix him up, cleaning his cuts and wrapping gauze around his stomach and chest. His quiet grunts startle you, as if he's a wild animal. Eyes screwed shut, brows cinched in pain. A heavy exhale and a mumbled apology followed.

You forgive him with a soft touch and a hushed whisper. He wishes the ache would stop. He wishes he could lie on your bed and have you whisper in his ear all night until the sound of your voice lulls him to sleep.

There aren’t many words exchanged, and you want to ask him why. If you did something. But then you think about the images on the news and his withered face, and you decide not to probe the sphere of trauma surrounding him. Peter has probably gone through more in the last twelve hours than you have in a week.

You stop him before he tries to make it out of your bedroom door and towards the living room.

"I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ve done it before."

"It’s like sleeping on a rock, Parker. You just gone through God knows what," you chide. "Just… get in here."

As he breathes in and out, he nestles in your shoulder, his clean hair tickling your bare skin. There’s a nasty guilt that lurches from your sternum. As if you were the reason for his pain. For the state of his body. And you think back to the desperate look in Peter’s eyes the night you took him home from the party. Were you too cruel, then?

It’s like he steals the words from your mouth. He beats you to it.

"I’m sorry," Peter murmurs. His amber eyes blink up at you, unfathomable. You flash him a downturned grin.

"For what?"

"I feel like… there’s been a distance between us lately. And I don’t want that, because you’re my best friend. And now you’re taking care of me when you don’t have to. I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate it. That I, um, lo–," he stammers. He chews on his bottom lip. "You’re really good."

"‘m not all that good, Peter."

But of course, you are, he protests in his head. You are the moon and the stars and everything in between.

"I’m sorry for not being around."

"Not just your fault," you shrug. "Phone works both ways."

He knows you better than you think because, within seconds, his palm rests softly on your cheek, where he feels a hot tear.

"What’s up, Spidey?" he asks you. It makes you laugh.

"Shut up." You shake your head, trying to hide your face. The feeling of his thumb rubbing your cheek makes the tears flow even more. "I wouldn’t know what I’d do if something bad happened to you. If I couldn’t get to you. Or if you – if you were gone."

"I’m okay, Rabbit. We’re okay."

"Yeah," you chuckle, trying to hide your tears.

"Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried."

You feel warmer in his grasp. His small breaths fall on your arm as his body curls up next to you. He’s bigger than he’d been before back when you were teenagers. The jaw is chiseled and sharp. Not as soft and boyish as you once knew. With your senses, you can discern the steadiness of his heartbeat as his chest rises and falls into slumber. You fall asleep soon after, dreamless but full of warmth.

____

Waking up next to him is nothing new, but it’s been years. You never thought anything of it when the two of you were sixteen, staying up all night reading creepypastas and watching movies until you’d fall asleep on top of each other by four in the morning.

After a night’s sleep, Peter's sullen face is a bit brighter despite his dark circles. His limbs are entangled in yours, bodies fused together. Yin and yang. You can only assume that this is how it will always be.

You keep mental notes of him like trinkets. The uneven slant in his left eyebrow. The faint freckles dotted along his nose, the one near the corner of his mouth. The faint shadow of hollowed-out cheeks. Peter is still half-boy to you, and half-man, but you didn’t want to come to terms with it. Maybe he was something else. Half-ghost. Half-angel.

Slowly, over the course of a few weeks, he comes back to you again. Sitting together and reading at a cafe. The occasional 3 am swing. Walking around high at the 7-11.

"Did you like Rhode Island?" he asks over a joint one night.

You hum for a second, trying to come up with an acceptable answer. It wasn’t that you hated being in Rhode Island. It was that you hated being away from him.

So instead, you shrug. "It was nice to get away from everything. Providence is still a city, but it isn't as large as all this–”

You trail off, making a vague gesture with your hands. Chaos, Peter presumes.

"Less overwhelming?"

"Sure," you say, nodding. "I missed being home, though."

I missed you.

Peter passes you the joint. His brain feels fuzzy. Warm. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He massages your ankle absentmindedly.

"I get it," he says, breaking the silence.

"You get what?"

"Wanting to leave. I've been thinking about it," Peter shrugs, his eyes squinting in the late afternoon sun. "Sometimes I wish we could pack our bags and go to the countryside. See some cows and shit."

We. We. We.

"There are cows upstate," you snort.

"You know what I mean."

"We can do a road trip."

"You can’t drive."

"I am aware and perfectly fine with being a passenger princess. In fact, I’m looking forward to it," you grin.

He yanks your ankle this time, causing you to slip from where you’re sitting on the pavement. Giggling, you swat away his hands, but he’s too quick, untying your shoelaces as you kick and thrash.

"Honestly, it’s probably better for society if you never get behind the wheel," Peter teases. He dodges you when you try to kick him in the shin.

"Oh, but you can be? You get so distracted so easily! Whenever you’d practice driving, you’d miss so many exits or be too anxious to merge on the highway."

"Okay, well, you’re just a force of distraction," he shrugs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "You have that effect on people."

You look at him quizzically, your eyes narrowing. If there’s anything behind his statement, he doesn’t show it on his face. Peter knows his cheeks are burning, however.

There are more moments like these. Ever since you’d rescued Peter that night, he’s grown accustomed to spending hours of his day idly looking for you, learning your class schedule, and following you home like a pet when it’s time to unwind. He stays for hours like he used to when you were kids, and although he always thinks he’s overstaying his welcome, you don’t seem affected.

You curl into him more these days, like a sunflower stretching toward the morning glow. There are more lingering touches, here and there. You have to remind yourself not to get too comfortable, but God, he makes it so easy.

So the burning question pops out during a marathon of Chainsaw Man.

"Does MJ care that we hang out so much?" you blurt out. He looks at you like you have three heads. Also, his mouth is full.

"Um, webrobrup," he mumbles. He frowns as he looks down. Hot Cheeto fingers.

You mock him, of course.

"English, yeah?"

He chuckles as he finishes scarfing it all down. He shyly licks his fingertips, and you have to stop yourself from staring at the way his fingers enter his mouth. Ugh, gross. This is hardly supposed to be hot.

"We broke up."

You keep a straight face. It’s not like you’re excited or anything. You realize you shouldn’t be surprised because… why else would he be so available to you lately?

"Shit. You really fumbled, then."

"Shut up," he laughs.

"Seriously. Who else is gonna wanna put up with you?" You both know the answer to that.

"It was mutual," he says, shrugging. "I’ve got all my Spider-man shit, she’s getting into a bunch of extracurriculars and even a research internship even though we’re literally first years."

"Classic MJ."

"Yeah."

"We’ll get you back on the market, buddy," you tease, patting his head like a dog. A coy smile lights up your features. It makes something inside him melt.

"I’m not a piece of meat."’

You click your tongue.

"Oh, right, you’re an insect."

"Hey, so are you!"

____

You used to think it was a kind of twin telepathy, the magnetism to Peter that you felt. Bitten by the same spider and entangled in the same web. You realize as you grow older that it’s more than a platonic bond. It feels like wanting to share the same skin.

Or maybe it’s the wine talking.

It’s not your job to keep Peter afloat at the party right now, but both of you remember too well how the last party went. He continually sips water in between gulps of whiskey like a paranoid freak, which you tease him about. Maybe it’s just the darkness of his eyes under this light, but his pupils look wide and dilated.

It’s almost March. You’d both endured a proper New York winter, which usually extends until April if you’re lucky, but global warming has other plans. It's warm enough for you to pair one of your favorite dresses with an oversized Carhartt jacket that used to belong to Peter before the bite bulked him up significantly. You fiddle with the black velvet wrapped around your body as you pretend to listen to banal conversations, leaning your head into Peter’s bicep.

You keep picking at loose threads obsessively. You think about your fingertips and their webs. You think that maybe you should take up crocheting to distract your hands from their restlessness.

Peter grabs your hand away from you, squeezing it slightly, not even looking at you. His flushed palm rests against yours. Gently rubbing your thumb between your finger divots

If you were a cat, Peter would imagine you purring right about now. He wants to take you into his lap, stroke your hair while the alcohol subsides in both of your systems. The thought of you on top of him causes his cock to twitch slightly. His rose-colored cheeks are from the whiskey, he reassures himself. An affirmation. He lets go of your hand.

He knows that this isn't the time or place for such thoughts, so he makes an effort to push the desires down. He knows they'll come up again when the whiskey leaves his veins, but at least he'll be of sober mind.

Christ, he feels like he's at a middle school dance. Especially when you run off with a spring in your step to socialize with some girls you recognize from school. The smell of your hair lingers next to him. It's sweet and slightly floral, a scent that makes him think of when you were kids.

His ears perk up like a dog's when you call his name, reaching out to him so that you can introduce your best friend. He has the right mind to be polite, even funny at times, but he knows he pales in comparison to your current charisma, which contrasts with your usual wallflower nature.

Peter likes watching you talk, and you like that he watches you so intently. When you know he's watching, it's easy to deadpan some drunken jokes and elaborate superfluous tall tales from your high school days. His eyes are bright, and his bottom lip is chewed in between his teeth.

Suddenly, he gets to be alone with you in the kitchen. Your scent permeates the air. He could drown in it.

“Rabbit," you whine petulantly. "Swing me home."

"How drunk are you?" he chuckles with adoration.

"Not very. Just tired, s'all," you respond with a yawn. You scrunch your nose. "Can I sleep at yours?"

Peter looks at you with a soft gaze. "Of course, angel."

Angel. He's never called you that before. You decide that you like the sound of it.

By the time midnight comes around, you're barefoot in his bedroom, black velvet spinning loosely around your figure. In Peter's blurred vision, you look like a friendly apparition, one that particularly favors "Champagne Coast" by Blood Orange.

"Come into my bedroom, come into my bedroom," you quietly sing along as you sway your hips.

"You're already in my room."

Your smile beams at him, huge and illuminating, and impossible to look away from. Peter wishes that he could bottle up this moment to revisit it, or maybe live in it for the rest of his life. The sweetest way to exist.

Your body sinks to his level -- no, collapses -- as you roll over his heavy frame and rest yourself on your back. Your hair fans out like you're underwater. Your lips are red and wine-colored, freshly bitten. When you turn your head toward Peter, his hand plays with the exposed nape of your neck, fingertips grazing the creases of your skin.

"You used to be so gangly, you know," you murmur. Your voice is lower than usual.

"Okay, well, I'm not anymore."

"I could totally still take you in a fight." Still refers to the times when the two of you would attempt something along the lines of combat training, if combat training was just you unleashing your hotheadedness with your mutant powers instead of with your fists. If you weren't so agile, maybe Peter would've had a chance of winning.

"I'd like to see you try, angel."

It's decided -- you are on top of him, knees bent around his waist as you wrestle. The fabric of your dress pools around your waist in a way that feels sacrilegious. Peter has his hand on your thighs, and his touch feels white-hot to both of you, so he closes his eyes, tries to focus on swatting you away like a bat instead. When he opens his eyes, he meets your devilish ones, gleeful that you've managed to pin his arms above his head.

It would take two inches to break this spell of separation. He keeps trying to keep this bubble intact because the last time he tried to pop it, the look on your face made him want to dig a hole and lay in it forever.

Peter feels sorry for many things. He feels sorry for the times he's intruded, when he's made Mr. Stark angry, for the times he couldn't be there for you. He feels sorry that you had to take care of him when he wanted to do that for you.

Right now, however, Peter doesn't feel sorry at all. The slight twitch of your pulse, the way you smell, the curve of your bare shoulders -- it's all too tempting for him to feel sorry for. So he kisses you.

He's surprised when you nearly bite him back. You inhale sharply, pressing your body against him as you let go of his wrists and rest your palms on his jaw instead. Your kiss is fervent, desperate.

His brow cinches in confusion when you pull away.

"Wha--"

"Fuck."

"What is it?" He frowns.

"I owe Ned twenty bucks."

"What?"

"I just remembered. At graduation, he was like, teasing me that we were gonna get together, and we bet on who would make the first move. I was just entertaining him, but you know how that kid gets about twenty dollars."

"So you thought you were going to make the first move, then?”

“I mean, yeah. How was I supposed to know that MJ was going to cuff you before I did?”

“You snooze, you lose, I guess,” he deadpans.

“You don’t even fucking deserve me, you little freak,” you taunt, tickling his exposed midriff.

“God, I know. I’ve known that for a while. Too bad I want you regardless.”

He smiles as he captures your lips again, tasting sweet and smoky at the same time. He coaxes you onto your back and you revel in his body heat and the way his large hands grab the plush of your thighs, pushing and pulling your skin taut. It’s so erotic that it almost feels dirty.

You kiss him back like he’s your last meal while you roam your hands under his shirt, then to his protruding collarbones, then experimentally, to the tufts of his chestnut hair. You pull a bit too hard due to your eagerness and he lets out a mewl that you never could’ve imagined to come out of him.

“You like that, don’t you?” you taunt darkly. “Is that why you always want me to scratch your head when we watch movies?”

“I don’t care what you do as long as you’re touching me,” he breathes out, like a confession. “Don’t care how you touch me, s’long as it’s you.”

A tepid blush soaks your face. You shut him up with another kiss. He licks at your bottom lip, groaning softly at the feeling of your soft body against his.

“You’re so pretty, Peter,” you whisper.

“You are.”

Before you can react, you hitch a breath in surprise when you find that his hands have fully reached above the hem of your dress and onto the bare skin of your hip, toying with the elastic of your underwear. You part your legs, bending your knees so that you can pull the fabric off.

He sighs as his fingers tease the slot of your cunt, which grows wetter and wetter with every touch. Your sensitivity makes you squirm a little. He can tell so easily that you’re falling apart for him. He loves it.

You nearly whine when he takes away his fingers from you. Instead, he towers over your body, pulling your legs toward him as he pulls up the hem of your velvet dress and cascades kisses on your knees. He slowly works his way up to your thighs, biting gently, then hard. Meanwhile, his hands roam the perimeter of your chest and your ribs, all soft and pliable for him. You’ll be delighted when you wake up to a bruise on your thigh stuck in the shape of Peter Parker’s mouth.

A shiver lacerates your lower body all the way up to your neck – you feel it, viscerally. All from his mouth. He slots his tongue onto the bud of your clit going slowly just to watch you squirm.

“Please,” you beg.

“Please what?” His eyes are as dark as the sky. As dark as your dress.

“Your– your mouth. I need it. Please. More.”

Peter’s grip on your thighs tightens as his face moves closer to your center, licking incessantly as you cry out. You attempt to muffle your sounds with your hand covering your mouth, biting the skin on your palm. Your blood is hot, pumping hard, all the way down to your swollen clit, and he treats you like a man starved.

“Oh my God,” you gasp. “More, please. Pleasepleaseplease.”

He listens to you, forcing his ring and middle finger into your cunt and curling upward. Your legs shake involuntarily when he does this and it takes everything in him to not stop just so he can see the look on your face head-on. You look so beautiful right now.

“Gonna cum, Pete. Fuck.”

He closes his eyes as he savors your sweet taste. He feels it when you cum as if it’s happening in his body, too. A jolt to the sense. A vivacious rumble. Your mouth is slack, jaw falling open with your eyes screwed shut as you finish, and Peter towers over you to watch. He’s never seen you like this. He wants to keep the image of it forever.

You thank him with a messy kiss, not caring about the remnants of your lipstick. Your hands attack him, teeth nipping at his earlobe as you help him undress. Soon enough, the two of you are naked together, limbs entangled and kissing without paying any mind to oxygen.

You take his jaw in your hand as if he’s a delicate thing. Easy to break. It’s your turn to tease, now.

“What do you wanna do?”

“You’re such a little shit,” he mumbles, but he can’t help but grin.

“Tell me about it, Spidey.”

“Want you, Rabbit, want to make you feel good.”

“And how exactly will you do that?”

“Gonna fuck you. I’ll make you cry if you keep being a little shit like this, too.”

There’s no time for a reaction. He’s on top of you, pinning you down, and he licks your collarbone up to your jaw as you whine like a newborn kitten. He spanks your ass and you have to your bottom lip to keep from being too loud.

“You want it that bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. He melts at the sound of your voice, cooing softly as he playfully bites the skin of your cheek.

You love him like this, a burst of passionate energy focused on you and you only. His little angel. You remember your rabbit heart caged in your sternum fragile and thumping like an earthquake for him.

He pauses to give you another kiss, this time sweet as he licks up the bottom of your lip. You can feel him at the crux of your legs and you can feel the want pumping in your veins. Patience. Patience. Patience.

“You want me to go slow?”

“Of course not.”

You’re so relaxed in his grasp. Gooey with your desire that it might disgust you if you weren’t so enamored. You keep your eyes on him when he enters you – you want to see the look in his eyes.

Peter feels selfish wanting to tease you like this. He’s slow when he enters you, listening to your sweet exhales.

“Easy,” he warns. “‘m gonna take care of you, don’t worry."

Please floods your entire body like a heat stroke. You bend your knees upward and rake the smooth terrain of his back, lifting your hips up at the same time. He thrusts once, then twice, and already, he feels like he’s ready to unfurl completely.

“Fuck,” he groans. You’re so goddamn wet. Soft. Velvety.

“Don’t be shy, Peter,” you murmur. “C’mere.”

You keen into the way he buries his nose into your shoulder, shallow breaths uneven and erratic as he continues, losing control bit by bit as he goes on. His pleasure is the knife you twist inside yourself.

You gasp at the way he can carve you out, the way he knows exactly where to put his hands as he grasps for your body, like he’d molding you from clay. He drinks down your moans with his mouth, eyes fluttering at the impact of your cunt clenching him.

Peter props himself up now, moving his body backward so he’s perpendicular to your core. He holds you by your hips a little too hard, but you’d always liked it rough. You liked it when he would cuddle you or play with you or put his entire body weight on you. To smother was to be encased in something akin to love.

“Fuck,” he hisses, getting the hang of a constant rhythm. His hips slot with yours as his cock thrusts deeper into you, until he can feel the slight tremble of your thighs.

“You okay?” he asks, chest heaving.

“Yes, keep going. Keep going.”

You underestimate how fragile you are. A rough thrust almost has you there, until he pulls out of you like a stolen breath, and it leaves you whining.

“Pete.”

“Shh, I’m just trying to pace myself,” he breathes, jaw slack and glistening with sweat. “You feel too fucking good.”

“Come back or I’ll break your wrists.”

He chuckles, but you’re dead serious. You lift your body to him so you can pull his down, kissing him with a ragged hunger that’s all teeth and lust. He’s quick to match your vigor but with more tenderness than desperation. It makes you melt, how natural it is, how this is how it might’ve felt in a past life. Your bodies entwined in a way that’s proverbial.

He listens to you. Fucks you much rougher than before, giving in to what he wants, because he’s not sorry about how much he wants you. Your broken moans curl out of your throat and into his mouth and the feeling of him deep in you makes you feel like a balloon ready to burst from the pressure.

It’s like Peter reads your mind, because suddenly, his hand is around your throat. You’ve never looked more angelic to him than you do now, eyes half-lidded and your reddish mouth all lax.

“So fucking beautiful, I love you,” he mumbles against his mouth.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

All of Peter’s muscles are tense from holding back. Fuck, he doesn’t want to cum until you do.

Luckily, the way his cock stretches you out has you nearly drooling underneath him. He touches the deepest parts of your insides like he belongs there, like he was meant to be there, as if the way he turns his hips toward you is a vow in itself. You whimper at the feeling of it all and he nearly loses it.

“I’m so close,” you pants. Thank fucking God.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cum for me,” he coos. “You’re doing so good. Fuck.”

Your gaze lingers on the shape of his mouth. You think about how his voice sounds when he calls you angel.

Your orgasm comes like a flower blooming, like a beam of light in the darkness. He feels it, too, so vividly like he shares your body. It feels strange how much he feels that he hasn’t felt before, and it makes him come undone right after you.

He pulls out of you and spills onto your stomach unceremoniously with something in between a grunt and a whimper. He’s all over you. You want to bury your body into his.

“Peter,” you whisper, your gaze languishing.

“Yes, angel?”

“I think I owe Ned fifty bucks now.”

He looks at you incredulously but you can’t keep the facade, bursting into laughter as he groans in annoyance and flops his body on top of yours.

“Ew, clean me up, at least,” you complain.

“Right,” he says, nodding. And he does, with a spare t-shirt from his floor absentmindedly while he shares a grin with you. “You serious, though?”

“Of course not,” you scoff. “Ned Leeds will never get anything over twenty bucks from me.”

He laughs and it sounds like heaven.

“You said you loved me,” you tell him.

“I do love you. I’ve always loved you.”

You could cry right now. Surely the influx of endorphins in your body is breaking the rest of your brain.

“I love you, too.”

You kiss him again, open-mouthed, teeth sucking slightly as his lips. He takes a fistful of your hair while his other hand caresses your jaw. It excites you when he breaks the kiss by pulling your hair. His cheeks dimple the slightest bit when he smiles at you.

“Don’t do that, you’re gonna get me hard again.”

“You have the stamina,” you shrug, hugging one of his oversized pillows to your chest.

“You’re cute.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How come you call me angel now?”

Peter shrugs. He rubs his hands on your calves.

“You’re my guardian angel. Always have been. And you’re not allowed to complain about it being corny because it’s true.”

Peter is shy all of sudden as if he hadn’t just fucked you. His brown hair is tousled to bedhead perfection, messy and slightly frizzy, and the warmth of his skin radiates from the way his whole body seems to blush in front of you.

“I have a proposition.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Come on!” You nudge him, kicking him with your feet. You get off of his bed to rummage through his dresser drawers for an oversized t-shirt, just dodging his attempts to grab you by the waist.

“Okay. What is it?”

“We should use our webs next time.”

He blinks, smirking, indulging you for a second.

“Deal.”

tagging mutuals: @meliapis @cutetomholland @userholland @sparklingsin @tomdutch @userholland @vendettaparker @selfcarecap @simplykenni @uhlxis @cordiformity @sapphicsoie @seolaseoul @honeyspidey @logangarfield @justapurrcat @arachine @cocoamoonmalfoy @ohcaptains @aniqua

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #spiderman x reader #mcu!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x you #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #peter parker x you

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binniebakery · 4 months

Text

Doll

Non Idol AU Soobin x Fem!Reader, Friends to Lovers(?) ♡ Warnings: very heavily inspired by dollification (im crazy), reader is wearing cute/feminine clothing!!! suggestive!, soobin manhandling, mentions of a small reader, reader gets called nicknames (doll, dainty, cute, etc) ♡ A/N: ALRIGHT! this is for my fellow coquette girlies!! raise ur hand if u feel like this kink suits him because 🙈🙈asdfdfkj idk this may be a little ooc of soobin so i apologize in advance.. !! i love this concept sm i was literally biting my knuckles the entire time writing this🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️(in other words someone sedate me) also not proofread teehee

You sat there as cute as can be, your lovely skirt resting against your legs as you sat on the edge of your best friend’s bed. Soobin had invited you over to his apartment to hang out on a particularly boring evening. The room was completely silent, aside from the soft clicking and tapping of the controller in your dainty hands. Soobin was taking a shower but had messaged you to let yourself in if he wasn’t done by the time you arrived. You two had been friends for a good while, so you made yourself at home, kicking off your pretty heels and turning on his PC to play some new rhythm game he had installed.

After a proper few minutes you found yourself comfortably lying on your stomach, elbows propped as you tried to beat Soobin’s high score. Your frilly skirt riding up just slightly enough to show off a little more than you intended. Hearing the door open, you pause the game and look back to Soobin smiling. “Hey, enjoying yourself aren’t we?” he chuckled as he watched you kick your feet with a wide grin. “Yeah, took you long enough in the shower I was dying of boredom!” You teased as he sat on the bed next to you, his eyes lingering over you a bit longer than usual. You were too busy fiddling with the controller to even notice. “Your outfit’s cute today y/n.” Soobin softly mumbled as his fingers traced the lace of your skirt, fingertips almost grazing the exposed skin. You feel yourself shudder and immediately sit up, a nervous smile plays on your lips as you look up at Soobin who was still softly feeling the material. You flush at how his still-damp hair hangs around his handsome face. Even though he wore just a simple white t-shirt and jeans it was still enough to make him insanely attractive. “A-ah thanks! I just got this outfit actually.. ” Your voice beginning to fail you as your best friend looks down at you with a look you’ve never seen on him before. Before you could say anything else, Soobin lifts his large hand and cups your face gently, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You feel yourself wanting to melt into your best friend’s touch. Sure, Soobin wasn’t always that affectionate, but you were both comfortable enough around each other so he had his moments. Then again.. why was he looking at you like that? The way his eyes stared at your pouty lips felt as if he was enticing you to lean into his palm. And you did. “You’re so pretty y’know?.. Like a doll. I feel like.. I could just break you with how small you are.” He whispers and your eyes widen. “Wh- what? What do you m- mean..?” You see a slight blush form on his cheeks as if someone else but him had just said that out loud. Classic Soobin, always speaking his mind without a filter. Did he even have any idea just how this was affecting you right now? “Sorry.. I just.. That slipped out..” he mumbled and his eyes are back on your lips again. Your mind couldn’t think of anything to say in response, your cheeks felt like they were on fire as your hands sat in your lap. You didn’t dare to move an inch. “You’re just such a..” Soobin begins again as he moves the thumb that was caressing your warm cheek down to your soft pink lips. “Dainty girl..” His fingers held your chin so that you were looking up at him. You closed your eyes, breath beginning to shake as you just couldn’t into your best friend’s eyes.

“Will you let me see those pretty eyes y/n?” Soobin’s voice sounds like honey, warm, low, and smooth as he drags his thumb to smear your once-perfect lipgloss slightly. You open your eyes and he’s smiling at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were in a haze. “Atta girl. You listen so well..” He continues moving his thumb, caressing your plump bottom lip. From the way he was smirking anyone could see how he was enjoying this. The way you melt under his touch, it makes him want to ruin your pretty makeup even more. See the tears that stream down your pretty face, see how your eyes and nose get puffy, turning that perfect pink when you cry. “S- Soobin.. my lip-” Your lips were smoothed shut as Soobin’s thumb smeared your lipgloss once more. “See? So easily played with, my whole hand just-” he squeezes your cheeks to prove his point, the color on his fingers now tinting parts of your cheeks. “Can hold your entire little face..” he chuckles quietly. Since when did he speak so condescendingly towards you? It didn’t matter, you secretly loved it. His large hand easily moved around, playing with your face as you stared at him through your pretty lashes. Your heart was pounding at the intimate attention and you found yourself craving more. You squeak as Soobin suddenly places you into his lap, large hands squeezing your waist once you were situated. His movements felt swift yet so careful. “Have to be gentle with you. You’re like a porcelain doll..” You find your breaths becoming more labored from the touch. With every touch he gave you, you felt the fire and intense atmosphere between you grow thicker. Large hands roaming your waist and sides, admiring your outfit. “S’cute..” he chuckles as you lean into his shoulder from embarrassment. “S- Soobin..” You were so flustered over how you felt. You’ve always felt an attraction towards him, but of course, keeping your feelings hidden was the path you chose as you weren’t even sure if he had feelings for you. However, his actions today seem to confirm he feels the same way.

“Pretty girl.. My pretty girl... Letting someone like me move you and touch you however I want..” he cooed as he ran his fingers through your perfectly done hair. Fingers lightly tugging at the ribbons you meticulously tied this morning, just enough so that they threatened to undo themselves. The same way he wanted you to become undone. “If it's you... then- it’s fine binnie..” For Soobin, hearing you say that in his neck ever so softly made his heart swoon. You used that nickname sparingly, only using it whenever you were feeling cheeky. Or whenever you wanted something. It drove him insane. You placed your hands on his chest as he tilted your head back, giving him space for his lips to start hovering over your pretty neck. You were completely under his control. Like he was the puppeteer and you, his cute little puppet for him to admire. Though you didn’t really mind the attention, did you?

You felt your breath hitch as he stayed still, your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of feeling his lips on your skin. You wanted it, needed it. “Please..” you softly whisper and Soobin smirks at your whines. “Does my pretty girl want me to do more?” He questions, voice sounding innocent and sweet but the look on his face was giving a completely different vibe. All you could do was nod in response. “Can my doll use her words for me?”

That was the final straw for you, forget the morality of it all. You nod again “p- please.. I want more..” you pleaded, looking at him with big doe eyes. Soobin’s eyes lingered on your face, the way your lipgloss was smeared across, the flush of your pretty cheeks, the way your lashes were curled to perfection. He was obsessed. You feel him lay you back, his larger body moving over you as his fingers admire the fabric of your outfit. “Mhm, good girl.. Let me treat my pretty doll with the utmost care then.”

#txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smut #soobin smut #txt x reader #soobin x reader #BakeryTreat♡

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astonmartinii · 10 months

Note

hii, can i request an insta au for lando? i don’t have something particular in mind, bit maybe best friends to lovers kinda thing? and their friends teasing them/ being annoyed? <33 love your work!!

best friends 4 ever | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x bff!reader

best friends? lovers? who knows?

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 320,879 others

yourusername: clubbing on a budget 🍒

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user1: where's lando?

user2: yet another post without lando, have they broken up?

user3: how can they be broken up if they aren't together?

user4: why do you people think lando and y/n doing things separately is illegal?

user5: why weren't you at the race?

yourusername: babes i'm just a bartender i do not have the schedule or the finances to just fuck off to saudi arabia for three days sorry xx

user5: you clearly had the weekend off?

yourusername: please refer to my previous statement on my financial standing

yourbff1: who is that stunning woman?

yourusername: u bestie

landonorris: glad you went with outfit choice number one

yourusername: thank you miranda priestly

oscarpiastri: so that's who i could hear you talking to...

yourusername: clubbing outfits are a serious business oscar

oscarpiastri: serious enough for a three hour call?

yourusername: YES.

landonorris: YES.

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 902,894 others

landonorris: mood before the race v after the race, see you next year jeddah 🇸🇦

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user6: what driving a tractor does to a motherfucker

yourusername: what's a performance where a man is having the worst time of his life but looks sexy doing it?

landonorris: beauty is pain

yourusername: then you must be suffering

user7: mr and miss we're not dating flirting up a storm in the comments as per

carlossainz55: maybe focus less on modelling and more on driving

yourusername: so no more ferrari thirst traps?

carlossainz55: damn i forgot that coming for lando means dealing with you

yourusername: meet me in the parking lot chilli

landonorris: y/n is like my little chihuahua so come for me, watch your ankles

user8: do they think we're dumb?

danielricciardo: ah the classic post mclaren snooze, if only you had your cuddle buddy

landonorris: i know you miss me mate but i'll cuddle you in melbourne

danielricciardo: ok. not what i meant. but i'll take the free cuddles

user9: so he was defo referring to y/n, right?

daniel3.jpeg

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 708,655 others

tagged: yourusername, landonorris, heidiberger

daniel3.jpeg: any wagon need a third wheel, i'm practically a professional now?

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user12: confirmation? this is confirmation, right? RIGHT?

yourusername: i gave you that banjo in good faith daniel and this is how you repay me?

daniel3.jpeg: i appreciate her !!!! thank you for my lessons, but these are cute so i will not be deleting sorry not sorry

yourusername: ur right we are serving

user13: life is just not fair

user14: official cause of death: the third slide

landonorris: how relegated to just an arm, i see how it is daniel

yourusername: you are literally the definition of pookie bear and cutieful in the first pic

landonorris: i'm going to need you to never say those words ever again

yourusername: that's not what you said last night ...

landonorris: you're right i am pookie bear

user15: actual pics + comments = y'all can no longer say i'm being delusional.

f1wagsupdates

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tagged: landonorris

f1wagsupdates: lando norris spotted on his boat in monaco with an unknown woman. the pair looked flirty and spent the whole day together alone on the boat. norris' rumoured girlfriend y/n y/ln was back in the u.k. where she works as a bar tender. what do you think?

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user18: i'm so confused rn

user19: i know we never had concrete confirmation but my heart is broken for y/n right now

user20: i don't want to jump to any conclusions, men and women can be friends, there's nothing in these photos that suggest anything more than friendship

user21: they're literally holding hands in the second pic

user20: i hold my friends hands every time i jump in the water doesn't mean i'm with them

user22: but the pic in danny's post .... i don't even know anymore

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 356,823 others

yourusername: food will never leave me

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user25: so like is this a dig after those pics of lando and the random girl?

user26: i know this is sad and all, but that kebab looks banging please tell us where you got it

yourusername: camden market babes

yourbff1: sexy girl, sexy food and sexy photography

yourusername: best photographer i know

user27: SHADE LANDP.JPEG YOU WERE NEVER THAT GIRL

landonorris: camden kebabs without me? offended.

yourusername: doing a lot of things without each other recently.

maxfewtrell: could've at least invited me i love that place

user28: oof. i feel like i shouldn't be watching this

lando.jpeg

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,305,066 others

tagged: yourusername

lando.jpeg: appreciation post for my bestest friend forever and the love of my life. i didn't want to give any attention to the rumours going around so i thought i'd just let you know i'm in love, i've been in love for years and will be in love with her for the rest of my life.

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user29: okay, now the confirmation is here, idk what to do with myself

user30: i survived the y/n x lando slow burn

yourusername: i love you too bob

lando.jpeg: i love you more, can't wait to see you

yourusername: i'm never letting you leave again

user31: so like you're gonna deny being all up close and personal with a random girl on the boat

landonorris: not that i owe you people anything, that girl is my cousin, she was visiting monaco and i showed her around. but it shouldn't matter, you guys don't know me personally and stop assuming things about athletes' personal lives.

yourusername: what he said.

carlossainz55: FINALLY

danielricciardo: i literally don't know how much longer i could've kept this a secret

oscarpiastri: i think we deserve a reward

charles_leclerc: i second this

maxverstappen1: i third this

maxfewtrell: i fourth this

yourusername: alright, alright we get it

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 607,845 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: i guess we owe our parents £50 xx

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user32: bro this shit has me straight up crying THIS AINT EVEN MY RELATIONSHIP

oscarpiastri: you guys are cute i'll give you that

yourusername: teammate stamp of approval get it @landonorris

oscarpiastri: i think you guys got that after i walked in on you after silverstone

landonorris: our bad lol

user33: this reads like a fanfic but they're so cute

maxverstappen1: awww lando was so cute in that first pic, what went wrong?

yourusername: u and kelly look like siblings, don't come for us

maxverstappen1: u got it

landonorris: i love you fairy princess

yourusername: i love you racer boy

note: enjoyyyyyyyyyyyy. i originally wrote this a while back but it deleted itself when my laptop had a meltdown. so this is a bit diff but i hope you like it anyway !! xx

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris insta au #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

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cosmicpearlz · 6 days

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sweet confessions

summary: in which jude feels the urge to confess his feelings for you before it’s too late.

pairing: jude bellingham x actress!reader

a/n: i haven’t written something in lord knows how long butttt i can’t stop thinking about being friends to lovers with jude. honestly, i can’t stop thinking about jude like what a man lol. anyways enjoy loves <3

it all started when you got a call from your agent about getting the role for a movie in madrid. you were over the moon about it. the movie was a classic love story about a woman falling in love with someone who also happened to be on vacation in spain and the hardships they face being that they are from two different countries. of course, it was very cheesy but it meant you got to work luca guadagnino. he had been one of your favorite directors and you’ve been itching to work with him. another big plus was that archie madekwe played your love interest. literally one of your best friends after working with him during a different project.

luca wanted all of the cast and crew to loosen up after the first two tables reads, so he took everyone to a real madrid match.

“archie, i’m not gonna lie to you but have you seen the players? specifically, number five,” you dramatically fanned yourself while taking your seat next to the boy.

“ew, keep it in your pants y/n. you’ve been talking about him since we’ve been in madrid and it’s only been three days. ‘oh archie he’s so cute’ ‘you think i’ll be able to talk to him?’,” he mocks you with a slight laugh. you playfully slapped his shoulder.

“i do not talk like that.”

“yes you do.”

“no i don’t.”

“shut up the match is starting,” you stick your tongue out at him because he refused to give you the last word.

your eyes were glued to the players that walked out. quickly spotting the golden boy that you developed a crush on in the matter of three days. jude bellingham stood with a smile adorned on his face. maybe it was the fact that you guys were the same age and you were a little delusional that something could spark between the two of you. even if it only meant being friends.

“whew, that was a really good game.”

“you’re only saying that because jude made the winning goal,” you pushed archie’s shoulder and pouted.

“you’re such a bully. that is not the reason and-“

“is he coming over here?”

your head snapped to where archie’s gaze was and yes. jude was making his way across the pitch to where you guys were seated. he gave you a warm smile before standing right in front of you.

“hi.”

“uh, hi?”

“i’m jude,” he held his hand out for you to shake with a cheeky smile. you smiled back and shook his hand. your hand fitting perfectly into his.

“i know who you are silly but i’m y/n.”

“i know who you are silly,” he repeats what you said with a teasing tone.

“i’ve never seen you before. well of course in movies but not here. are you here for work?”

it baffles you on how easy it was for him to make conversation. your eyes widened and looked to archie for help but to your disappointment he was gone. that british bastard.

“yeah! our director wanted us to enjoy a day out together before we start filming. plus, this is my first time in madrid actually,” jude smiles while maintaining eye contact with you.

“you need a tour guide? i got some of my favorite places i can show you.”

little did you know, it would be the start to a great friendship with the footballer.

“cut! we are done for the day. same time tomorrow, thank you everyone.”

you and archie shared a high five finishing a complex scene. it was the particular scene where your characters are arguing about the vacation almost ending. resulting to a passionate love confession with a hungry kiss.

“your boyfriend is here,” archie whispered into your ear making you push him away from you.

“shut up, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“yet.”

you choose to ignore your ignorant best friend. giving him a quick hug goodbye and rushing towards jude, who already has his arms open for you. you crash into him and he responds immediately by wrapping his arms around you.

it’s been five months since he offered to be your tour guide but he ended up being so much more. he became a staple piece in your life with such a short amount of time.

“hello darling.”

“hi jude. boy am i glad to see you, i’m so hungry. let’s get food,” you feel his chest vibrating from the laughter he gave out.

“oh wow, i come from training to see you and all you can think about is food? what am i? copped liver?”

“well duh, what else are you here for?” you pulled away slightly to look up at him, trying to give him your best straight face. it failed when he started tickling your side successfully causing you to laugh and slap his hands away.

“let’s feed the princess, shall we?”

jude never failed to send butterflies fluttering in your stomach. you wouldn’t dare ruin your friendship with him just because you gained a crush on him. it’s his fault though. all of the nicknames and gestures he does makes your head spin.

“we shall, but i have to stop by my trailer to put up my stuff,” you giggled and lead him to the trailers. jude immediately throws his self onto your bed laying down.

“man if this is what being an actor is like, i might have to try it.”

“you in acting? oh please, you have a better chance being in the production crew,” he gasped loudly while placing his hand on his chest.

“you are cruel. i can totally being an actor if i wanted to,” causing you to playfully scoff.

“yeah right and i can be a footballer.”

“now you’re taking the piss.”

you join him on the bed, choosing to lay on top of him being that his taller frame takes up the whole bed. it wasn’t unnatural for you two to end up in positions like this. it felt natural and certainly was comfortable. jude wraps an arm around your waist and you wrap yours around his neck.

the boy hoped you couldn’t feel the way his heartbeat sped up. unbeknownst to you, he fully reciprocated your feelings. sometimes it scared him how fast he fell for you. the whole reason he walked up to you in the first place is because he wanted an excuse to talk to the pretty girl that watched the football match.

“comfortable are we?”

“yes, you’re like a warm teddy bear.”

“i thought you were hungry.”

“it can wait.”

“y/n.”

“jude.”

jude felt you snuggle into him more and suddenly he felt the need to tell you his feelings. your warm body pressed against his and it still couldn’t stop the intense warmth that fluttered in his stomach, crawling all the way up to his chest. he grabs your waist firmly and sits the both of you up.

“hey, i was comfortable laying there,” you gave him a pout. all he think of was kissing the pout off your face. jude gazes at you with a small smile suddenly becoming shy.

“can i tell you something?”

“anything.”

“promise it won’t ruin our friendship? i dunno if i can deal with losing you completely.”

“stop being silly, you’ll never lose me jude,” you grabbed his hand and squeezed it, encouraging him to talk to you.

“i like you.”

“what?”

“i like you so much that it hurts to not call you my girlfriend. you’re like the sunshine that radiates through the widow early in the morning. you make me unbelievably happy with your presence. i know you’re going to leave soon but we could do long distance. i’d do it for you in a heartbeat if it-“

“jude relax,” you lay your hand on his face, softly rubbing his cheek.

“i like you too. so so much,” the once nervous boy quickly gained a growing smile.

“really?”

“oh god yes,” jude properly sits you into his lap, pressing your bodies closer together. you guys were practically nose to nose at this point. not that either of you minded .

“can i kiss you?” his whisper fell upon your lips.

“i’d be really mad if you didn’t.”

in a split second, his lips were on yours. a long awaited kiss. one of his hands held the back of your neck to try and push you closer if possible. passion flowing between the two of you as your tongues battle over dominance. you couldn’t stop your smile as you kissed him.

jude playfully nips at your bottom lip before placing two pecks to your lips and then pulling away. he didn’t go far as he rested his forehead on yours.

“fuck, i might be in love with you baby.”

before you could even reply, your stomach growled leading you to burst out into laughter. jude follows suit in laughter right behind you. he kisses the side of your head and stands up, holding a hand out for you. you smiled while sliding your hand into his. he intertwined your fingers with his and pulls you out from your spot.

“for the record, i might be in love with you as well,” you whispered with your spare hand raised to your lips as if you were telling him a secret only he can hear. jude kisses your forehead with a knowing smirk.

“who wouldn’t be in love with me.”

“see now you’re the one taking the piss.”

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine

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wonryllis · 3 months

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previous poll won fic: watermelon sugar ( jake )

TEASER!!!

GOT MY EYES ON YOU (revamp) · heeseung

strangers to lovers classical trope, college au, popular frat guy with quiet girl trope, quite literally only has eyes for his girl, loves to make her heart race tropes kinda thing. lotss of fluff, smut, some sprinkles of angst and a happy ending. typical popular frat & basketball captain!heeseung with his shy and inexperienced!angel. the always chased after guy chasing someone for the first time. the 'fuck i didn't know i got the hots for someone like that' trope. my writing was not that good then so will be heavily revamping this series into a oneshot(new scenes) with probably the third installment included. like 15k word vomit probably??

DADDY ISSUES: MY LITTLE GIRL (revamp) · jay

neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, smut, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his doll!girl, heavy on daddy issues and dark topics alike. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. did i mention it starts with jay babysitting you? kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. first part was 16k so will include the next part and make it a oneshot but if it gets like 25k-30k then i'll probably do it in two parts.

CALL ME DESTINY (new) · jake

an online to offline love au, loosely based off of the cdrama love o2o, college setting, smut, literally tooth rooting fluff and crack, angst... what's that? dumb x dumber couple with their fed up friends, slight misunderstandings and miscommunications but it's just full of crack no hard feelings. flirty nerd!jake with his online game mentor!crush. know each other online and offline but don't know it's the same person. the 'im crazy about her but i don't have the guts to tell her' trope. they're just so over each and everyone can see it but them, about 30-40% done. hmm i got no idea how long it'll be maybe 10k or more not sure.

#☆ ! polls #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake smut

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macbcth · 8 days

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what your favourite dunmeshi ship says about you

farcille: you're classic, you make sense, you like to see the lesbians winning and also you're a bit of a monster fucker: you may or may not specifically have a wing kink

chilshi: you like your men hairy and fat, also you are not immune to panty-shot propaganda, your love language is acts of service

chilaios: you have a size kink

labru: you would literally settle for any ship as long as it's mlm even when there is wonderful, incredible yuri happening, you think character foils should fuck

laimar: your favourite trope is friends to lovers, also you like to see the bisexuals winning, you're also.. what the poets might call.... weird

marchil: your favourite trope is enemies to lovers, your love language is banter, and you're the kind of person who says 'i can fix him' far too often

kabumisu: your ship could burn down the world and violate the geneva convention and you would still call both of them babygirl, also you like angst

laios x monsters: you like tentacle porn

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ririglow · 1 year

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I Wanna Be Yours | Joe Burrow

pairings : joe burrow x reader

word count:16k+

genre : best friends to lovers

synopsis: joe has been keeping his distance from you , upon discovering why your friendship changes forever.

warnings: reader being totally oblivious, mentions of slight body dysmorphia, reader has 🧚🏽‍♀️beauty marks🧚🏽‍♀️, Joe being an asshole for like a second, best friends doing couple shit, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), overstimulation, a rushed ending (literally wrote it at 3am),

A/n: finally letting my baby I've been keeping since July 2022 out, it's been well, may you find success 😭 enjoy yall

From Joey:

Hey, I'm skipping out on movie night. Sorry.

You stare down at your phone with a frown, after re-reading the text for the third time. Making sure you were reading things clearly. Your gaze reflects an aggressive glare. Are you fucking kidding me? He's bailed out on you yet again, you wouldn't be so annoyed if this was his first time canceling. However, recently, Joe has been clearly avoiding you at whatever cost. He has become particularly standoffish with you lately, giving you nearly every excuse in the book when you offer to hang out. If it's not working out, it's a team meeting, and when that's not an option- he says he's "too tired". His excuses were aplenty.

Joe has many attributes, but being a good liar isn't one of them. You knew something is wrong. Feeling very offended, you eventually begged him to hang out with you one day. After all, it's been a while since you two actually spent some time together, a perfect opportunity. But as soon as he showed up at your condo, your plan backfires. The plan for the day you arranged turned into Joe purposely busying himself away from you like the goddamn plague. Giving you halfhearted responses, making sure his attention was everywhere but you the entire time he was there while giving you the cold shoulder, in spite of what? You have no clue. And that is what's been killing you, the reason you're being utterly disregarded is entirely baseless.

That horrid hangout was last month, and since then you haven't seen and hardly talked to each other up till yesterday when you swallowed down the grudge you were planning on holding and invited him over for a movie night. Something you used to do frequently when you were kids.

Swallowing down the anger and hurt, a moment of worry comes through. If it was any other friend giving you nothing but a buoyancy of discourteousness you would've reciprocated the same energy. Without hesitation. However, this was no ordinary friend. This is your best friend, someone you have known ever since he was merely an awkward preteen that had an obsession with Nickelodeon and Disney. The first and only child you ever knew was when you first moved to Plains Ohio when you were just nine years old. It has always been you and him, the classic two peas in a pod. He saw you pass through every milestone, from having your first crush, to your first experience of heartbreak, and the first time you had fallen and broken a bone on your body at the local neighborhood playground which resulted in eleven-year-old Joe carrying you all the way home crying.

Just as he was there for you, you were there for him. Throughout all high school, you've been to every single one of his games, basketball or football. When he suffered through his drought at Ohio State you were there giving him encouragement and support. And when the opportunity came for Joe to take his talent down to Louisiana at LSU, you were right there. As well as taking multiple trips to games to support him, as you juggle between school and extracurricular activities. His career progressed into the NFL, and you sat right beside him on his parent's couch cheering him on. You were always there.

Reading his text over yet again you type out a response.

To: Joey

you've really been a terrible friend lately…if there's something wrong you can tell me

You watched as the "delivered" text turned into "read at 8:30pm". It wasn't long before the three grey dots appeared showing you that he was typing out a response. Sitting up from your slouched position on the couch, your heart race increases as you imagine all the possible responses to his reasoning for being such a shitty friend.

This better be a good fucking reason, you thought watching the gray dots appear and reappear again as if he was typing out a whole novel worth. You clicked your phone off and placed it beside you, not wanting to look at the screen any longer, hoping that it will somehow make his response come faster. You wish that he was face to face so you could take a read at his expression, maybe he'll feel guilty that he's treating you like this or angry as he expresses what you might've done to make him act this way.

Eventually, your phone buzzes, and a sigh leaves you as you muster up the courage to open the message. And when you do, your mouth slackens.

From Joey <3

That's certainly not the response you were looking forward to, did he really just send you a one-word—not even a whole word—a one-letter text? Despite being absent in your presence it felt like he had landed the biggest slap on your face, followed by a simple "fuck you". The analogy was a bit drastic, sure but so was his response. It was deceptively simple, though it tells you a lot.

Your finger itches to hit the call button and give him an earful of scornful remarks. But you decided against it, knowing it would only add insult to injury he's clearly got an issue with you, and instead of being the one who does the chasing, you're going to let him come to you.

"Fuck him." You grumbled, shutting off your phone and tossing it aside with a little more force than usual as if you were imagining it hitting his face. Letting out a pitiful huff you look at the variety of snacks you had gotten scattered on the coffee table, including your best friend's favorites.

Without giving him another thought, you reluctantly grabbed the bowl of popcorn and turned on the TV. Your movements were sluggish and unintentionally nonchalant, the curiosity was still nagging in the back of your mind.

What the hell did I do to him?

"I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong," Mrs. Burrow assures you, a ground rake in her hands as she smooths out the soil bed. You stood in the middle of the miniature garden surrounded by vigorous plants, fruits, and vegetables. After your somber movie night two days ago, your curiosity only grew about Joe's unorthodox behavior. Despite telling yourself you weren't going to go on a wild goose chase for him.

Truth be told, you had too much of an empathic nature about you to give him the cold shoulder right back. As much as you wanted to, that was simply not your character.

You were his best friend, someone with whom he can tell everything whether it was good or bad. It felt very defective to brush him off aside not knowing if he was undergoing something that was truly difficult. To have a better insight along with some real needed advice, you decide to unleash your complications on Mrs. Burrow, his mom. Hoping to have a clear-cut understanding of what's been going on with her son.

"Has he contacted you since?" She adds, pausing a moment to stick the tool into the ground leaning against it, with one hand on her hip.

You bit your lip, looking off to the side. "He tried to,"

"What does that mean?" She furrowed her eyebrows curiously.

"He texted me yesterday morning and I left it on read." You said almost shamefully as you realize how immature it appears. But you honestly didn't care. If he was going to act petty with you for whatever reason, you were going to do the same with him. "It was only a Spongebob meme, but that's his way of trying to act like everything is okay." You were sure of it.

"You kids are truly something else, I don't like seeing you guys like this." Mrs. Burrow shook her head in disapproval.

"He's the one who started it!" You exclaim, feeling a sense of deja vu of the time when you and Joe were kids and would point the finger at each other about who broke her favorite vase. "Sorry, I'm probably putting you in a really awkward position right now." You said sheepishly, making your way to the small two-person table and taking a seat with a sigh.

She followed suit taking a seat on the opposite side of you, the rake still in her hands.

"Honey, you're fine. This is just all so unsuspected." She says.

And you could see why, you and Joe hardly ever had any problems, sure you guys would bicker about something every now and then. But it has never come down to this where one is being hostile towards the other, you could remember the times you were mad at him for no less than two days, let alone have the ability to be disdainful for weeks like he's been with you.

That's what hurts the most, him allowing himself to be distant without a care in the world, acting as if though it doesn't affect him. Here you were mind going crazy about what he's possibly going through, yet it seems to be he doesn't give two-shits about how you're feeling and concerns right now.

"I don't know what to do," You said, sounding completely defeated, leaning your chin in your palm.

"Maybe you should go talk to him, face to face?" She suggests.

"Yeah, I guess that wouldn't be too terrible." You agreed reluctantly, that had been your next move even though a part of you wanted him to come to you instead.

"So," Mrs. Burrow said with a smile. "I hear you're dating someone."

You let your face light up in surprise at her abrupt mention of your dating life, automatically knowing who informed her.

"His name is Malik." You told her though you're more for certain that she already knew that.

She let out a hum, before looking at you seriously. "Is he treating you right? I heard he's a bit of a playboy."

You wanted to roll your eyes, of course, Joe ranted off his hatred for Malik, saying the same shit, yes Malik had his reputation as a playboy back in high school. However, years passed and a lot has changed so much that you didn't even recognize him when you ran into each other at the grocery store, the presumptuous and egoistic high school boy you once knew was now replaced with an amiable and responsible man. Yet you couldn't get Joe to see that, no matter how much you pleaded and begged for him to hear you out about Malik he simply wouldn't listen.

You still remember the day you told him about the first date you were going on with Malik, angry was an understatement describing how Joe reacted.

Multiple curses fell from your lips, as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror struggling to wrap your thick and luxuriant hair into a neat ponytail. Due to how voluminous your hair is, your hands were insignificant trying to grasp every single strand. This has been a complication with you for as long as you could remember, when your hair is not tamed you would always need a second pair of hands to assist. And those hands would always lead to,

"Joey!" You called out, letting your arms flop down to your sides in defeat. He was supposed to have a lunch date with his friends who were bringing their gfs/wives, not wanting to feel like the oddball he invited you to keep him company. You were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago, and you just knew if you kept taking a chance with your hair it would be hours.

Grasping your brush and two ecstatic hairbands, you left the bathroom.

"Yeah?" His voice sounded muffled coming from all the way downstairs.

You skipped down the stairs and made your way into the living room seeing him sitting on the edge of the sofa, legs spread, with his phone in hand, eyes focused on the screen.

"Can you help?" You asked, holding up your hands which held the brush and hairband.

Almost immediately he pulls his attention away from his phone to look at you with a small smile. "Sure, c'mere."

Your heart skipped a beat at his attention towards you, you made your way towards him without saying a word, you handed him the brush and hair band before plopping down on the floor in between his legs. His thick thighs caged you in, barley being covered due to the pink shorts he wore, you were so close to him the scent of his cologne filled your senses.

This was a bad idea, you thought, feeling him carefully brush your hair. Relishing in his gentle touch, you had been in the position many times before with him helping you with your hair, why does it feel different now? The answer is, In those times you didn't stupidly develop a crush on him.

As much as you tried to ignore it, those thousands of butterflies swarming around inside you couldn't be stopped. Or the hopelessly long gazes you found yourself giving him when he wasn't looking. It was incredibly impossible not to fall for him. He's so sweet, considerate, understanding, yet so complex in many things as well as being extremely overprotective. But you didn't care, he wouldn't be Joe if he didn't have all those aspects about him.

A small sigh of content escapes you before you could stop it, due to how engrossed you were into thinking about the man that was generously helping out in doing your hair.

He paused and set the brush aside before grasping both of your cheeks, tilting your head back so you could look at him in an upside down Spiderman kiss way.

"You good?" He asks, his thumb rubbing by your hairline.

A shiver went down your spine at the seemingly loving gesture. Sometimes you wonder if Joe ever felt an ounce of the same feelings you have for him. But then you remember Joe has always been affectionate and gentle towards you, it wouldn't be right for you to try and make it into something that it's not.

Giving him a weak smile you nodded your head that was currently being cradled in his large hands. "I'm fine."

"C'mon you can tell me." His eyes twinkled with curiosity at your feeble response.

No you can't, you really couldn't not without dying from shame and embarrassment.

"Really I'm fine" you say , looking deep into his blue eyes a few strands of hair fell down his forehead from him leering over you, your fingers itching to brush it away.

Joe starts to open his mouth to say something when the phone that was in the front pocket of your shorts began ringing. He removes his hands from your face and settles them back into your hair as you retrieve your phone.

You looked at the caller ID and noticed it said 'Malik' almost immediately you hurriedly pressed ignore in guilt. Here you were sitting in between the legs of your best friend who you have a huge crush on, while the guy that was taking you out on Friday night was calling you.

"Who's Malik?" Joe asks with a familiar caution in his voice.

Oh boy, you knew a wave of excessive protection was headed your way. Along with some serious interrogation, after your last not-so-pretty breakup two years ago almost every boy you ever showed interest since then Joe manages to scare them off. These days you won't dare mention a guy that you were seeing in wary of Joe's overprotective tendencies.

"Malik, ya know from high school? I ran into him at the store two weeks ago, um, we've been talking since," You trailed off, noticing the brushing of your hair was getting slower and slower. You could practically hear the gears turning inside his head. " He wants to take me out on Friday."

"Malik as in, Malik Jack-ass?!" He exclaimed, stopping his movements.

You glanced over your shoulder, his expression was hard to read but you could tell the bits of shock coming from it.

"It's Jackson, and yes." You say, not wanting to refer him to the nickname you and Joe came up with in high school.

"What the hell are you doing talking to him?" The wrinkles between his eyebrows appeared as he looked at you with confusion and annoyance.

"Because I can? Look, he's not the same Malik from high school okay? He's really changed." You explained.

He lets out a scoff. "And you know that from the amount of time you've been talking to him, which is?"

You hated how he made sense.

"Two weeks," You mumble out, watching Joe throw his hand up in the air in exaggeration. "But, I can just tell he's different now! If he was the same guy back then, I wouldn't last a day talking to him."

"You don't think he still has those same qualities ? People just don't get rid of that shit, that's usually the type of person that they are!" His voice was heavy with fury and his eyes were narrowed. Joe always has a protective effect over you, but you've never seen him express this much anger over a guy you were talking to.

"Whatever Joe, it's not cool to judge people from their past, especially when they were in high school!" You shot back, turning your body back around prompting him to continue with your hair.

"I'm not being judgemental I'm simply taking into consideration the way he's treated girls so he won't do the same to you." He gathers your hair a little roughly and tight forming it into a high ponytail causing you to hold on to his bare thigh for stability as you wince.

"Ow! Take it easy," You scolded, swatting him on the leg. "And he won't!" You said after he was finished, turning back around to face him, still sitting in between his thighs.

"How would you know? You're not going on the date." He responded, you gave him a look of bewilderment .

Did you hear that right?

"Excuse me?" You questioned, eyebrows being raised in shock.

"You heard me, I'd be the worst fucking friend ever to let you set yourself up for disaster like that." His jaw was clenched, and you noted the way he said the word 'friend' almost as if he was disgusted to call himself that which confused you a whole lot more.

"You're not acting like my friend, you're straight up acting like my goddamn father right now! Which is so fucking annoying let me do what I want to do Joe, I'm not helpless." You huffed out, due to you being only two years younger than him for as long as you could remember Joe looked at you as if you weren't responsible or competent . He had his reasons to think that, back when you were younger however you needed him to know that you were twenty-three years old, very much capable of handling your own situations and relationships.

Joe looks at you for what seems like forever with mixed emotions, before letting out a humorless laugh and throwing up his hands as if he was backing off. "Okay, you got it, I'll be sure to refrain from saying "I fucking told you so" when shit doesn't work out the way you wanted it to."

And he was right, things hadn't been working out the way you wanted to, but Malik wasn't the problem—far from it actually, it was you, for the longest you'd been trying to force the feelings you have for Joe to disappear and create something with Malik. Which ultimately made you try to walk in a relationship with only for the convenience it brings. You were content for the time being but you weren't truly over the moon or jumping with joy. All because you couldn't shake off the devotion you have for Joe. In the short time of five months with Malik you've found yourself thinking about him.

Every.Single.Time

Whenever Malik pulls you into a hug, you couldn't help but to think about Joe's much longer and stronger ones being wrapped around you. When he goes to give you a kiss, you imagine the lips you've been itching to taste for years, being pressed against yours. There was no way around it, and you felt completely horrible knowing Malik didn't deserve any of it. Which is why you ended things with him two weeks ago.

You inform Mrs. Burrow that you were currently single and weren't seeing him anymore. Her face contorts in surprise, with a bit of joy?

"Oh dear, what happened? He didn't do anything, did he?" She asks with concern

"No, it just didn't feel right, I guess." Your words come out in a mumble of shame, knowing you ended a potentially good relationship with someone due to your overwhelming love you have for your best friend who's currently ignoring you.

"Hm, wasn't the kind of guy that you're going for?" She says with a knowing smile, you felt as if her words had a double meaning to them or maybe your detection was off.

"No," You let out a sigh. " He wasn't."

"Does Joe know?" She asked curiously.

"No, don't think he'll care too much anyway." You shrugged.

"You don't know that, it'll probably make his day." She waves her hand dismissively, causing your eyebrows to knit together.

At first, her words confused you, why would Joe be happy? There was no reason for him to be before your realization hits you like a truck. You remember Joe's off Standish behavior when you first brought Malik around him, it was at a small get-together party hosted by your mutual friend from high school, and his displeasure went unnoticed by everyone. You thought it was just his socially awkward persona, but now you are looking back at all the times his mood went black whenever Malik was in his presence. Now that you are in deep thought about it, you realize that the whole time you were with Malik Joe was slowly distancing himself from you.

Was he still holding his animosity towards your decision to date Malik?

"I assume you'll be able to make it this weekend though right?" She says, breaking you away from your thoughts.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's going on this weekend?"

"The trip to Hocking Hills," She said. "Joe told me you wouldn't be able to make it because you made plans with Malik."

"I'll try to make it." You told her, depending on how your visit with Joe would go.

After chatting with Mrs. Burrow for a couple of minutes you finally said your goodbyes and made your way to your car. As you drive down the familiar street of Joe's neighborhood, in preparation for how this unsuspected visit from you will go. You couldn't help but feel nervous, not knowing what the outcome will be. Eventually, you made it to his luxurious townhouse, as you parked behind his Porsche in the driveway you notice an unfamiliar car parked in front of the lawn with the engine running, when you got out and walked up the gravel walkway you glance at the green neon lights in the windshield, squinting your eyes you realize the word 'uber' is branded inside the car.

As you neared the entrance of the home, you went to lift up your hand to knock on the door. But before you could do that, the door swung open revealing not only a shirtless Joe but a girl next to him who made you do a double take due to the fact she was a girl you didn't think Joe would go for, she's a girl who looks just like you.

The sight has you completely baffled, she has your exact physique, along with the same type of full hair, and the same skin complexion. The only thing you notice that's different is her facial features, which helped with noticeable botox.

Definitely a instagram model, you thought eyes dancing around her entire physique. Her own eyes looked you up and down condescending.

"Did I come at a bad time?" You asked taking a quick glance at Joe noticing his arm wrapped around the girl's waist.

"No you're fine." Joe clears his throat before saying. "This is-"

"Abby! My name is Abby" The girl interrupts give you smug smile as she offers her hand.

You took another look at Joe before bringing your attention to Abby grasping her hand with a tense smile. "Y/n, nice to meet you."

"I didn't know, you were coming over" Joe spoke, his voice laced with surprise and his face burned red as if he'd been caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar.

"Yeah, thought I'd pop up to see how you were doing." You cut your eye at him as you gave him a sarcastic smile.

Abby clears her throat looking between you two, more specifically you as she takes note of your tensed expression as you glare at the man beside her.

"Well, um, I'm gonna head out." Abby spoke, sensing the tension, she turned to Joe and gave him a sly smile. "Call me?"

He struggles to look at her as he replies."I will stay safe."

Abby proceeds to walk out giving you a subtle nod as you watch her walk down the walkway and into the backseat of the Uber, when the car door closes you turn to face Joe with a raised eyebrow.

"What's that look?" He asks as you step inside, closing the door behind you.

"Nothing, just surprising your dipping your toe into something new." You said turning around to face him, taking in his disheveled appearance. His hair was slightly messy with a few curls dropping down, and his sweatpants hung low. Before you slipped into the depths of a salivating horn ball, you quickly looked away. "Or should I say your dick?"

Joe let out a breathless chuckle, running his hand over his hair multiple times. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" You mocked, Joe rolled his eyes at your childish answer as he stepped away from the doorway. "The real question is, what's up with your attitude lately?" You follow him out of the foyer and into the living room, where you spot two empty wine glasses. With a frown you turned your attention elsewhere, hating the fact that it was more likely when you were sitting watching horrible movies all night by yourself, Joe was accompanying someone else as you drowned in sorrow from his absence.

"Nothing, I've just been busy." He says looking everywhere but your face as he grabs the glasses from the coffee table and heads to the kitchen.

"With Abby?" You say, leaning your forearms against the island counter as you watch him place the glasses in the sink. "Is that why you're acting like this?" You questioned again, You couldn't help the bitterness in your tone, from jealousy and anger.

From all the years you've known Joe, you know that he likes to keep his relationships private, and behind closed doors. He has a history of withholding his relationship status for the longest until he suddenly pops up with a girl on his arm randomly. To this day he wouldn't gossip about any girl that he takes interest in, he'd rather keep it to himself. Displaying his romantic life with anyone for Joe was a no-go.

"Acting like what? and no, she's just a friend." He responds, rinsing the glasses. His back was turned to you, showing a clear view of his toned muscular shoulder blades with faint red scratch marks. You managed to force yourself to look away, automatically knowing that his definition of her being a "friend" meant that her role is a casual hookup.

"A "friend" who you ditched your real friend for?" You questioned shooting daggers at the back of his head, before adding. "Your best friend actually, who had to spend her Friday night alone."

"Is that what this visit is about?" He asked turning around while letting out a small huff when he noticed the small glare upon your pretty features, ignoring the way how cute your nose scrunched up or your soft lips form into a pout.

"Yes! amongst other things, I want to get clear with you." You answered, relaxing your hostile stare.

He let out a hum briefly looking you up and down before saying. "What is it?"

You stood up straighter fiddling with your car keys in hand. "Are you still mad at me for dating Malik? Is that why you've been trying to be distant?"

The curiosity in you peaked more as you watched him draw back, his demeanor appearing to be flabbergasted, while he battled with himself to give you an answer. You wonder if he was conflicted between telling the truth or giving you a bold face lie.

"No, I'm not mad about your dating life. You are your own person. It's not my place to have a say about who you chose to have in your life." He finally says, after a couple minutes of silence. "You're happy, that's all that matters."

You laughed sarcastically. "You know, that would be so touching if it were true."

"It is the truth!"

"If it is, then why are you being so shitty towards me?" You pressed.

"I have not. You're being ridiculous."

"No, you are. You canceled on me yet again!"

Joe rolls his eyes. "Me canceling your plan to hangout automatically makes me a shitty person? Really?"

"No but doing it consistently and purposely makes you one." You said not understanding how can he not see what you were coming from.

"Oh that's rich coming from you." He chuckles as he shook his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"How many times have you canceled out on me to make plans with Malik? Do you see me coming into your home calling you a "shitty person" ? No! So cut all of this bullshit out!" His voice is raised and you could see redness creeping upon his neck.

He was getting angry.

"Are you serious? I have never stood you up for Malik it was always work-related." You look at him in disbelief before chuckling." Every time you find a way to bring him up, that just goes to show me you are acting like this because of him."

For some reason you didn't want to tell him you ended things with Malik. The fact he was willing to be mad at you for your choice to date him and neglect you because of it has you pissed.

He threw his hands up in frustration while letting out a deep sigh. "I'm not doing this with you."

"Doing what?"

"Having an argument. Because I called off on a stupid movie night." He furrows his eyebrows as he stares down at you with annoyance. "Don't you have a boyfriend to do that with any way or was he too busy balls deep in another chick to care?"

You felt a deep ache in your stomach as the words leave his mouth. You were hurt for two reasons: him calling your movie night "stupid" especially since you went all out for it buying his favorite snacks and the fact he couldn't see that you really wanted to spend time with him. Not Malik. Him the man who you're really in love with.

"What's really stupid is that you neglect me because you hate Malik so much!" This time your voice was raised as you glare at him.

"I already told you that's not true I've been busy!" He yells running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Bullshit!" You shouted in return before trying to calm yourself. "Honestly I better go before I say something I regret later."

Joe scoffs while shrugging. "You know where the door is."

You bit the inside your cheek resisting the urge to reach over the counter wrapping your hands around his neck. However, you were never a violent person and couldn't imagine putting your hands on your best friend. So instead without giving him a glance you snatch your keys from the counter muttering under your breath "I hope Abby gave you crabs"

"What did you say?" He asked pushing himself away from the counter. You purposely didn't respond knowing it was one of his biggest pet peeves. As you proceeded to head towards the front door, you could hear his footsteps trailing after you.

"Fine you don't have to tell me, just know I won't be answering your calls or texts!" He shouted after you.

You laughed sarcastically. "Oh what will I ever do without talking to you."

"That's funny considering that's the exact reason you're here right now" He said smugly.

There is no doubt that he has you there, but you cannot allow him to have the final word.

"Unfortunately Malik was unavailable." You shot back .

"Yeah spending time with his other girlfriend I'd assume." Damn he won.

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

"Don't tell me to shut up!"

"Just did!"

You would've laughed at the childish banter if you weren't highly annoyed. Leave it to you two to argue like children. Without saying another word you yank the front door opened and proceeded to walk angrily over to your car.

Joe shut the door loudly with a sigh hearing your car drive away. He hates fighting with you, in fact, he hates anything that causes a frown on your face. And knowing he was the reason made him feel like shit. Of course, when you confronted him about being distant, he knew where you were coming from. You were right he has been pushing you away because of Malik. He felt as if its the right thing to do. It made him sick to his stomach that Malik gets to hold and kiss you the way he's been yearning to do for years. To the point the feeling was becoming overwhelming he needed to stay away. Of course, he feels guilty and a little disgusted with himself to put you in the position of feeling like you've done something wrong.

Especially since it's not your fault he's fallen head over heels for you.

The situation is definitely not easy to be in since he's convinced you for sure don't love him like he loves you. Each day goes by and it feels like the feeling grows stronger and gets deeper. He knows feeling this way will only cause a great deal of trouble. The love continues to evolve whenever you were near even when you two were arguing he felt his heart swell with heavy emotion. There were many times he thought about just blurting out how much he's in love with you however in came that fear of confessing to someone you've been close to and tarnishing the indestructible bond you developed.

In fact he would rather suffer knowing you are smitten by another man , than to not have you as his best friend. He couldn't imagine losing you even though it already felt as if he had the minute you told him you're dating Malik.

Letting out another deep sigh, Joe walked into his living room and plopped down on the couch fishing his phone from his pocket to try and get his mind off you for once. Of course, that didn't go well because as soon as he opened his phone he was met with a picture of the two of you on his lock screen.

The picture was taken by his mom on the day of his 25th birthday when you gifted him a bouquet of peach-colored flowers. He remembers the embrace he pulled you in tightly, the pleasant smell of your natural, earthy, and rich scent as he thanked you. As well, he recalls pulling away when his mom announced that she was taking a picture of you both with her brand-new digital camera. Immediately you jumped up in his arms, and your legs were wrapped sideways around his waist in a hip carry position. No surprise there you were always an intimate hugger, never shying away to hold someone close. Your arms encircled his neck, he could feel his cheek pressing against yours as his right forearm gripped your waist and his left hand held the flowers firmly. You smiled brightly as the camera flashed.

Ultimately it became his favorite photo of you both, mostly because how naturally you two looked so much like a couple.

Additionally, the picture managed to capture his favorite piece of jewelry on you. You received it as a college graduation present from him: a two-piece diamond anklet bracelet. The idea of him spending a large amount of money on something so small on you was something you absolutely didn't want to accept at first. It seems you never take it off now, which he really enjoys.

A caller ID soon took over his screen interrupting his gaze. He answers it without hesitation.

"Hey Mom, what's up?" He said.

"Nothing much just finished making your father and I's lunch." Said Mrs.Burrow. "You know Mrs. Elwood from down the street? The nice lady that used to give you and y/n's those gigantic candy bars? Poor thing fell down the stairs."

"Really? That's terrible. Is she okay?" Joe furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

"She suffered a broken hip unfortunately but other than that she's fine. Luckily her daughter was visiting and immediately called 911. So she's currently in the hospital right now, maybe you and y/n can visit her ?" She tells him.

He stayed silent for a moment not knowing if he should tell his mom about the argument he'd just had with you.

"Joe? Hello?"

"Yeah, Ma I'll see." He murmurs picking at the loose thread of his sweatpants. With ample opportunity he'll visit he just wasn't so sure you'll both go together.

"Honey are you okay? you sound a bit down when you picked up the phone." She could immediately detect the sourness in his tone.

"Me and Y/N kinda gotten into an argument." He blurts out, knowing there was no way he could get away from his mom's intuition.

There was silence on the other end for a minute. Now it was Joe's turn to call out. "Mom you there?"

"I'm here, just thinking what in god's name is going on with you two. "

"I don't know mom, she came over bringing up the fact I'm not being a good friend to her." He explains. "Then it escalated from there."

"Was it a really bad argument?"

He shook his head as if she could see him. "No. It was just ridiculous. Her argument completely stems from the fact I didn't join her for movie night."

"And why didn't you?" His mom asked curiously.

"I've been busy." Joe said defensively.

"With what?"

"You know working out, training camp is in a couple weeks. Umm—" He stops to think of any other things he was currently doing which wasn't much.

"Here I'll finish it for you, avoiding my best friend because I'm in love with her and I don't like the fact that she's dating someone." She said in a mocking deep voice.

"Mom!"

"What?! That's exactly what you're doing Joey. And you are breaking her heart in the process." She scowls. "This method of trying to make your feelings go away is not doing you any good. You need to tell her how you feel now is a perfect time."

"How is now the perfect time mom? pretty sure she's got me on her block list." He said while rolling his eyes and he wasn't kidding he knew you can get petty like that.

"For one she's coming on the trip-" His mom started to say but what cut off.

"Mom I already told you she can't make it." He huffs out sinking deeper into a grumpy mood remembering why you're not going. Fucking Malik Jack-ass's birthday since when did you actually give a shit? he swears he never thought he'd see the day.

"Yeah, when she was dating that Malik guy," Robin says and he could practically see the smirk on her face.

What?

"What do you mean?" He asks incredulously. There was a tugging in his heart as his mind process her words. What does she mean by "was dating"? He was certain you were still seeing Malik and you weren't going on the trip.

"I mean Romeo, your girl is single and she's making it to the trip this weekend."

He felt as if ice-cold water have been thrown on him. Millions of questions were running rapidly in his head. You and the Jack-ass broke up? Since when? Why didn't you tell him?

Before he could utter out another word his mom continues to clarify.

"I talked to her earlier when she came over pretty upset by you and told me during our conversation." She adds.

"What? why didn't she tell me?" Joe now felt bad and concerned as to what the hell might've happened between you and Malik.

"She said you probably wouldn't care considering the way you're acting toward her."

If he felt bad before, he now feels like shit. It was a fight between happiness and having pins and needles stick him repeatedly. Before he can do any internal celebrating he needs to know if you were distraught in any kind of way. No matter how long he waited for this day to come he couldn't be happy with himself knowing you were undergoing heartbreak.

"Did she say why?" He said carefully his mind racing with all the possibilities of why you two would break up; Did the old Malik show up? Was he not giving you the amount of attention you deserve?.

"Just that he wasn't the guy she was going for," Robin said reassuringly she knew how passionate Joe was about you. " Don't worry she said he didn't do anything bad, they ended things on good terms."

With that, Joe finds himself at ease but only for a bit, he couldn't fully relax unless he hears it from you directly face-to-face. He wants to know you're not sugar-coating anything in protection for Malik because God knows how badly he's been wanting an excuse to punch him square in the face. Joe was never a fighter by no means but when it comes to his love he wouldn't hesitate to protect.

You hated packing.

Mostly because you were terrible at it. In the past you overpacked so much you felt ridiculous, now you're scrambling around trying to limit the number of outfits and necessities. You tried to make it a thought process but ultimately threw in what you felt is necessary. With a huff, you zipped your travel bag not feeling entirely satisfied you knew once you get to the resort you'd forgotten something. For a moment you thought about not actually going, the argument with Joe still had you in a sour mood best friends or not there's no way you'll enjoy being in his presence for three whole days. But despite that, you knew you couldn't leave Robin in the lurch especially after giving your word.

Halfway through you gathering your items, three loud knocks were heard at the door. Furrowing your eyebrow you checked your phone to see who could be possibly stopping by, but nothing. There wasn't any new text messages and the last person you to talk with was Robin telling her you were still getting ready.

Your feet padded along the carpeted floor toward the door, and curiosity peaked until it didn't. Standing there dressed in a white tee and white hoochie daddy shorts, is Joe practically towering over you.

Immediately your eyebrows were pulled down as you eyed him." What are you doing here?"

"You look nice." He said, looking over your appearance. Nice being an understatement, you looked beautiful, he thank God for the heatwave Cincinnati was currently experiencing because if it weren't for that you wouldn't be standing there in a mini floral print lace dress. You never really wore dresses or anything that showed off your body casually, always finding comfort in baggy stylish clothes. You've always preferred to rather leave something to the imagination. That's one of the things he loves about you.

"Thanks." You mumble, tugging at the cropped cardigan even though it was almost crossing over to 90 degrees outside. Despite the compliment, you still kept your tone cold. "Now are you going to answer my question?"

"Can I come in first? I brought lunch." He helped up a bag in his hand that you didn't notice before.

You contemplate for a minute eyes darting between him and the bag, which has the logo of your favorite restaurant on it. He's trying to butter me up, you thought getting a whiff of the fresh food.

Without saying a word you step aside, you told yourself you were only doing this because you missed out on breakfast. Like knowing the back of his hand Joe navigates through your condo and into your living room. He set the food bag on the coffee table before sitting on the curved sectional sofa. There his expression flicker to something unreadable as he makes eye contact with you.

"Why are you showing up here unannounced?" You asked while taking a seat in your lounge chair.

"Like you did with me a couple days ago?" He raised an eyebrow at you, his tone wasn't irritated or vexed but rather amusing in fact if you weren't mistaken he seem to be in a good mood. A certain glow in his demeanor catches your attention. His overall presence felt relaxed and less annoyed the opposite of what you've seen for months now.

Abby probably lifted up his mood this morning The thought left a bitter feeling in your chest and for that, it made your glare towards him even harder.

Joe notices your harsh stare and chuckles finding it rather cute, of course, he knew you were rightfully mad at him but he couldn't help it your angry faces were never intimidating in the slightest. "Would you stop pouting? you're gonna get wrinkles by the time you hit thirty."

"You still haven't answered my question as to why you are here." You started crossing your legs as well as your arms.

"Maybe if you hadn't blocked my number, you would know." He said reaching into the bag and pulling out the take-out containers. The fresh smell had your stomach grumbling and mouth-watering

"Well, you did say not to call or text." You shrugged. "I was just making it easier for you."

"It isn't. Believe me, not exactly a good day if I don't hear from you. " He sighs. His voice sounded soft and gentle you'd never heard him speak like this before. As soon as his pale blue eyes met yours, you instantly felt a tickling sensation at the pit of your stomach as if millions of butterflies were crowded in one tiny room.

He looks at you with so much....love? no, It can't be. You wanted to scoff at your own delusions of course you would mistake his happy mood for something that's not that there.

Clearing your throat and breaking away from his eyes. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Do I have to? C'mon, you know we always ride together whenever we go on a trip." Joe didn't care how mad you were at him, there's no way you could break a tradition like that.

"Who says I'm going on the trip?" You said nonchalantly. Though you had a pretty good idea of who it was that told him.

He rolled his eyes. "My mom told me. But you already knew that, so would you stop being stubborn?"

You expected him to elaborate more on what Robin told him specifically about the fact why you weren't seeing Malik anymore but it never came.

You raised an eyebrow while scoffing. "Forgive me for not wanting to be stuck in the car you."

"Look, I know you're still mad at me and for that I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you the best way I know how."

"By giving me food?" You quirked an eyebrow while accepting the container he handed off to you.

He chuckles showing off a duchenne smile. "Well I don't know anything other than food that will make you forgive me."

Your love and affection

a kiss maybe ?

"Coughing up Tee's number didn't cross your mind?" You half-joked. If you weren't stupidly in love with your best friend Tee would definitely be the guy you'll try to go for. He's so sweet and smells good every time you're around him.

Joe instantly loses his smile as he looks at you irritated. Making you laugh out loud. You don't know why, but it amuses you when Joe always felt strange at the thought of you with someone from his team. In fact, he told you it would feel similar, liking one of his blood brothers. "No, It didn't. It never will."

"Don't worry, I'll get it out of you somehow." You assured.

"Good luck with that." He says, shaking his head.

"I'm guessing you're not going to leave until I agree to ride with you, huh?" You inquired as you observed him comfortably lean back into the sofa. He took up the majority of the space, sitting there with his legs wide open and one arm stretched out.

God, you were supposed to be mad at him. But him sitting there looking like that your grudge is becoming fruitless.

"You guessed right. I'm not leaving here without you." He clarifies keeping his eyes trained on you. His gaze has been possessing since the moment he walked in. You heart skips a beat it was a look you certainly wasn't used to coming from him.

Lord give me strength. You thought while swallowing as you focus your attention back on your food.

The humming engine and music faintly played in the background filled the silence in the car. As Joe drove along the highway, one hand on the wheel, the other was picking at his lip. It's about an hour into the ride, and you have yet to indulge in a full conversation with him, only talking in a monotone, giving him occasional one-worded responses, and even answering with "k". He knew you were on some petty payback plan and had every right to be. Back at your condo, he thought maybe the food he'd bring will soften you up to him and it did, but only for a moment. As soon as you two hit the road, you were disconnected from him. Now he was left feeling pretty angsty, never have you two been on a quieter ride in your entire life, especially on a road trip. He really fucked up. With a sigh, he took snuck a peek at you and was met with the most endearing sight.

As your head rested against the window, hands crossed and eyelids hanging low, you stared ahead dazed. Sleep was just a few seconds away. Soft puffy lips he'd dreamt of kissing so many times were slightly parted. The wind that was coming through the window was blowing you long coils all around, you looked ethereal. And even more so in that dress, he wonders if Malik ever had the chance to see you in it or if was he the first person to witness such beauty. Sundresses were never your go-to summer fit so probably.

He came to the realization that you had taken off your sweater and that the strap of your dress had fallen off your shoulder revealing more of the swell of your breast. That's when he saw them. Tiny parallel streaks of thinned glossy skin printed on the slope of your breast. Stretch marks. He'd heard you complain about them to your girlfriends over the phone one time calling the marks ugly.

How so wrong you were. He felt they made you more enticing. Lifelike even. They were an everyday beauty of something he'll like to see often. Striking and heavenly just like you.

The sound of a loud horn pulls him away from his stare.

"Shit!" He cursed loudly placing both hands on the wheel as the angry driver of the semi-truck blew their horn again.

You jerked up in surprise a shriek left your lips as the car narrowly avoid contact.

"Jesus! Joey are you trying to kill us?!" You shouted, heart, feeling like it was ready to burst from your chest.

"Sorry, I kind of spaced out." He replied. His face beat red not sure if it was from almost crashing or the embarrassing fact that you were the reason he was distracted. You were quite literally going be the death of him.

"You're red." You stated with a frown of concern. "Are you okay? Do you want me to drive?"

"No! I'm fine, really." He clears his throat keeping his eyes forward. "Just the heat is getting to me I guess."

The window was immediately rolled up and you reached for the console control panel, where you tapped the ventilation system and selected 'fast air conditioning' without saying a word.

It was something any normal person would do if they were in the middle of a heat wave, however, since he knew you always preferred to have your window down. He didn't bother turning on the air.

Silence filled the car for the next few minutes with Joe's attention fully on the road with a faint smile.

You notice. "What's that grin for?"

"You called me Joey."

"And?" You said wanting him to elaborate more.

"That means you aren't mad at me anymore. Whoohoo!" He cheered taking one hand off the wheel to reach over and enthusiastically shake your shoulder.

Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek trying not to smile at his over-the-top celebration. "Yeah, well, after nearly experiencing death I thought maybe holding a grudge isn't the best way to go out."

"Now who's the one being dramatic? We weren't going to die I had it under control."

"Lost in your thoughts so much you almost crashed is having it under control?" You raised an eyebrow watching him struggle to answer. "What were thinking about anyway?"

You, as always. He thinks.

"How much you were right about me." He says and then fell silent.

He could practically hear the gears in your head turning.

"What do you mean?"

Taking a deep breath his gaze remains on the road. " I didn't like the fact you were with Malik. "

"Why?" Your tone had a sense of hopefulness to it as if you were expecting him to say something.

"Because," He paused thinking over the next words that were going to leave his mouth before continuing to say. " I was stuck into thinking he was the same person from high school and I didn't want my best friend with someone who would hurt her in the end."

Joe missed the way your face dropped with disappointment.

"Well, he didn't."

"I heard. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Other than the fact I'm back to square one, I'd say I'm feeling fine." You said bitterly crossing your arms.

"Don't sweat it, the right one will come." He said.

You scoff. "Easy for you to say, you got people flocking to you left to right."

"Oh, and you don't?Superbowl girl" Joe teased.

You groaned out loud at him referring to the time you went viral for attending the Superbowl the camera broadcast you for millions to see for five seconds. Within a short period of time, you gained followers and thirsty users in your direct messages. For some reason, people thought you were attractive at that moment looking concerned for Joe as he lay on the ground withering in pain.

"You just had to bring that up." You said shaking your head with a smile.

Joe's chuckle erupts throughout the car. " I'm just saying I'm not the only one here whose dms looks like a thirst fest."

A laugh left your lips and he felt his heart swell. Even your laugh was beautiful. It was light and laced with amusement.

"You were right too you know." He looks over at you in confusion causing you to elaborate more. "Things didn't turn out the way I wanted."

"Like I said, don't sweat it. They will soon enough."

You and Joe continued joking, laughing, recalling nostalgic memories for the rest of the ride until you eventually arrived at a modern style lodge cabin. It wasn't over the top luxurious or anything but you can tell that it's sleek and spacious while still having a cozy atmosphere. With the car parked, you immediately got out and stretched while Joe circles around the car to retrieve the bags out the trunk.

"This looks peaceful." You comment looking at the cabin. The mellow glow of the evening sunset made it look extra harmonious.

"And isolated," Joe adds with a sigh.

"Sounds like you got a problem with that." You began to head for the walkway up to the cabin.

"I do." He says walking alongside you toward the entrance of the lodge each hand carrying his and your travel bag. "Easier for us to get killed. Next time I'm picking where we go, not my mom."

"I'll be sure to tell her that." You said in a sly tone.

"Don't you dare." He warned cutting his eye over to you.

Before you could say anything else the front door opens abruptly revealing Joe's mom in all her glory. A smile on her face when she spots you two climbing up stairs of the porch.

"Finally you both are here, I was afraid you guys got lost or something." She said ushering you both in.

Upon entering you were met with a bright and open generous space, with high ceiling and cedar wood construction walls. The entrance of the cabin is connected to the kitchen which is sleek and spacious. It also smelt of Joe's mom infamous meatloaf that has your stomach rumbling. From where you were standing you could into the grand living space that features a dramatic stone fire place and floor-to-ceiling windows. Next door is a formal dining area with the view of the back patio. If you had the option to live here you would gladly take it.

"We almost did. Since someone wanted to tell me about a shortcut they seen on Google maps." Joe not so subtly cut his eye over to you.

"You took that wrong turn,not me." You shot back remembering the moment of frustration when he misheard the direction he was given.

"And let's not forget we wouldn't be standing here at all because someone wanted to daydream behind the wheel." You added.

"What?!" His mom turn her head in direction.

"It was nothing I had it under control." Joe said sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Jesus, you know what next time we are all going in one vehicle."

"Speaking of next time, he said that you-"

"Ahem!" Out of nowhere Joe started to fake cough uncontrollably.

"You okay honey?"

"Yeah m'fine." He said clearing his throat. You wheeze out a chuckle that didn't go unnoticed by Joe who squints his eyes in your direction when his mom turned her back.

"Well anyway, your father and brothers went out to grab firewood for the firepit tonight. I'll show you both your room so you guys can get settled in." She says walking out the kitchen.

You didn't miss the way she said "room" instead of rooms and apparently Joe didn't either,

"We're sharing a room?"

"Yeah, when I initially thought y/n wasn't going I ended up booking a cabin that fit all of us."

You hated the way your stomach flutter with excitement and nervousness. Sharing a room with Joe was frequent when you were younger was easier and less nervous now as you are a full grown adult with feelings It feels like a dream and nightmare at the same time.

His mom lead you both to the other side of the house , passing the spiral stairs you thought you were going in the direction of. Instead she stops at the only bedroom located in the back of the house on the first level.

"Okay here we are!" She exclaims opening the door revealing a spacious rustic bedroom with wooden ceiling and walls, two large floor-to-ceiling windows faced the direction of the lake. You would've admired it more if the only bed in the room didn't capture your attention.

A faint ding of a timer goes off in a distance.

"That must be my dinner rolls. Get settled in you two!" A smile was thrown your way before she rushes out the room her kitten heeled sandals clicks loudly against the hardwood floor.

There was a pregnant pause as Joe silently walks over to the cushion storage bench to set your bags down. You examine more of the room, specifically to busy yourself from acknowledging the big fat elephant. For the life of you it felt like you couldn't tame your racing heart, sharing a bed with Joe was the last thing you needed in order to get rid of your feelings for him. There's no way you'll be able to get through the night.

"Looks like we got our own bathroom." Joe spoke, snapping you away from your racing thoughts.

You turned in his direction to see him walking inside the adjacent bathroom. Oddly enough you notice he didn't mention anything about the single bed. Clearly it wasn't a big deal for him and it should put you at ease however it raised even more questions. Is he expecting you to protest? Look for another place to sleep?

"Really? That's cool." You said trying to appear nonchalant as possible.

When he steps out the bathroom you see him look at the bed with a grimace. "Nope, absolutely not."

You felt like your heart fell down to your stomach in despair. It was because of you isn't it? Of course he doesn't want to share a bed with you he probably feels weird.

"What is it?" You asked in a quiet tone, pretending to take interest in the outside world.

He clearly sees you has someone who he didn't want to be that close and intimate with.

"It has too many pillows."

Oh.

You looked over and he was right; the king size bed were mostly filled with different sizes of pillows. Before you knew it he began to toss some of them at the foot of the bed.

"Is that necessary?"You asked standing near the opposite side of the bed.

"There going to end up on the floor anyway seeing that m' gonna be dealing with a wild sleeper tonight." He said with a teasing smile.

"I am not a wild sleeper." You said in denial.

"Sure," He sarcastically rolling his eyes.

"Well, you snore so I'll be dealing with that."

"What? No I don't."

"Do, too. You snore like your dad whenever he nods off in his comfy chair." You laughed.

He slowly licks his lips before pressing them together as an attempt to hide his smile and keep a straight face.

"Take that back right now."

"Nope. You sound exactly like this—" You said before mimicking the obnoxious loud sounds you once heard coming from him.

Seemingly out of nowhere he makes his way around the bed launching for you, quick. A shriek left you as he got a hold on you his hands latches their way to your sides fingers wiggling alongside your ribcage. Immediately bubbly laughter left you as you tried to get away not prepared the way his fingers danced around your weak spots.

"Joey! Stop!" You laughed as you fall laying on your back on the bed.

"Take it back." He playfully scolded. His hand moves down towards your stomach the place where he knows you're the most sensitive.

"Noho!"

"You know I haven't given these to you for awhile so you've asked for it now." He chuckles as you try to capture and stop his hands.

"W-wait, hold on!" You yell out rolling on to your sides as you try to move away. The fact that you could very well be revealing everything that underneath your dress wasn't a factor in that moment.

All you could think about the sensations you were experiencing and Joe's laugh in the air mixed with yours.

He began to tickle all over your neck and collarbone, your hands struggled to capture him in order to stop his movements. Soon you broke out in silent laughter. Tears forming at the corner of your eyes at the intensity of his tickles.

"S-s-stop it Joey!" You said in between giggles.

"Or what?" He taunts, pausing his movements.

"You really don't want to know." Your voice was giggly and non-threatening whatsoever.

"Oh yeah?" He said before his hands went back to work.

Your reaction is immediate, a shriek of laughter fell from your lips, legs flailing up causing your dress to rise more likely flashing Joe but you didn't care as you tried to pry his fingers away.

"Oh,my god. I can't breathe" You said.

He laughed. "Yes you can. Just say sorry and I'll stop."

"Wait,stop, joey."

"That's not sorry." He said.

"Okay! I'm sorry!" You gave in, just as his hand went to your thigh to continue the torture. Tiny droplets of tears rolled down your cheeks, which were weakly wiped away as you were still on the high of laughter.

As he hovers over you on the bed, his hands stop. While catching your breath, you realized the position you were in. Joe was on top of you with one leg caged in between yours, his small diamond chain dangling in front of your face. Relax, calm yourself. Even though you were telling yourself to refocus, that was easier said than done. Because as soon as your eyes met his, the same look he had given you at your condo appears yet again. The same covetous gaze you tried to justify.

He's staring at you like he wants you. Does he want me? You wondered full of hope.

Your heart will stop when he says what he says next.

"You have the most beautiful smile."

You've been complimented before by Joe. However, it has never been done with so much passion and desire. It was shocking and exciting. Especially from someone you never would've thought would speak to you that way. That someone who is your best friend.

But a friend just wouldn't look at you in the way he is now.

"Um, uh, thanks." You stammered out.

He smiles sheepishly. " Hope m' not making you feel weird."

With his large frame leering over you with his arms propping himself up on either side of your head along with that look. Feeling weird wouldn't even be on the list of the thing you're experiencing right now.

"You're fine." You said getting warm.

He opens his mouth to say something but the sound of loud voices could be heard down the hall. The sound of his dad and brothers voices.

Immediately he gets up as you follow suit adjusting your dress which had risen up quite high.

"I'm gonna go see if they need help with the firewood." He said before abruptly leaving the room quite flustered himself and was looking everywhere but you.

As the day progressed, you and Joe were in a state of awkwardness and uncertainty. As a result, you had allowed yourself to ignore the obvious tension and converse with his family throughout dinner. You couldn't help but glance at Joe, who was already staring at you before quickly averting his gaze elsewhere. However awkward it may have been for you, you can't now deny that he was at least attracted to you.

It had your head spinning and heart skipping. Yet you couldn't help but to feel confused as to why. Was it the dress? Or did he got caught up in the moment? The questions were embedded within your mind later on in the evening when you found yourself sitting around the fire, everyone was stuffed from dinner and delicious pumpkin pie all except Joe who is on his second serving of the dessert. Voices and laughter overbearing the crackling of the fire as you sat silent enjoying the nature and atmosphere around you.

You were brought out your thoughts by soft weight being layed upon your exposed shoulders.

"Hey, cover up with this ,honey it looks like your freezing." You turn your head to Joe's mom wrapping a chunky knit blanket around you.

"Thank you." You said in relief, she was right with the temperature drastically dropping down your thin dress was fruitless against the night weather. "Whatcha got there?"

"A guide of all the things we can go to and do tomorrow" She said taking a seat next to you in the empty camp chair a small pamphlet in her hand. "There's a winery and flower farm I think would be great to visit."

"That seems fun." You would actually agree to go anywhere, it hasn't even been an entire day yet you could feel yourself catching cabin fever already.

"Oh! I meant to ask if you were comfortable with the room situation? If you're not I can always make one of these goofballs room with each other." She gesture towards Joe and his brother who were joking around with each other.

"I don't mind it." You said and immediately cringing at how fast you answered.

"Good, maybe this be will your opportunity to confess your feelings to him ." She blurted out.

Your head whipped in her direction so quick you were surprised it didn't snap. "W-what?"

" The looks were giving at him during dinner alone gives it away, honey."

You wanted to be mendacious and deny. Though it would be pointless as one, you wouldn't come across as believable and two, she wouldn't buy it either way. To be cautious you took a glance in Joe's direction he was still engrossed in his conversation with his brother, it brought you a huge relief he didn't hear anything that was said. You would've probably died from embarrassment.

"It's that obvious huh?" You said with chuckle.

"He feels the same way to you know." She says casually. "You guys just needs to stop dancing around before it hurts you both."

"I don't want to risk ruining our friendship." You muttered, staring ahead at the fire. You knew your friendship is valued and didn't want it to end because you misinterpreted things with Joe.

"He is very attached to you, so I don't think that will happen."

Before you could utter another word a droplet falls from the sky and lands on your cheek followed by another. Soon came the sound of pounding thunder in a distance. Everyone immediately got up from their seats and began to scramble inside. Once you were away from the rain it seem everyone went their separate ways to call it a night.

After saying goodnight to Joe's parents you and him both proceeded to head towards your shared room. The room you'd been given that has one bed. There wasn't a single word uttered once you entered the room and has you walked over to your bag to fish out your pajamas which is a oversized looney tunez t-shirt gifted by the man himself and a pair of pajamas pants....which is not packed. Your eyes widened, the pajamas pants you were sure you packed weren't there.

You searched frantically in the bag hoping you may have overlooked but came up empty handed, except your underwear and t-shirt. God this is going to be awkward.

"What's wrong?" Joe asked taking off his shoes as a distressed sigh leaves your lips.

"Nothing I just forgot something." You mumbled out quickly going inside the bathroom to do your nightly routine.

Another deep sigh left you when you shut the door behind you and turned on the lights. The bathroom is fairly spacious with an elegant rustic style that goes along with the rest of the cabin. Typical personal care products and essentials are splayed throughout. When you got finished admiring you walked toward the huge walk-in shower. You knew the water controls would cause you a headache just by looking at it. And it did after several attempts of learning you finally got to your right temperature and soon as you stepped in before shutting the glass door the heated water soon soothes your tense muscles. The Steam rose to the ceiling clouding above your head, and the sweet fragrance of your body wash filled the space around you as you gently rub it against your skin.

As you got lost lathering your thoughts began to drift to the conversation you had with Joe's mom.

He feels the same way too you know

No, you in fact don't know, aside from the moment earlier you don't ever remember Joe looking at you with any interest.

It was hard to not take Joe's mom's word though. Especially since she's the person who knows him well and through. Now you started to question his real reason for disliking Malik. Was he just jealous the entire time? Just the thought made you happy and feel lightheaded.

You begin to hum to try to take your mind off the speculation and forced yourself to think of something else.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you turned the shower off and stepped onto the fluffy mat. You quickly dried off and lather your body before slipping on your underwear and t-shirt. Sighing, you glanced in the massive rectangular mirror, mentally wincing at how the shirt came down to your mid-thigh. Fingers brush over the tiny stretch marks that are splayed on the side of your thighs. Deep down, you knew nothing was wrong with them and that it was natural and inevitable. But you couldn't help to think about Joe's reaction to them. Would he find it strange?

You shook your head mentally scolding, hating yourself for getting sprung over what a man thinks of your body. No matter who it is, you were raised better than that.

When you emerged from the bathroom along with steam. You find Joe sitting down on the end-of-a-bed bench with a full bowl of popcorn and a remote in his hand as he stares at the TV. He turns his head in your direction when he sees you walk past him swiftly to put your discarded clothes away.

"What's all this?" You asked after zipping your bag, gesturing toward the bowl.

"Isn't it obvious? I owe you a movie night." He says quite proudly.

"Hm , I thought it was stupid?" You said tugging down the shirt as you walk over to the bed.

"What I said was stupid" He shakes his head. "I'm doing this as a part of making it up to you."

There goes that look again....

"So what do you have in mind?" You climb on the bed careful not to flash your underwear and layed by the end of the bed flat on your stomach.

"I was thinking you pick while I'm in the shower?" He holds out the remote for you to take which you gladly did.

"Don't mind if I do." You muttered, immediately going to horror. It was the perfect setting a horror movie night anyway, deserted cabin, heavy rain and thunder.

"No horror movies!" He adds standing up and getting ready to head into the shower.

"Scaredy cat." You called out right as the bathroom door shuts behind him.

Thirty minutes later, Joe returns from the steamy bathroom with just sweatpants and a towel drying his wet hair. In the same position, he spots you laughing at your phone most likely at a tiktok video . Your eyes caught his gaze and you sit upright turning off your phone. He gulps suddenly becoming nervous, it's been awhile since you've shared a room and the first time to actually share a bed together. For the longest he's dreamt of this. The love he has for you is too strong to ignore the situation and act like everything is fine.

"Superbad or The Hangover?" You asked keeping your eyes on him as he got situated on the bed next to you.

He ponders for a second before saying. "Um, Superbad, haven't seen that one in awhile."

The wind continues to howl as the rain pours down harshly outside when you press play. He pretends not to notice the brush of your elbow, despite being in a fairly large bed you two were in close proximity both sitting up with your backs on the headboard. In his peripheral vision, he secretly stares at your side profile looking for any sign of discomfort about the fact your lying in the same bed. Instead he sees you focused on the TV laughing without a care in the world. Your relaxed state automatically makes him feel the same way. No big deal. It's just like sleeping by himself, and he's willing to pretend he's alone. Yet how can that be possible when he is in fact not alone and is joined by you—the person he's head over heels for in just a t-shirt? No doubt it will be a challenge.

"That was you in high school." You nudged him before pointing towards the screen which splayed Michael Cera's character Evan awkwardly talking to Becca.

He scrunches his nose. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that."

"Am I wrong though? Remember Emily Robinson from study hall?" You questioned with a teasing smile adorned on your face. "She pretty much threw herself you at every given chance and you were totally oblivious. "

"The opposite is true, I wasn't oblivious." He said with honesty.

Confusion filled your eyes as you furrowed your eyebrows. "What? You're lying!"

"I promise you I'm not." He chuckles throwing his hands up in defense. " I knew she liked me, I just didn't know how to tell her off."

As you shake your head, you exclaim, "Oh, that's so hard to believe."

"And why's that?"

"That's the case with virtually every girl who shows interest in you."

He shrugs. "Or who knows maybe it's because I'm always looking at someone else."

"That's a possibility." You said in a quiet tone completely unaware how he looked at you while saying that.

The irony of teasing him about his obliviousness and failing to see how deeply in love he is with you is quite funny. Outside eyes are already taking notice of what is happening. Why couldn't you? She's waiting for you to make the first move his mother would say and he prays to god she's right.

For the rest of the night you spent watching a couple more films as the storm outside turns into light drops of rain. It was 2am when you both decided to finally call it a night, after flickering off the TV you cautiously tucked yourself underneath the covers Joe is currently under. There's a generous amount of space between you as you faced away from each other, tension arises as the only sound in the room is the plattering of the rain.

By a slight whisper you wished him a goodnight.

As your body rolls over yet again for the millionth time, you let out a frustrated sigh. Sleep seemed so close yet so far away. You've tried practically every method from counting sheep over the fence to creating fake scenarios, all of which include the man sleeping next to you. And still nothing . This type of restless night drives you crazy, sleeping in an unfamiliar setting causes this and because you can't help but to still process you're sleeping in the same bed as Joe, so your mind couldn't help but wonder.

You kicked majority of the blankets off your body hoping that some coolness would ease your mind into exhaustion. Again, nothing. Feeling completely hopeless you sat up, eyes looking around as if you could make out anything in the pitch darkness the only thing that's visible is the alarm clock on the nightstand that reads 3:30am.

Movement beside you caught your attention as Joe rolls over on his stomach. You couldn't distinguish which direction his head was turned as you laid back down as an idea came to you.

It's worth a shot, hopefully he'll take pity on you.

"Joey?" You whispered.

No response of course, you said it so low you practically mouthed it. You were still debating on whether you should wake him up or not. It's selfish and quite frankly inconsiderate you know this. Especially since you're ruining someone else's good night sleep for you own gain. But you're desperate and can't go to sleep so you call out his name again a bit more louder.

"Joey?" This time you reach over to softly poke at his bare shoulder. Since when did he take off his shirt?

"Yeah?" He responds , in a voice that sounds nothing like he'd just been woken up.

"Are you awake?" You ask , dumb question. Of course he's awake, sounds like he's been up this entire time.

A slight chuckle comes from him. "No, I'm asleep."

"How long have you been up?" You mumbled.

"Since you start fidgeting"

So about an hour. Damn.

"Sorry , I can't go to sleep." You said sheepishly.

Suddenly, there is silence and you believe he has fallen asleep until you feel him shift closer to you. Your back is facing him, and you are so glad it was because you got flustered instantly. He lifted the blankets up and said softly. "C'mere"

Well fuck, there's no way you're going to be getting any sleep tonight.

Without saying a word you shift under his arms, his bare chest pressed against your back as you got situated. A sigh of content escapes you as Joe practically engulfs you in his embrace. He feels so warm,big,and strong. His arm pulls you in tighter which you had no problem with. This is definitely not what best friends do.

What is this?

"Are you comfortable?" He asked you could feel his lip on the shell of your ear and the urge to turn around to lock lips is strong.

Swallowing thickly you nod your head. "I am, didn't think you're the cuddle type Joey."

"M'not but I know you are." He says.

That's true. Almost everyone knows you're a fan of cuddles, so much in fact you sleep with a body pillow at home.

"Well, thank you." You said in a way to be grateful as you trace over the multiple prominent veins on his hand in front of you. You wished to see the size comparsion to your hand and his but you could feel it. So big just like the entirety of him.

You weren't blind you'd seen how Joe has grown into his muscular frame since the Superbowl, the countless workouts really pays off as his arms and chest became more defined. Which you are more than lucky enough to be currently cradled in. Reality hits hard at the situation. Joe is cuddling you right now, full on koala hugging you from behind. You always wondered was it'll be like to be smothered in his arms, close to his body, you never thought you'd see the day.

During your enjoyment of mindlessly playing with his hand, you can feel his heart beating against your back. As if he were nervous or scared. As you furrow your eyebrows, you open your mouth to ask him what's wrong when he grabs your hand and laces it with his.

"I need to tell you something." He says quietly, gripping your hand with firmness.

You tilted your head in his direction with concern. "Everything okay?"

"Not really." He chuckles slightly but it was far from sounding amusing, it was more of a nervy laugh. "You know, I care about you alot. We've been friends since forever and what I'm about to say could possibly ruin that."

"What are you—?"

"I lied earlier," He interrupts causing you to frown.

Lied about what?

"In the car, I told you I was being distant because I didn't want Malik to break your heart." He swallowed heavily, before continuing, "That wasn't entirely true. I just didn't like seeing you with him...or with anybody else."

Time seemed to have slowed down and the air became thicker. Your heartbeat increased, and your stomach twists immediately. However with all those things happening it didn't stop you from uttering out a blatant "W-what?"

It's hard for you to comprehend that he's basically confessing his feelings for you. So long you've hoped and dreamt about this exact moment.

"I want you to be mine and I don't want you to be with anyone else." He sits up leaning on his elbow his other arm is still wrapped around your waist and fingers still laced with yours. "I hate to sound cheesy like those cliché rom coms you make me watch—" He laughs before continuing. "But I'm really in love with you, it's to the point where I can't stop thinking about you."

Happiness bloomed inside you and you felt a sudden flare of relief. Joe—the man you've been in love with—just confessed his feelings. Your heart has been daring to hope that he feels the same way for a while, even though you've convinced yourself that it's not possible.

Holy shit.

"You really love me?" You said gripping his hand tightly.

He leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder. "I do, so much."

"I love you too," You smiled when you heard him a sigh of relief. Your hand slips from his as you reach up to caress his jawline. "I have for a long time actually. Took you long enough."

You feel him smile and lean against your hand. Just when you thought everything couldn't possibly get better, he opens his mouth and asks a question you've been waiting for so long.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?"

The excitement unfolded like a flower as you nodded your head. And before you know it his mouth is on yours. He's passionate and fierce as if he'd been stranded in a desert in need of a drink and you were that cold glass of water he found and drank so desperately. His tongue traces over your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth wasting no time exploring every inch. You moan as his tongue intensifies swirling against yours , while doing so his hand grips your waist holding you against him.

That's when you feel it. The hardness prodding on your lower back, you could feel it through the thin fabric of your t-shirt which had risen dangerously high.

Pulling away, he kisses you from your jaw to your neck, gently sucking while you gasp, wrapping an arm around his neck as you enjoy the feel of his lips. Under the thick blanket, his hips are pressed against yours, keeping you in a state of shock. He felt massive and thick. And you want more of it.

"I want to touch you." His words are muffled due to his never ending kisses on your neck. "Can I touch you? Hm?"

"Yes, please do." As soon as you gave him the go he takes his hand from your waist and travels down to your expose thigh gently massaging it cherishing how soft you feel. You sigh in contentment, eyes fluttering shut when his hand goes underneath your shirt and go upwards to cup your left breast.

Taking you completely by surprise he rubs your breast before trailing back down to the hem of your underwear where he slips fingers inside. You let out a whimper when his fingertips glides over the area you wanted him the most. His body tense when he felt your arousal that was practically soaking his hand. Tiny moans escape your lips as he circles your sensitive clit, your hips immediately start to squirm.

"Keep still." He groans, his forehead dropping down to rest on the back of your shoulder. You weren't aware that the more you squirm the arch in your back goes deeper, essentially grinding your ass against his hardness.

"I can't, not when you're touching me like this." You murmur hand clutching his forearm where you could feel the muscles flexing with every strum that his fingers makes.

"Fuck!"He grunts breathlessly as your hips continues to move. There's no way he going to cum like this as much as you're making him feel absolutely good he was ready to explode at any given moment by the movement of your hips.

He takes his hand out of your underwear much to your dismay letting out a sound of disappointment he quickly repays you with a kiss on the lips before sitting up yanking the covers off the both of you tossing it to the side.

"Roll over on your back for me." He commanded.

You follow his order, finally coming face to face even though you're in almost complete darkness the outline of his body and features were visible to you. The diamonds from his chain certainly stood out as well. He grabs both of your legs and spread the wide getting situated between them.

"Lift up your shirt all the way." He said quietly, almost at a whisper.

You could feel your soul take flight as an unsuspected feeling of realization consumed you. This isn't a dream, Joe is really here in between your thighs ready to fuck you in the most delicious way possible. No amount of words could explain how happy and eager you feel.

When you finished taking off your shirt he wasted no time bending down attaching his lips on your tits, the coldness of his chain grazes your warm skin causing you to shiver. His tongue flicks and licks around the hardness of your nipple before he gently sucks.

"Hmmm Joey." You moan grasping the back of his head, not knowing what felt more good his tongue or the fact his cock is being pressed against your aching pussy.

Another moan escapes from you when he strokes his hips against you rubbing right on your clit and causing you to be blinded by pleasure. His hair tickles your chin when he switches over to your other breast giving it the same attention. It took everything in you to keep your moans at a lower level, still mindful of the fact you're doing this under the same roof as his family. The last thing you wanted is for one of them to come down and interrupted your intimate session. God , you would never show your face again.

Joe detaches his lips with an audible 'pop' leaving your skin glazed and sit up on his knees while his hands grips your underwear and swiftly pulls it down. Lifting up both of your legs together he takes your panties off completely. Now you're on full display, laying there letting him venerate every inch of your body. For some reason you didn't have the urge to shy away or cover up like you did with past lovers ,no, you are ready for him to see and cherish you including the imperfections.

"You have the softest skin. So beautiful." He mumbled lowering his head to kiss by your hips trailing down to your inner thighs peppering extra kisses on your beauty marks. Joe lifts his head up for a moment grabbing a spare pillow handing it over to you. "You might wanna hold on to that, m'not gonna be able to contain myself."

Without giving it a second thought you wrap both arms around the pillow when he hitches both your legs over his shoulder. His mouth is on you in seconds, low groans leaves his lips as he engulfs his tongue over your folds and run it on your clit where he sucks and massages.

"Oh, my god!" Your words muffle due to your mouth on the pillow. And your hips tries to come up from the bed but they don't have the chance because Joe's hand immediately reaches out to slam you back down.

He takes your legs off his shoulders and held them down each flat on the bed, spreaded wide, his hand on holding down your thighs firmly. The intrusion of his tongue slipping inside you takes you by surprise, a loud raw moan wanted to desperately get out but all you could muster up is a whimper. Eyes closing shut, your legs started to shake at the intense pleasure.

Messy smacking and slurping noise could be heard underneath your heavy breathing, the way he's eating you is borderline sensual yet unhinged. He left no parts untouched, you could feel wetness pool beneath you. Which turns you on even more.

A familiar heat is burning inside at the pit of your stomach and you knew that it'll only be a matter of time you gush out your release.

"M' gonna cum." You sob out in a whisper, twisting your upper body to the side slightly.

Joe pulls away yet again and you swore you were seconds away from reaching down to finish yourself off. However when Joe releases his hold on you and reaches down to take off his sweatpants that idea is immediately gone.

He carries a throbbing cock beneath the thin happy trail; it slaps against the lower abdomen where a prominent vein runs from his tip to his thick shift. There is no way you could deny that you are a little intimidated; the sheer size of him had you gulping.

He settles back in between your thighs, this time lifting your left leg on his shoulder. That's when he notices it, the diamond peice anklet, a smile adorns his face when he pressed a kiss on your ankle. His eyes focuses back on you drinking in your needy state, the pillow he gave you is clenched in your grip with anticipation.

Not wanting for you to wait any longer, he spits loudly into his palm before wrapping around his hand around his length, slick noise of the sound of him jerking could be heard.

Gripping your left leg as your right curls around his waist, he aligned his tip to meet your seeping wet entrance you shuddered feeling a slightly burn from being stretched out.

"It's okay, take a deep breath for me, you gotta relax" He assures you noticing the way your muscles tensed. The last thing he want is for you to be uncomfortable.

You force your eyes to be transfixed on the digital clock on the nightstand as you focus on taking deep breaths for a few seconds. Once it became tolerable and no longer confining he involuntary pushes his hips forward going deeper. As soon as he did that you tighten around him. His face contorts into an expression of pleasure, pressure on your thigh is coming from his hand that grips it tightly. You can tell he was holding himself back from fully pounding into you relentlessly.

His thrusts are slow and impactful. Moans after moans continues to leave your lips.

"Faster Joey, I want you to go faster." You said mindlessly body jerking up at every stroke of his hips.

"You sure?" He asks.

You nodded before he presses his lips together and took hold of your waist when he slams into hard and fast. Your left leg is still on his shoulder when he leans down to lock his lips with yours silencing your moans. The pillow you were gripping is tossed to the side as you find stability in clutching on to Joe's biceps, digging your nails into his skin.

"Fuck Joey!" You cried out as his tip kept hitting your sweet spot. Faint sounds of skin smacking filled the air along with the sound of your wetness. "O-oh my g-god, you feel so good!"

"You like that baby?" He asked, his chain is brushing against your chin with every stroke.

"Mmhmm, I love you so much." Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the constant pleasure, he fucks you even harder thrust filled with passion. You were on the brink of letting out a scream of pleasure, stopping you from doing so you leaned and sink your teeth into his shoulder.

You can feel your stomach tighten when you felt a strong deep pleasure within. A surge ready to be released.

"Cum for me, just let go." He reaches his hand down and plays with your clit. You let out a mixture of a whimper and sob, your back arching, legs still, eyes fluttering, and jaw slack. The feeling you're experiencing felt otherworldly, it has you in disbelief. He fucks you through it nicely with slowed thrusts before pulling out, your left leg slips off his shoulder and lies limp.

"Oh my god." You breathed out placing a hand on your temple as you try to find your train of thought. He quite literally fucked you stupid.

"You still with me?" The corner of his mouth curls up into a smile. A hum in response is all he got. Once you have officially recovered, he orders you to lie on your side. Confused, you turn to the right facing the direction you were in earlier. As Joe kneels in between your legs, he straddles your right thigh and lifts your left leg to curl around his left hip. Almost before you can process the position, he enters you and starts to devour you.

Your tits bounces rapidly at his merciless hips slam into you over and over again. It wasn't long before they're being groped by Joe who pants heavily above you, a low moan coming from him occasionally.

He hovers over your quivering body with a bruising grip on your hips. His pace is sharp, quick, and so deep you felt dizzy with never ending pleasure as your sensitive body takes in everything that he's giving to you.

"J—mhgh" You couldn't fathom any coherent words as you began to feel overstimulated. This position he has you in makes you feel like you're being fucked beyond your limits.

Joe notices your hands blindly searching for anything to cling to and releases your breasts from his hold. His hands completely engulfs yours as he laces them back together place them on either side of your head.

A couple more thrusts followed and you've approached your second orgasm. Way more intense than the first , so intense you've made a mess on Joe's lower stomach matting down his happy trail and coating the both of you with your essence.

"Shit," He grunts out feeling the aftermath of your orgasm, pace becoming sloppy as he's rapidly approaching his release. He pulls out abruptly ready to fist his soaking cock when you stopped him.

"I wanna do it." You said sitting up he was still straddling your leg as you reach down to stroke him.

"Fuck fuck fuck" He chants, head leaning forward to rest against your shoulder. He moans your name as his release hits, lips connecting with yours when he's spilling multiple spurts on your hand and even on your chest.

With a sigh you both shared a lazy kiss before plopping down next to each other. There is a moment of contentment instilled in your heart during this time, and you remain there for a moment. Enjoying the presence of the man who just took you into a different realm. It wasn't long before the moisture and stickiness on your skin became a discomfort.

Taking a deep breath you slowly eased out of bed. When your feet planted on the floor your legs buckles slightly.

You hear Joe chuckle in amusement. "Take it easy, huh? Where you going?"

"Shut up, I'm headed to the shower." You blushed holding on to the bed post.

He stands up and walks over to you with a glint in his eye. "I take it you got room for one more?"

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livinginshambles · 11 months

Text

Not ridiculous at all | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You are part of the marauders, always having felt special when they called you part of the gang, but also consequently too embarrassed to admit to wanting to be more feminine, afraid that they would no longer deem you cool enough to hang out with you. You are hurt by James' comments and James might realise something when you're avoiding him.

Notes: Best friend!James, he's a bit stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, arguments, so maybe a little angsty, but not really, classic cliche tropes like friends to lovers, misunderstandings, pining (I literally just dreamt this so it's a bit patchy) and I know it's very stereotypical but that's why it's just fanfiction :)

(PS) I haven't written before, just wanted to get this out of my system. English is my third language, and this fic is not proofread because I'm way too lazy for that! Enjoy!

Part two Masterlist

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You've grown up with James Potter and have been part of the marauders since the very beginning. You always took 'being one of the guys' or 'part of the gang' as a compliment, it left you feeling giddy as if you were included in some secret group that only you had the privilege of belonging to.

But sometimes you would sit in the girls dormitory and despite your friends laughing and chatting about, you would feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. They often did activities together and by now, 6th year at Hogwarts, they've managed to stop asking you to join them as you've always dutifully replied that it 'wasn't your thing'.

I mean, what would the guys think of you? It would be too embarrassing to admit to them, or anyone for that matter, that you would love to be dolled up for once. To go shopping with your friends, be included in movie nights, asked by Alice if she could test some makeup on you, or read and gossip about the new romance novels that were the new hype.

Especially now when you sat on your bed, part of the circle in which they were discussing plans to go dress shopping.

"You should absolutely join us!" Alice squealed in delight. You were shaken out of your train of thoughts with a huh and realized the conversation had taken a turn somewhere and now included you too. Marlene and Lily nodded fervently in agreement but you bashfully shook your head.

"Nah, can you imagine me in a dress?" You joked, but Dorcas caught the curious and somewhat longing look in your eyes at the mention of getting ready for the Yule ball.

"I think you would look great actually. And besides, you can treat yourself too sometime you know. You're not obligated to stick with the marauders all the time." The girls in the dorm once again all agreed and you smiled at their kindness.

"Since when are you interested in things like the Yule ball?"

You snapped your head up at James to see his questioning eyes and then quickly averted your own in a flustered manner as if one of your greatest secrets had just been uncovered. "I just think it seems nice, that's all, I'm not even going or anything", you defended. You felt slightly embarrassed by James' face which wore a weirded out expression.

"Well you're not really the type to go to such an event anyway right?", James remarked. You did your best to hide your frown at his immediate agreement. Was it that bad that you'd hoped he would say something along the lines of 'what are you talking about, go enjoy yourself at the party' or something like that?

"Besides I can't imagine you in a dress, all made up, it'd just look so ridiculous." James continued. Remus, ever the sweet and attentive boy glanced at you and noticed your slightly sacked shoulders in disappointment at his words.

"I mean you're just not that type of person, you know? Like completely opposite of Lily."

And with that your face felt like it burned from embarrassment. As if you didn't already know. That didn't mean you didn't want to be more like her sometimes.

Peter's eyes flicked with concern from James to you and back.

You felt hurt and forced yourself to stop tears welling up at his words, mustering up a grin, ready to agree with him but were interrupted by Sirius who had now also caught your change in mood.

"Prongs, you really have no tact at all, how are you expecting to even win Evans over with that?" He said in a playful manner as to not offend their whipped friend, but not fully succeeding.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" James looked slightly offended and Remus jumped in the conversation.

"That's just not a nice thing to say. It's different if you call me an ugly toad, but not Y/N! If she wants to go to the Yule Ball all dolled up, she definitely should." He shot you a supportive smile which you returned.

Peter nodded in agreement. "I don't think you'd look ridiculous at all," he told you sincerely. You subtly scooted a little closer to him and Remus.

"But it's Y/N, it'd just look weird, cause she's just not a proper girl like that, no offense." James shot back and gave you a smile at the last two words.

You saw Remus opening his mouth to retort but quickly intervened. "He's right." You told them. You just wanted this conversation to be over with already. It was awkward and painful for you as it was.

James didn't seem to get the memo, however, and kept on going, drilling your confidence further into the ground.

"See, she agrees." He turned to you. "It's not like you're ugly or anything but it'd be ridiculous. Like I said, you're not the type to be all beautiful and dressed up, hair done and all. I mean you're cool, but not pretty like that." He was clearly not done yet and started talking about Lily and her beauty at which point you abruptly got up and left.

"What's gotten into her?" James remarked with a frown.

Sirius and Remus didn't even bother to answer and just stared at him in disbelief.

The girls comforted you as you cried. Marlene barged in with ice cream, stolen from the kitchen in one hand and 5 spoons in the other. "What a jerk." She commented and thrust a spoon in your hand before plopping down in front of you with the rest of your friends.

Lily sighed frustratedly. "See this is why I don't like him at all. He's so rude and arrogant, and he-"

"- is right." You answered dejectedly. "I'm your friend, but not the type to join you guys and belong to your circle."

"Well that's only because you hang around the boys all the time," Alice argued. She nudged you. "But you know what, now that James is being a git, you can hang out with us!"

Dorcas gasped dramatically. "We could do a girls night! Treat ourselves a little", she jumped up. "I'll get the face masks and nail polish!"

Lily let go of you too and told you to sit up. "Come on, let me do your hair," she smiled.

With Marlene feeding you ice cream, your nails being polished by Alice, hair done by Lily and Dorcas reading the latest romance novel out loud while you were all wearing a facemask, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.

"I love you guys."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

You laughed and pushed Marlene teasingly off the bed.

"Hey, watch it! I just finished your right hand." Alice complained.

James was a moron. He was kind hearted (to most), popular, captain of the Quidditch team, good looking but a moron nonetheless. So he was absolutely clueless to find you missing from the common room yesterday evening and even more clueless when you were missing from your usual spot next to him at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, because he could not for the life of him think of a reason why you would sit with Alice and Frank instead.

He frowned and felt uneasy at the fact that you hadn't even looked at him, let alone come for a hug with your smile and said 'good morning' like usual. He shook the thoughts away. You were obviously allowed to have your own friends as well and not obligated to spend all your time with him.

The door of the great hall behind him opened and Lily Evans walked in, which was why instead of walking up to you to say something, he habitually turned to Lily instead.

"You look beautiful this morning as usual. I could put in the effort to match you when we go out together?" He shot her a wink and a coy smile but faltered slightly when his attempts at flirting got even less of a reaction out of her than usual.

James turned to Sirius with a questioning look, as if to ask 'you noticed that too right?' but Sirius simply shrugged. When James looked back at Frank and Alice, you were gone, having left the moment you felt his stare.

James started to ponder. 'Were you avoiding him? Surely you wouldn't, right? You two were friends after all, childhood friends. Childhood best friends even, for Merlin's sake! If you were upset with him, you'd definitely let him know.'

A week passed with you, sitting on the opposite sides of the classroom, seemingly having picked partners long before class because how else would you team up with random students before James could even blink?

He had now fully accepted that you were avoiding him. And with that, he meant 'accepting the possibility of that occurrence'. He was by no means going to accept your strange new behavior without doing anything.

The last drop though, was when he heard the news from Peter that you'd already left for Hogsmeade with the girls.

He frowned. 'You were kind', he reasoned. If you were upset with him, then he'd have to apologize. Quickly. Because it's been far too long without his best friend and he realized he missed you. Especially seeing you hang out with others.

"What did I do?" He finally asked his remaining friends.

"Really Prongs?" Remus couldn't help but ask. His friend just gave him a look that said 'well go on then, what is it'.

"How about you think about what you said last week, you know, those rude comments about the Yule ball."

"Yeah, but I already apologized yesterday and told her that I didn't mean to offend her!" James flailed his arms around when he exclaimed it.

"But she's still only hanging out with anyone but me," he whined. "Peter studied with her, Pads got a 'good morning' this morning and you're still talking to eachother.

Remus gave him an unimpressed look at his whining but James was not done complaining yet.

"She keeps spending all her time with the girls while she doesn't even seem to be fully enjoying herself"

This was true. You dearly missed James, so despite your newfound hobbies, a look of sadness sometimes fell over your face, which hadn't escaped James' attention.

"And I just don't understand why she would-" He started but never finished, something dawning on him. "Oh of course! Merlin, I'm so stupid!" He shouted out in epiphany.

"Your words not mine," Sirius quickly took the opportunity.

"Oh bugger off Pads", James laughed and pushed Sirius' arm. And with that, he took off to find you.

Sirius and Remus watched him leave and sighed at the same time. "Do you really think he got it?"

"I bloody hope so, Moony."

"But it's James."

"Yeah, but I mean it's not my fight but even I realize that she's sad that James made fun of the idea of her being more girly when she secretly wants to be. Now she's trying out what she likes, without having to stay within the role of 'one of the guys'. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. I guess a genuine apology and show of support is the solution."

"But it's James."

"Yep, you're right."

Though he hadn't been able to find you, he'd waited patiently for your return in the common room. Staring at the ceiling from his laid back position on the couch.

"Oh there you are, Y/N," He rushed to sit up to face you when you entered the room. If you were surprised by his presence, you didn't show it.

"We need to talk, I wanted to apologize." He breathed out, relieved at himself for having figured it out. "Also, I've missed you so much."

You felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You didn't want to be upset with him and felt incredibly relieved to hear him say that.

"I'm sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean for you to get offended or anything," James began.

"Yeah, you already said that." You frowned. "And I remember I told you that that was not a proper apology."

"I know, I know. It was shitty of me so I wanted to apologize. Properly you know? I'm really really sorry. I was a terrible friend and shouldn't have said the things I said. Please forgive me?" He proceeded to give you Bambi eyes in an attempt to convince you. It unsurprisingly worked.

You softly smiled up at him. "Okay". You barely got the word out before he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Great," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence that you two had been hugging in.

"Now you don't have to avoid me anymore, and you can stop sitting with the girls to prove your point, and join us again instead." He triumphantly continued.

What now?

You blanked. "I'm sorry?" You managed to ask.

"I get that I hurt you by saying your weren't a proper girl, but you don't have to pretend to prove your point by trying to be one." James stated, proud of himself that he figured it out.

"Because I can see that you don't like it, like your face gets all gloomy which is understandable because it isn't really your circle of people."

You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face.

"Fuck you James." You said, your voice coming out softer than you'd hoped. Tears were welling up again, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I do want that to be my circle of people? That I don't just want to be one of the guys all the time? Is it that crazy to think that I'm still a girl with feelings? That I want to feel pretty too? That I don't like being told by my supposed best friend that I'm basically ugly? That I hate to be compared to other girls like that?"

You were ranting and James had taken a step back, surprised by your outburst.

"No, that's not what I-", James tried to salvage the situation but you weren't having it.

"You've told me that stuff for as long as I can remember and I never told you otherwise because I was scared that you'd no longer want to hang out with me for not being a 'chill friend'. But you know what, I no longer want you to."

At this point, you angrily wiped your eyes to get rid of tears that were threatening to spill. "So fuck you". With that, you brushed past him, escaping upstairs to your room.

James Fleamont Potter felt absolutely miserable.

If anyone told James that you'd ever be more on his mind than Lily, he would call them ridiculous. But here he was, another week had passed and he was staring at your back as you were leaving with your friends for Hogsmeade again.

You weren't wearing your school uniform and robes anymore and James was surprised to see you wearing one of what he knew to be Lily's dresses.

'It suited you more than it suited Lily.' The unwarranted thought flashed through his mind and he shook his head with a scoff to himself. What was going on?

James also noticed that your hair was brushed and shining with a butterfly clip holding your hair in a bun. He wondered when you decided to change your hairstyle because he found that it framed your face perfectly.

'Not ridiculous at all,' he understood.

You looked absolutely perfect.

You turned your face a little and James could feel his head reeling. Have you always been this glowing? Was he just simply missing you? He didn't even realize that he hadn't spared Lily a glance- until Sirius mentioned her while they were having a drink - and a strange feeling washed over him at the thought.

You were running from Filch.

'Fuck I shouldn't have studied after hours, curfew was probably hours ago," you cursed to yourself and took a sharp right turn. You were trying to reach the secret passage right behind the big statue on the fourth floor when you saw the hallway light up because of Filches torch.

Forcing your legs to move faster, you were suddenly grabbed by the wrist. A hand was clasped over your mouth and you felt a heavy cloth fall over you.

You recognised the person pressed to your back immediately and tried not to melt in his embrace as Filch walked straight past the two of you, covered in the invisibility cloak.

You could feel his breath against your temple. His hand had dropped from your mouth, instead draping across your stomach now to rest on your side. The other held out in front of you to create space under the cloak. You shifted a little and finally turned your head and lifted it to look at him and thank him but you were unable to say anything for a moment.

You simply admired him.

The proximity of the two of you in that intimate embrace had something fluttering in your stomach and you harshly jerked away in denial when your feelings hit you.

Oh no.

Now, all suddenly? What changed? Does it really take one random moment to flip your world upside down?

You rushed to push the invisibility cloak out of your way and then left without sparing James another glance.

James couldn't force his legs to move to run after you, still reeling from about the exact same epiphany that you'd just run away from. Your gaze, his fast beating heart and the urge he had felt to lean down for a kiss had confirmed his conflicted feelings of the past few days since he'd seen you leave for Hogsmeade.

The following morning, you'd had the chance to properly process the happenings of last night.

Your conclusion was that you felt guilty that you hadn't even expressed your gratitude. It was rude, you figured. Even if you were overwhelmed by the sudden wave of realization that came crashing down on you, it was rude.

So you pushed your confused feelings aside and marched up to him when you found him in the great hall.

"Thanks, I owe you." You awkwardly said, stopping at his spot at the Gryffindor table. All while absolutely not having forgotten about the fact that the last time you had said something to him, you'd flipped him off and told him to go fuck himself.

James was absolutely beaming. "Yeah you do, but no worries, I'll cash it in right away." This was his chance. He would make up for his behavior and act on his feelings right now.

"How about a date?"

There was a long silence. Your heart plummeted to the ground. Right. James. Lily. Lily and James.

"What am I a magician?" You finally managed to sarcastically retort. "I'm a convincing person but not a miracle worker." You pulled your hand through your hair as you looked around the great hall to see if you could spot Lily.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." You forced a smile.

James, who had been mostly confused at your words, disregarded it completely in delight at your acceptance to go out with him, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant. Not that it would matter because he was going to prove what an amazing boyfriend he could be. If you'd accept him, of course.

He was grinning from ear to ear, which you mistook as excitement at the prospect of a potential date with Lily. So when you abruptly turned on your heels and marched over to Lily, James watched you confusedly.

And when he heard you try to talk Lily into going out with him, he wanted to crawl in a ditch and die. He stood there, frozen and recounting how you could've interpreted that wrongly.

You returned to him after a while with an apologetic smile. "Yeah sorry Prongs, she-"

"You", he blurted out.

You raised your eyebrows. "Me?" You repeated back.

"The date, I meant you. A-and me of course. Us, like you and me on a date. Together. I thought maybe Hogsmeade?" He managed to force the words out nervously.

There was a long silence and James' shoulders slumped a little. Even more when you finally answered.

"Uh, no?" You said in a questioning manner. James officially wanted to die now.

"You're sweet James, and I don't think you do it on purpose but you're not interested in me like that." You began, trying to convince not only James, but yourself as well.

James opened his mouth to argue but you quickly interrupted him before he could properly do so.

"James, you really don't. And you asking me out on a date when you've quite literally been drooling over Lily just last week as you have been doing for the past 5 years, that's not very nice to me." You frowned.

"Oh." He whispered. He was once again at a lack of words for a moment. Terrible new habit, he thought. This was not how he thought it would go.

"I'd still gladly go with you to Hogsmeade though?" You offered. "Just you know, not as an easy second choice date while you are obviously head over heels with her."

'I'm not', he wanted to tell you, but it was obvious that you wouldn't believe him. "Yeah okay," he weakly smiled. "Just the two of us though."

You nodded and stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, returning the hug.

With his face pressed in your hair, eyes closed, he decided that this situation wasn't too bad. He's fought for Lily's affection for years. He'd fight harder for yours.

Part two

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #marauders era #marauders #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter fic

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