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silversoulstardust · 1 year

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this is for @olyollyoxenfree , for encouraging my horny kazurei brainrot lol ily oly <3

have a 1.9k words of porn with barely any plot. MINORS DNI

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Miri’s arrival in the household had thrown everything off its axis.

It wasn’t enough for her to make it difficult for Kazuki and Rei to carry out their duties as a hitman, or mess with their regular day to day life schedule as two childless men, which was, okay, not as normal as any other two childless men living together because they weren’t assassin with sporadic schedules and irregular sleeping patterns, but with Miri’s presence around the house since Christmas, it had been increasingly difficult for Kazuki to get laid.

Which was fine at first.

Because they were tired most of the time. They chased her around, made sure she was alive and well fed, enrolled her in the best school with the best of everything, providing for her from top to toe with expensive goods and high quality school materials, all the while trying to make ends meet because holy shit having a child was so goddamn expensive. And they were so, so tired. Whenever Kazuki was feeling horny during their down time and having had to choose between sleeping and fucking, nine out of ten times he chose sleep. And Rei shared the same sentiment.

But once all the dust had settled, he started feeling it again. He had an itch that only Rei could scratch. Just watching Rei shirtless on the treadmill with sweat glistening on the beautifully carved back muscles made his dick twitch, reminiscing all the scratches he used to leave on those pale skin.

The problem was, Miri’s presence was constant. She would be at home whenever they were at home, so when they wanted to get down and dirty, she was always in the way. Miri would walk in on them in the kitchen, or barge into their bedroom after having a nightmare, or climb into the bathtub that was already too cramped up with two adults in it. At this point, Kazuki was worried to do more than just make out with Rei, because what if Miri caught them in the middle of the act, with him on his knees and Rei’s dick deep in his ass? That little girl would be scarred for life.

The opportunity, however, presented itself on one lazy Sunday afternoon, after they had a hefty meal for lunch. Miri was playing a video game against Rei and Kazuki was elbow deep in soap suds doing the dishes while humming to random songs that popped up in his brain. It wasn’t until it was too late that he realized the apartment was devoid of sound of carts crashing and random explosions, and his eyes flicked from the greasy plate in his hands to the video game screen paused on the TV, only soft background music playing from it. A beat later, he felt two strong arms wrapped around his waist, and a nose buried itself on the side of his neck, inhaling deep as Kazuki was pulled into a tight embrace from behind.

“Miri’s asleep,” breathed Rei against his skin, and it sent shivers down Kazuki’s spine. “Let’s do something productive.”

“I am being productive,” Kazuki resumed his washing, working through the pots now, keeping his voice steady. “And there’s a child sleeping literally five feet away from us.”

Rei rubbed his face against the side of Kazuki’s face like a docile cat, and somehow managed to get his hands under Kazuki’s shirt, skating his fingers against his ribs and chest. “I saw how you looked at me while I was running two days ago, Kazuki. I know you want me,” said Rei, oddly confident. “We’re hidden behind this big kitchen counter, she can’t see us from the couch. And she’s asleep. There’s that. Come on, I’ll be quiet. You just need to be quiet too.”

Kazuki turned his face slightly to look at Rei’s determined look, his eyebrows knitted in a twist. “Wait, are we doing it here?” he asked in a loud whisper, eyes bulging out almost out of its sockets. “You’re out of your fucking mind, Suwa Rei.”

Rei never truly smiled, not sincerely anyway, but there was a mischievous smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. His hand snaked down south to palm Kazuki over his sweatpants, his dick already half hard from having this conversation. The fact that Rei was plastered to his back and his hands roam free touching him all over was not helping. “You need to be more honest, Kazuki,” replied Rei, slowly moving his hand up and down, gently cupping his erection that was growing by the moment. “Just let me suck you off.”

A moment of silence stretched between them, then a heavy sigh followed. There was no way of talking Rei out of this whenever his mood strikes. “The magic word.”

“What?” Rei’s scowl deepened, confused.

“The magic word, Rei,” repeated Kazuki as he rinsed a small pot. “Say the magic word and I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

Rei let out a groan and rolled his eyes. “Please let me suck your dick. There. Happy?”

“Yup. Happy,” Kazuki grinned, placing a quick peck on Rei’s cheek. “So how are we doing this?”

Rei let his arms around Kazuki go and took a step back. He then pulled Kazuki back from the sink, but still close enough for him to work on the dishes if he hunched forward. With the flexibility of an acrobat, Rei slink down and kneeled between Kazuki’s legs, with his back and head against the cabinet door, and his face right in Kazuki’s crotch. Another shiver coursed through his body when Rei buried his face right in the pubic mound, inhaling it like it was the most intoxicating thing in the world, feeling Rei’s breath warming up his skin. From where Kazuki was standing though, he couldn’t see what Rei was doing, because his view was obscured by the apron.

“I can’t see you,” whined Kazuki, adjusting his stance so it was optimum for Rei to fuck his dick with his mouth.

“Then remove the apron,” retorted Rei, as he pulled Kazuki’s sweatpants and let it pool around his ankles.

“But I’m doing dishes,” but Kazuki’s complaint went unheard because in one quick swoop he felt wetness enveloped his length, much like a sucker punch to the gut that threw him off his game, causing him to buck forward. He dropped the pan he was holding back into the sink, thankfully the clatter was muffled by the clogged up suds water. There was a pause in Rei’s movement, and Kazuki froze in position too, waiting to see if the noise had awoken Miri from her afternoon nap. Moments passed, but no other sound filled the space other than soft background music of Wario Cart and small running tap water in the sink.

Kazuki moved his pelvis to let Rei know it was safe for them to continue. Rei took the hint, taking Kazuki’s now raging hard cock deeper and deeper into his mouth, inch by inch, until he could feel Rei’s nose buried in his pubes. Kazuki finally had the opportunity to appreciate the velvety sensation of Rei’s warm and wet mouth, the push and pull on his erection hitting at the back of Rei's throat in an embarrassingly sloppy rhythm. It had been too long since they last had this. Kazuki had to bite his lower lip hard to clamp a loud moan that was threatening to rip out of him from how good he felt, with molten orgasm coiling at the base of his stomach bidding its time to spill.

He was completely lost in the ecstasy that none of the dishes were done. There were still a couple of pots left in the sink, submerged in the soapy water untouched. Every time he attempted to wash up, Rei was pulling stunts with his genitals; teasing the slit with his tongue, or cradling his scrotums and sucking it like a treat in his mouth, or simply deepthroating himself with Kazuki’s raging cock. He could feel Rei’s satisfactory hums and moans, feeling the vibration from the back of his throat through his dick. It took everything Kazuki had to stand tall and not cave from the overwhelming sensation, hands tight against the edge of the sink, knuckles white.

A sudden movement from the couch took Kazuki by surprise. He instinctively crowded Rei against the cabinet, drawing his legs shut to cover his presence, even though Miri was on the other side of the kitchen on the couch and couldn’t possibly see where Rei was. There was a punctuated groan that escaped Rei as the movement shoved Kazuki’s hard cock deep inside his mouth.

Miri rubbed her eyes, voice thick with sleep and eyes still half-lidded. She took a stock around the apartment and asked, “Where’s papa Rei?”

“Papa Rei went out to the convenience store to get something,” Kazuki managed, keeping his voice and breathing even. Rei was adjusting himself, probably not wanting to suffocate to death from a dick in his windpipe, head bobbing away and still sucking Kazuki off at a time like this. Unbelievable. “Go back to sleep, Miri, and when you wake up again he’ll definitely come back with your favorite pudding.”

For a moment it looked like Miri wanted to protest, but the gravity pull over her eyelids were much stronger than her will to stay awake. She managed to raise a thumbs up before slumping back down on the couch, and it was quiet again moments later.

Rei took the opportunity to ramp up his movement. With one hand he gripped the base of Kazuki’s cock and moved it in tandem with his mouth, up and down, up and down, up and down in crescendo until Kazuki’s knees buckled and he whites out, coming inside Rei’s mouth with Rei’s name falling out of his lips.

It felt like they just completed an intense mission, what they just accomplished. Kazuki finally threw in the towel and shut the faucet, giving up on dish washing to sit on the floor next to Rei. It was only after that he realized Rei was stroking himself with one hand as he was sucking him off, and he was on the verge of spilling his load. Kazuki took it upon himself to lend a helping hand. With a few strokes and kisses on the corner of Rei’s jaw, thick ropes of cum splattered against Rei’s chest and the kitchen floor.

They sat quietly next to each other, steadying their breath. Kazuki removed the remnant of his cum that was dripping from Rei’s chin using his hand and wiped his fingers against Rei’s already sullied shirt. They exchanged a gaze, staring deep into each other’s eyes before Kazuki laughed and a small smile cracked open on Rei’s face.

“You’re a freak,” said Rei, amused. “You got off getting sucked out in the open apartment with other people in it.”

Kazuki scrunches up his face, mockingly offended. “Says the freak who suggested we fuck in the kitchen with our daughter sleeping five feet away from the counter.”

“That was a close call,” Rei mused. They both leaned back against the counter, letting a comfortable silence settled between them. Kazuki may be imagining it, but it sounded like a small huff of laughter escaped Rei’s throat, and it sounded really sweet. “Looks like we’re gonna need Kyu-chan babysitting service for this particular need after all.”

#buddy daddies #buddy daddies fanfic #kazurei #suwa rei #kurusu kazuki #rei x kazuki #chromie writes #chrmz.txt #im gonna put this one up on ao3 tomorrow bc its already 1am here lol

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polizwrites · 1 year

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Thimbles and Acorns

A last-minute fill for my @steverogersbingo A5- Pirate square. It's a bit of a squishy fill, but I hope you like it anyways!

An ad on the radio sparks a childhood memory, which in turn sends sparks flying between Bucky and Steve. [630 words]

Bucky stamped the snow off his boots in the hallway as he unlocked the door of his and Steve’s apartment. He could already smell the cabbage stew bubbling on the stove; it was the third -- and hopefully last -- day they’d been eating it. With payday coming tomorrow, he was hoping they could get some meat on the table for Sunday.

Steve was already home, sitting next to the lamp and doing some mending. “Hey, Buck. Sorry about the leftover stew, but I got a fresh loaf of bread from Mrs. O’Meara. There’s just enough butter left for a couple of slices each.”

“Sounds good. Thanks.” Bucky’s traitorous heart warmed at the domestic scene; not that he wished Steve were a dame or anything, of course. But a part of him wanted nothing more than for the two of them to live together as if they were married; after all, he was more or less in love with his best friend.

They turned on the radio to catch the news as they ate, and after an ad played for a stage production of Peter Pan, Steve chuckled. “I remember you reading me that book, what, ten, eleven years ago? I think it was when I had pleurisy. You did all the voices, even Wendy and Tinkerbell.”

Bucky winced a little at the memory; he’d been too young then to realize just how sick Steve really had been. “Yeah, and once you were feeling better, you insisted on playing Hook and Pan. And of course I had to be the bad pirate captain.”

“You were bigger,” Steve shrugged. “And besides, you had fun roaring out ‘I’ll get you, Peter Pan!’, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did,” Bucky admitted with a grin, picking up their dishes. “Hey, I wonder what happened to our wooden swords?”

“Probably got passed down to some other neighborhood kid when we thought we were too old to play make-believe.” Steve replied, with a bit of wistfulness in his voice. He sat back down next to the pile of mending, giving it an oddly speculative look. “You remember the part of the book where Wendy wanted to give Peter a kiss, but he didn’t know what it was, so she gave him a thimble instead?”

“Yeah, and when she wanted a kiss, she had to call it a thimble, so he wouldn’t get confused.” Bucky wasn’t sure where Steve was going with this, but he was game to play along.

“I remember thinking it was silly, how Peter got them confused.” Steve stared down at the fabric in his hands, idly bunching it up and smoothing it out as he spoke. “But looking back, I realize now that it’s because he’d never had anyone who loved him.”

Kneeling down in front of Steve, Bucky took Steve’s restless hands in his. “Hey now, pal, don’t be feeling sorry for yourself. I know you’re gonna find a gal someday who sees just how great a guy you really are.”

Steve pressed his lips together as if in denial. “Maybe that’s not what I want.” He picked up the thimble, spinning it around on the tip of one finger. “What if ... I said I wanted to give you one of these instead?”

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat; surely Steve wasn’t saying what he thought he was. “Well, seeing as I don’t have an acorn button to give you in return, I’m not sure what to do.”

Steve leaned forward, just a little, a challenge in his eyes. “You sure about that, Buck?”

Bucky took a chance, reaching out to pull Steve toward him. Their lips barely brushed together, but it was enough to send fireworks shooting through his entire being. “I always said I’d get you, Peter Pan.”

A lazy almost-smirk slowly crossed Steve's face. “And what are you gonna do now that you got me, Hook?”

#writing stuff #fanficlet #steve rogers bingo 2022 #pre war stucky #shameless self promo

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sjw-publishings · 4 years

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Man-aging your time

Foreign Relations

(Asian twist on @dumb-and-jocked story, Corporate Progression)

Edgar Han was never fond of conferences, specially ones he was forced to attend due to pressure from his company. As a college intern, he gave it his all to ensure a good grade and possibly a head-start in his business.

He was wrong.

Working at Wong.Inc, the 21 year old was constantly asked and tasked with menial errands all day, filing papers and serving coffee. Now he was asked to be an usher for a conference meeting with TenHaken Corporation.

Dressed in a black polo and khaki pants, he tapped his dress shoes impatiently, being forced to come far too early and way before any of the other interns showed up. He was pretty lean, sort of lanky as he did not do sports. Long hair was tied to a ponytail, as he kept it maintained and groomed so as to not leave a bad impression.

He wondered if it was because they were aware that he and his boyfriend, two of their interns, were gay. But he seemed to be getting the shorter end of the stick...maybe cause he actually cared about his grades and future career, they ended up treating him harsher?

Nevertheless, he did have a slimmer of hope, maybe if he left a good impression today, he could maybe...

“Aren’t you going to shake hands with me?”

Standing before him was a tall, handsome daddy who was bulked up with muscle, thick biceps straining against his suit, and the most devious looking grin that screamed corporate evil...but....it was so hot.

“S...Sorry Mr TenHaken Sir!”

He extended out his hand, as the Boss of the other company grabbed it and gave it a good shook. Snapping his mind away from his worries...and distracting it with...his strong scent infused with cologne.

And those hands, those warm..., and manly hands.

“So you are one of the few interns that...?”

“Yes...alongside my boyfriend...”

He responded in a daze, entranced by the scent. Yes he may go through several hoops just to impress the higher ups, even at the expense of his relationship with his boyfriend, but he would never reveal their relationship in a workplace setting...especially considering some of the higher ups may be homophobic.

A brief wave of disgust shown in the Boss’s countenance, before he returned to grinning madly as he let go of the shake. Giving a firm pat on the young asian man’s back, he spoke in his richly, deep voice.

“Splendid, you’d be perfect...”

The man sauntered into the conference room, bringing along most of his musky aroma and thick cologne with him...but of course, leaving some behind. The young intern blinked, realising what a poor attempt of a greeting that was, and to the BOSS of the other company too!

What is he going to do?

“Did ya watch the game last night?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, a suburban looking man in a suit asked him the question, sticking out his hand with a dopey looking grin. Almost sporting a similar thickness of the cologne the Boss wore...but more mild...and friendly.

“Uh...maybe I did?”

He grabbed ahold of the other mans hand, giving a firm shake as rehearsed. He may just be an intern, and maybe he fumbled with the greeting with the Boss, but he was going to give it his all with the next few introductions.

The shake, while it was a matter of seconds, seemed to last longer in his mind, as he felt the warm spreading from the thickness of those fatherly palms, and rough wrinkles that had definitely were from the years of prime in his youth.

“What maybe I did? Of course I did!”

Of course I did? He thought, scratching his head with his other hand, which felt oddly warm as well. Mirroring the other, as those palms expanded with a former grip, sun-kissed tan bathing their digits as it spread all over their palms. Crunching the older man’s hands, as the university intern smirked.

“Of course I did!”

“Atta Boy!”

The older father figure looped his arms around him, as he...slightly reluctantly, did the same. The tan had spread down his wrists, past the forearms and to those biceps. Giving a firm masculine boost as testosterone swelled his arms, thickening like he definitely lifted a lot.

He wasn’t into sports much, but he did lift a little...especially after some pestering with Mr Craig, the really nice man from the other company. Tasked to do some stock checking and other stuff before the event, they chatted quite a bit and surprisingly had clique very well.

“So what are ya doing out here shaking hands?”

“Oh I...uh was asked to shake hands?”

“What are ya talking about? That stuff was for the interns!”

Bedgaric blinked, interns? But wasn’t he...no. He moved past that stage a couple of years ago, and thinking back, the company never asked him to go stand at the door and shake hands when he was interning in Wong.Inc.

But he felt like...he needed to do this. Setting a good example for the future interns, and hoping they don’t slack off like his lazy young boyfriend. Straightening his back, not noticing he was now about the same height as Craig.

“Its merely in my good nature...gotta reflect well on the company!”

“And that’s right why we bonded right away!”

The man beamed, feeling at ease with his colleague as they were often paired together to strengthen relationships between both companies. Despite the obvious age and ranking differences, it was clear to the company that he was fit for the job.

As his mentor-figure rubbed against his sore shoulders, his shoulder blades clacked, as it was evident that the dark tan worked its magic there. Working out and making up for those wasted years, the 28 year old definitely made gains as his back rippled against the Polo tee he wore. Strapping muscles that he could recall several men, and girls ogling after him on a daily basis. Though he was into boyfriend Conan, many others were also into him too.

“Anyways...remember that bit? TOUCHDOWN!”

“Ah yeah! Man was that CLOSE!”

Resting his strong muscular arm easily on the other man, he was really into football, though he never made the team when he was younger. Too much of a pansy back then, but Craig really manned him up like the big brother figure he is.

Often watching football during the breaks, and a couple of roughhousing with Craig and a couple of his older friends. They had a blast!

Bendgardict, being the tall and bulky asian man he is, was assigned to be on defence. Recalling the impact the football nearly hitting his core, but his strong goalkeeper-esque hands catching it...definitely something he picked up during his soccer days.

Indeed, he had played soccer a ton, he was a jock after all. Legs thickening to hard trunks, as the hot tan spread with light dusting of hair at every spot. Feet surely sprung forth, as the heavy clunking of those dark polished dress shoes now spotted his attire.

Giving a huge SWING to Craig, broad shoulders rippling beneath his attire, he crossed his arms and smirked. Clutching every football toss to his core, abdominals crunching numbers as pectorals bounced back with even more force, a defender to the core, that’s the man he was.

Standing firm and tall, his polo shirt could barely contain the rippling maturity as the sound of satisfying rips echoed his larger bod. Material shifting to a more presentable cotton, bleached white as sleeves rolled themselves neatly down his arms. Spotting on a white dress shirt with the first few buttons unbuttoned, accenting his frame like the Chad he is.

He had some hesitations displaying himself, but he shook it off, knowing if God gave him a body like this, he should use it to the fullest. God? Must be Craig’s Church influencing him quite a lot, he believed, still new to it though.

“From production manager to executive director...Eugene definitely went bonkers last night...”

“Hah! Serves him right to go against our team!”

The two of them continued chatting about work experiences, the game, and altogether men stuff. Time flew by effortlessly, alongside maturity. The Associate ranking up as they laughed heartily.

It wasn’t long until the asian man surpassed his peer in height, stopping at 6ft 2. He laughed heartily like a big brother, even though he was clearly younger...not by much, 5 years or so.

But he certainly ranked up a lot, after all, he did share similar beliefs to his higher ups and colleagues...those ‘hip’ millennials call them boomers, but their values really resonated within him. Something his...intern would not understand, with all his constant flirting in the office.

Presentability. An upper coating of expensive fabric layered over his dress shirt, as well as replacing that of his pants. Beige with faint magenta straight lines, ironing the wrinkles over his suit pants and jacket combo with a matching pocket square.

He had earned quite a handful sum after all, spending it wisely in investing in stocks and proper attire. Not like those games that millennials waste their money on.

Masculinity. This was done without question, which represented his sunbaked complexion from working out and bonding with other men in the field.

It was also without question that the ridiculous ponytail began slowly retracting upwards, with sides shaved like a real man always would, especially in sports. Combing sideways with neat dabbing of gel, as the hard crusty dusting of aftershave went all over his upper lip and strong jaw.

He was nice, but pretty jock-centred in his beliefs. Both in his faith and how a man oughta behave. Big strong and masculine, the provider of the household, man and woman.

Man and woman...?

“Will see ya and the family on church this Sunday!”

“See ya!”

His mouth instinctively responded on autopilot, as his goofy grin waved goodbye to his long time friend, colleague, and church mate. His eyes blinked momentarily in light shock, making way to the bathrooms, and quickly closing behind one of the stalls.

LOCK!

“What...what in tarnation is happening to me? Haha?”

The stresses melted away into a grin, he always had a good natured stress-free persona, even when that gay intern confessed to him when he wasn’t into such things...wait no....

He felt compelled to...what? He barely knew the intern, plus he was more into ladies...in fact, he was sure his buddy Craig mentioned something about a family right? The air conditioning neutralising his heat emitting, he quickly fished for his-

“So warm...so fatherly...”

The middle aged man tugged his breeding tool beneath his pants, letting out soft groans like he was young. Ah the younger days, so simple, when men just liked women...when men just liked women!

Blushing to himself, as he tugged ferociously, letting out loud gasps as he felt his behind tightening with a SPANK. Disciplining away any penetration like his father would if he did not excel in his studies, swelling up to a sweet bubble butt reserved for...his love one.

He was raised in a traditional household after all, strong honour and an expertise in Mandarin Chinese. Which was why he landed his position in the first place.

But of course, he thanked God for everything after coming to know him in his college days. Strictness mixed with Kindness, Honour mixed with a loving father, Mr Benedgadict Kan understood who he was, as the firm but gentle brushes against his package were too much to bear.

“Forgive me...C...C....Cindy!”

He was a faithful man wasn’t he? It feels strange to even think about such ‘millennial’ thoughts! Haha, never understood them. Thankfully his wife Cindy and him raised their children well in the lord! Speaking of her...oh man!

“Cindy...you’re so beautiful!”

Gone were the dates of a gay man, replacing by a marriage lasting over two decades. Time well spent with her, His heart pumped in love with HER! Manhood rose in length and girth at the thought of her luscious hair, and soft lips that just made the man outta him.

Man and woman

THRUST!

She is your wife, and you are her husband.

THRUST!

You are a father.

“Ooooaaaah!”

The forty eight year old asian man gave a huge holler as he let out the remains of his homosexuality in an innocent bliss, slumping back as his eyelids closed without hesitation.

Stains looped around his left ring finger as a good man stays devoted to his wife. His member remained sturdy, hard and manly, but at rest. A golden necklace materialised, symbolising the gift she got him on their anniversary.

His married hand gave a good firm pat on his pouch, instinctively putting back his tool into hiding and zipping his pants up.

Almost as if Benedict Kang never tugged his manhood by himself, only engaging in it when multiplying with his wife. He was a good faithful man after all, his new genetics beamed to reflect that as he slowly opened his beady eyes.

“Oh lordee...Where am I?”

Managing Director Kang was your all around nice boss...dad guy. Ruffling his gelled hair, he laughed as he remembered praying and thanking the lord for his successes in his company and in his life.

Prayer time was always priority. He got results done, and had more than enough time to spend time with his family as well as watch the game. It had cut close sometimes, nearly missing a business proposal due to his son’s football game in school, but he always made it in the Bened-Nick of time.

Speaking of which...

“Oh shucks! What time is it?”

He quickly fished himself up from his mediation pronto, unlocking the door and strolling down towards the door entrance of the conference meeting, he quickly glanced at his ‘IanAs’ watch.

“Just in time! The Conference meeting was about to start!”

Mr Benedict Kang flashed his most genuine grin, stress melting away from the atmosphere as his wholesome presence was made known as he jovially walked in.

“Amen to that!”

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certifiedskywalker · 5 years

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Academic Misgivings (Part Ten) - Peter Parker

You and Peter Parker aren’t friends, but you’re not entirely enemies either. You don’t like him but he always tries to be nice to you. He has everything you’ve ever wanted and you’ll do anything to show him that you can make it on your own. But can you?

Things are looking up! The truth is out there and Y/N and Peter finally know where they stand with each other. But will this relationship last? Or will outside forces bring it crumbling down?

/ PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR/PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE

It felt like there was pure electricity in your veins. Every inch of you buzzed and hummed with a new sense of life. After Saturday, after you told Peter how you felt about him, your whole body thrummed in some Spring-like symphony. You barely registered Sunday when the Sun knocked on your windowsill.

You only got out of bed when your phone chirped with a text alert. In a flash, your covers were thrown to the side and your cold feet hit the floor in a matter of seconds. Your phone was charging on your dresser, it’s screen illuminated and reflected in the small mirror of your vanity. The sight of yourself, oddly, made you smile. Your lips were stuck in a smile, as they had been the moment Peter grabbed your hand. Silently you hoped that you would see yourself smile more.

Your phone chimed once more, ever impatient when it came to your attention. Although, you the alert that greeted you sent a flurry of all sorts of insects a buzz inside your stomach.

PETER: mornin :)

YOU: good morning

PETER: i told May about shopping

PETER: but she has a shift tonight so she cant

YOU: Oh, okay.

PETER: she can do Monday after school but we dont have to wait

You bit the inside of your cheek in a poor attempt at suppressing a grin. Eager to reply, your thumbs hovered over the keyboard of the texting app as you thought of your answer. Peter added to his last message both you could reply.

PETER: i mean it we would be getting to it late so the dresses and stuff might not be cool

PETER: but you would make any dress look cool

PETER: pretty, i mean.

PETER: sorry

PETER: i’m screwing this up

You beamed at the series of texts and shook your head. As you typed out a reply, you rocked back on forth on the heels, too happy to keep still.

YOU: You’re not screwing anything up, Pete. You’re being endearing

You waited for a beat and when Peter didn’t reply you wrote out another message.

YOU: It’s sweet and very cute

PETER: cute?

YOU: Yes, cute. :)

PETER: your cute too

YOU: You mean *you’re and thanks Pete

A laugh slipped past your lips. Loud giggling was a sound so foreign to you it sounded fake as your laugh echoed within the walls of your room.

PETER: wow ok i see how it is

PETER: call me cute then insult my grammar

YOU: Maybe…. :) and I don’t mind waiting until Monday. I could use May’s help with finding a dress.

PETER: your mom still isn’t home?

You felt your smile fall flat, but not entirely give into a frown. You had been so consumed with what had happened the night before you hadn’t been paying attention. During the night, you thought you heard a door slam but your mind was so lost in some fantasy you felt you had imagined it. Even if your mother was home, dress shopping would not be on top of her to-do list.

YOU: No. But May is more fashionable anyway.

PETER: ok, she’ll be happy to hear that

PETER: i gotta run, see you tomorrow?

YOU: Yes, you’ll see me tomorrow. We have school.

PETER: oh yeah :)

YOU: Go you goof

You set your phone back on the top of the dresser and left it to charge as you padded out of your bedroom. The apartment held a chill trapped in the air. One so strong you shivered and wished you had snagged your sweatshirt for the trip to the kitchen. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, some bowls tucked in on the top looked freshly used. The next step you took creaked and a shuffling sound to your left made you jump.

On the couch, the crumpled form of your father laid on his side. One arm was completely extended, flailing off the edge of the cushions entirely. His mouth was pressed in a line and even in sleep, his jaw moved, tensed, working through some stress that haunted his dreams. Your mother was nowhere in sight. She hadn’t been for three years.

The euphoria that Peter’s texts had given curved down, off the high. You had been pitched off a cliff and back into reality. A reality where brilliant boys like Peter Parker did not mix with girls like you. Bravely, with Peter’s words repeated in your mind like a mantra, you pushed the doubt away. He wouldn’t care about your family, about their flaws; Peter accepted everyone, helped everyone. He would stick by you.

Quietly, you back over to the couch and plucked the blanket from off the back of it. With a tenderness you remembered from your childhood, you rested the thick blanket over your father's sleeping form.

“Sorr-ry…” he whispered, his body shuddering as he spoke. You pressed your lips together to keep from making a sound. Whatever dream he was having was not a good one. It felt more and more like worst fears and nightmares ran in the family.

You remembered times of his smiling face. Trips to the zoo to marvel at dozing lions and laugh at funny the penguins looked when they waddled. His smile had faded, alongside his presence after aliens fell from the sky and destroyed the home he had built for you and your mother. Now he worked day in and day out, with Sunday and Monday mornings off every other month to make sure you both had enough to eat. When you mother had left, he barely spoke. He wouldn’t smile anymore, ask you how your day was and that was all. It was like living with a ghost sometimes, a haunted, weary soul.

Tiptoeing, you crept back down the hall and into your room. It was best to leave him to rest. Plus, you had studying to do. Your books laid on your small oak desk with book covers taunting you as you took a seat in your rickety desk chair. A sigh passed over your lips as you grabbed The Great Gatsby. Hopefully, you could stay focused and keep your thoughts about Monday at the side.

As you ducked into the books’ pages you realized, that would simply be impossible.

Sunday had dragged with little excitement. You had spent the day studying or trying to study at the very least. Too many ideas and hypothetical scenarios about Monday swirled about you, pestered you as you moved through the day. Your father had left for work soon after you had seen him. An all-day shift at a grocery store outside of Queens took him away and left you to your own devices. Although your mind was too lost in thought too much of anything productive.

Even as you eagerly tucked yourself into bed as the Sunday sunset, your brain still worked. You thought of Peter as you and May studied fictitious dresses. His lazy smile when he would see you in a dress for the first time. Would May be able to tell that you were both something more? Had Peter already told her?

The steady flow of worrying questions turned into a somewhat tumultuous lullaby as you drifted in and out of sleep. A hybrid of dream and nightmare gave you what you wanted only to take it away. Peter’s face with a smile then a frown as his figure faded from your sleep-vision. Needless to say, sleep did not come easy. If it did, it didn’t stay long as you woke up a few times during the night.

When you woke for the last time, with the sound of your alarm ringing in your ears. Like a ghost, the shrill haunted you as you got ready for the day. Your walk to school was one of belly aching excitements. You were going to see Peter after you told him that you liked him. He liked you too. It all felt like a dream, some horrible trick; but it was real.

It was as real as Peter as he leaned against the lockers near your own. His lips were pressed in a line, brown eyes searching the faces of all who passed by. Peter was looking for you. The smile that spread across your features must have acted as some sort of beacon or maybe your heart was hammering louder than you thought because Peter met your gaze in an instant. A soft smile and the scent of Peter’s cologne greeted you as you walked to your locker.

“Hi,” he breathed out as if the word had been waiting for its appearance as well as your own. You felt heat rush up your neck and curl like wisps of smoke in your cheeks.

“Hi,” you returned, “you waited?” Peter’s expression shifted from relaxed to shuffling and stuttering. His arms crossed and uncrossed in record time.

“I did but I...if you don’t like it...I thought it would be nice.” Pink kissed the tips of his ears and you smiled at the sight.

“It is nice.” You lifted a hand and brushed it against his arm. The touch shocked you, literally and metaphorically. A zap of static zipped up your fingers and you felt your heart melted into a puddle of a surprise when Peter leaned into the touch.

“Ok, I’ll do it again then,” Peter said with a calm smile on his face. You nodded before you turned your attention to the lock. As you entered your combination, Peter pressed the side of his head against the neighboring locker. When you snuck a glance at him, you saw that he was already staring at you.

“Hi,” you murmured again in the hopes of deterring your growing bashfulness

“Hi,” he repeated and you let out a shy giggle. “Oh, and should we meet here after school?”

“We can, yeah,” you said as you opened your locker. You plucked your math textbook from the dark depths before you shut the metal door with a clang. Peter’s brown eyes studied your face and you gave him a soft smile. “What?”

“Is it weird now?”

“What is it?”

“Us,” Peter admitted. “I mean, I like you and you like me so it’s not weird but it kind of feels that way, right? Maybe it’s just ‘cause I haven’t-”

“Pete,” you rested a hand on his cheek, something you had wanted to do since you realized you had feelings for him. “It’s not weird, you’re being weird.”

He let out a laugh and you grinned at the sound. “Am I?”

“No, but I get what you’re saying,” you let your hand fall from his cheek. While the action was new, it felt right; it felt natural. “But the circumstances were weird. It’s not every day a tutor and a tutee gets together.”

“Tutee?” Peter raised a brow at you with a grin splayed out on his features.

“The person being tutored,” you explained. You paused before sighing, “you think it’s a funny word.”

“I don’t think it is a word,” Peter said through a laugh.

“Well...it is now,” you took a step away from your locker and out into the current of the hallway. Students marched to and fro, getting ready for first period as the clock ticked down the seconds.

“Y/N, what about proper grammar conventions?” Peter teased as he fell into step at your side. You let out a huff but your amusement was clear on your face.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” you pondered aloud and you heard Peter stifle a laugh.

“Our mistake, though. A good mistake.” As Peter spoke, his knuckles brushed against yours. The entire world melted away until all that remained was you and Peter. Your fingers splayed and reached for his. When you pinkie knocked against his, you curled yours around it.

You heard Peter hum something but you were too lost in this new reality to totally hear it. Mindlessly, your feet carried you through the hall with Peter at your side. He spoke up again but your world was still so fuzzy. You kept walking until you saw a figure sulking towards you and Peter, headed straight towards you.

“Y/N? Why is MJ looking at you like that?” Peter’s questions finally broke through as the rose-colored lenses lifted from your eyes. MJ’s dark eyes were glued on you as she pushed her way through the hallway. It didn’t look as if she were angry but slightly panicked. The mild annoyance in her face was always there.

“I-I-”

“Y/N,” MJ stopped right in front of you and Peter.

“Hi, MJ,” Peter chirped. She sent a look his way, something entirely unreadable.

“Peter,” she turned her gaze back to you, “I ran into Flash.”

“Oh?” You furrowed your brows in confusion. However, your befuddlement did nothing to quell the sudden and furious storm of dread brewing in your stomach. Flash.

“He asked if I had seen you or if we had a class together.” You untangled Peter’s pinkie from your own and you felt the air drop around you.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just told him to shut up and he told me he had a surprise for you.”

“What does that mean?” Peter asked, cutting through the conversation. You looked at him and saw his jaw was tensed. Was he jealous? He turned his gaze to you and, instead of anger, you saw concern. “What does he mean?”

“I don’t kno-”

A high pitched whine pierced through the air, out from the intercoms that lines the walls of the hallway. Students stopped shuffling at the sound, waiting for whatever early-morning announcement couldn’t wait until school had actually begun. Crackling on the end of the microphone broke the whine and someone cleared their throat.

“Midtown High, I have a special announcement from our very own Y/N L/N. You may think that aliens are the true villains or maybe that Spiderman is the true menace, but it seems Y/N has been the darkness in our midst all along.”

“Who is that?” Someone asked but you knew. It was Flash. Whatever voice modulator he was using could not hide the goblin quality of his voice from you. You glanced in the direction of the voice that asked the question and saw a few people from your history class. With widened eyes, they stared at you, waiting for whatever villainous message Flash had planned to share.

“What does that mean?” Peter’s voice pulled you back to yourself. You grabbed his hand and his brown eyes met your gaze. It hit you all at once. Flash was going to tell them about Peter, about how you both had schemed to ruin him.

“Peter, I have to tell you something,” you gushed. You had to beat Flash to it, tell your side of the story before he got the chance. “Before this, before I got to-”

“I..want Peter off the team ...I'm...using Peter. ...leave me alone...Peter ...entitled piece of shit.” Your voice with gravel quality rang out over the speaker, but it wasn’t your voice. It was too low, too edited and pieced together. It almost sounded mechanic but the words spoken were your own. Your stomach dropped. The phone call on Saturday, Flash’s threat….

A profound silence filled the hallway as the speaker cut off. An echo, your own heartbeat pounded in your ears. With a simple audio trick, Flash had ripped a hole in the hope you had built for yourself. You felt your limbs grow cold and numb with the realization. The whole school had heard.

“Y/N, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Peter’s voice broke the glass that had gathered around you and the vacuum of silence stopped whirring in your ears. The happiness you had held, in the shape of Peter’s hand, slipped from your grasp. His brown eyes were squinted but it didn’t stop the welling tears as they threatened to spill over. “Y/N?”

“I…” You took a step back away from Peter. His brows were knitted together in confusion and you felt bile rise up in your throat.

“Y/N, is this...did you...a lie?”

“N-No, Peter, it’s not...it’s not like that.”

“But it was? This whole time?” His voice cracked and you imagined it was nothing compared to the shattered pieces of his heart.

“No…” you whimpered, your voice failing you. “No, Pete it…” Eyes. All the eyes in the vicinity were glued on you and Peter. The Shakespearean drama unfolding in the middle of the hallway had captured everyone’s attention. Your throat was closing with panic, making so you could only choke out the next few words. “I-I’m sorry.”

You turned around and ran down the hall, as far away as you could from Peter Parker.

Your feet carried you out of the school, wove through the crowd amassing at the entrance as the bell rang. By the time you made it down the block, your chest was heaving. You hadn’t run that fast in a long time and it didn’t help that a series of silent sobs racked your form. To catch your breath, you slumped against a brick wall of a storefront for support. People, much too busy to wonder what you were doing out of school, passed you by with cups of coffee clutched tightly in their hands.

You looked up from the passersby and across the street. The slightly yellowed lights of the coffee shop’s interior shown through the front window. The tables lining the windowsill were empty, letting the glow shine out in the still brightening sky. Golden edges of the horizon stood out against the dark blue of morning.

A sudden hunger overwhelmed with sharp stomach pain. You hadn’t eaten breakfast, too eager to see Peter to spend a minute longer in your apartment. Now, you felt too nauseous to eat despite the pang of hunger. What you wanted was a place to be alone.

You crossed the way, barely caring to look either way down the street. A car honked as you darted along the road but you were too consumed with wiping the evidence of tears off of your face. When you felt satisfied with your effort, you pulled open the door of the coffee shop. The heat of brewing javas and the smell of freshly baked cookies welcomed you with a warmth that, in the present moment, you felt you didn’t deserve.

“Hey, you! My favorite customer!” A soft voice greeted you from behind the counter although, at first glance, you didn’t recognize the face accompanying it. At least not the hair. “Oh, yeah, changed it up a little,” the perky barista explained as she pinched a few strands of her now blue hair between her fingers. “Got tired of the pink.”

“It looks nice,” you sniffle as you speak, eyes glancing over the menu. “Any new teas?”

“We have a cinnamon apple tea,” she said with a smile, “it’s like apple cider but not as tart, ya know.” You nodded and gave her a half-hearted smile. She returned the expression, mirrored the sadness that you knew was much too readable in your red-rimmed eyes.

“I’ll take one of those then.” You sniffled again as you pulled out a few dollar bills to pay. The brightly colored barista hit a few buttons on the cash register and recited the order.

“So one apple cinnamon tea and one fresh snickerdoodle cookie,” she said pleased. She looked up at you with a smile, even as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I didn’t order a-”

“You look like you need one,” she said and tipped her head at your eyes. She handed you a tissue from the counter, “and it’s on the house. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you, I don’t know what to say,” you gushed, overwhelmed by the kindness. You were only used to Peter being so kind. When the rest of your life had been lonely it felt like every good thing someone did for you was a treasure.

“You don’t have to say a thing. It’ll be right out.”

It felt like a mere few minutes had passed before a warm cup of tea and baked cookie were in your hands. With another series of ‘thank yous’ said to the barista, you made your way to the table tucked in the far corner. As you waited for your tea to cool down enough to drink, you picked at the snickerdoodle. You broke off pieces of it to eat, weary that if you ate it too fast it might not stay down.

When you had worked through half of the delicious snack, you looked up. The empty seat across from you seemed to echo. If you listened hard enough, strained your ears to the point of lightheadedness, you could almost hear Peter’s laugh. It was the same laugh that he showed whenever you made an inadvertent joke or mocked the sentence structure of a decathlon practice question. That laugh was not the same as the little chuckle Peter gave you when you teased him.

Part of you cringed at the thought. There had been a point where you had meant the words you teased him with. At some point, you had told yourself you hated Peter. How could you have done that without knowing him? Had you jealousy been that deep?

Obviously it had been, you thought to yourself bitterly. You had willing teamed up with Flash, that was how deeply your envy had been. Now, through some twisted sense of fate and Peter’s charm, all you felt was shame. Shame and sadness seemed to come hand-in-hand. With the regret came tears, tears that cascaded down your cheeks and on the napkin placed before you.

You wanted to blame it all on Flash. He had turned green with envy whereas you had grown. Grown to like Peter, more than you ever thought was possible. Flash had ruined it, manipulated words, the only tool you had and made sure he was right in the end: Peter wouldn’t sick with you now. Only the pain in his face as your voice, but not truly yourself, spoke over the speakers and told a stale truth.

Your heart began to pound as reality set in fully. Nothing would be the same now. Whatever you and Peter had started, shared with each other, would flatline. There was no longer a pulse left in that relationship and it was your fault. All you could do was apologize, try to tell him how things had changed when you got to know him better.

Deep in your heart, you felt like you need Peter. Through him, through learning about him you learned more about yourself. Through liking him, you learned to like yourself. Now it felt like you were free-falling. The foothold Peter had made for you both had broken under the weight of past mistakes. You couldn’t fix it, so you would have to learn to be okay on your own.

And the coffee shop didn’t feel like the right place to start. Too many memories of Peter haunted the place, times when you felt like the best person you could be. You needed to tap into that person, that version of you, without the ghost of Peter helping you. You needed to be with yourself.

So, after you finished your cookie and tea, you thanked the barista one last time. It was noon by the time you had felt, time seemed to have sped up in your panicked state. With traffic somewhat calmed, you were able to cross the street without cars honking in distress this time. The path your house was peppered with browned leaves carried in on the breeze. Autumn’s end was near, sharp and sudden as the end of bare branches.

It would have surprised you if snow were to fall as you unlocked the gate to your apartment building. Instead of thinking about how you and Peter had said a heartfelt ‘goodbye’ in the spot you stood in just a few days ago, you thought about the impending Winter. Maybe you could convince your parents to go to your cousin’s place for the holiday season so you weren’t locked away in your room like last Winter break. It would be an unexpected trip but you couldn’t stand the thought of being home alone for two weeks.

What was also unexpected was the sight of your father when you opened the door to the apartment. He looked just as tired as he did Sunday, but he was cleaning the kitchen. Cleared plates and shining utensils were sat out on the drying rack. When you the door closed behind you, your father looked up.

“School?”

“I-I…” your stomach twisted, “I wasn’t feeling well. Can you...you call me in sick?” Your father’s brows scrunched together but he nodded nonetheless.

“Y-Yeah, you...you alright?” There was a softness in his voice, the type of concern a father should have for his daughter. How long had it been since you had heard him speak like that? He had been gone off on work trips, struggling to make ends meet and all the while hoping that your mother would come back. Yet, it seemed, he had a bit of softness saved for you. And that broke your heart.

“N-No….” Tears fell from your eyes before you had the chance to stop them. They blurred your vision until the home you had known for the past seven years was turned into muddled shapes. You relied solely on sound. So when, instead of asking about what had happened, you heard the footsteps of your father’s work boots against the floorboards, you were shocked. More so when two warm arms wrapped around you and your backpack to pull you to his chest.

Sobs racked your frame, so loud that your cries seemed to echo through the apartment. Despite the sound, you heard your father’s voice. “I wish I could fix it.”

“Y-you can’t,” you hiccuped. You felt his arms tighten around you as if holding you together was all he could do. In that moment, it was all you needed.

You didn’t remember falling asleep or how you got in bed in the first place. The note on your nightstand scrawled out in rough script from your father told you what you needed to know.

Called into the school. You should get some rest, honey. Feel better.

-Dad

You set the note back down and sat back up against your headboard. Fresh from sleep, your eyes were still clouded lost in the haze of slumber that called out to you to return. The moment the darkness behind your eyelids welcomed you back, an image of Peter smiling entered your mind’s eye. Crinkles by his eyes and the wide grin made your heartache.

Your eyes flew open and you scrambled to your nightstand again. In a mad, groggy search, you looked for your phone. Your fingertips traced the smoothed wood of the side table and found no trace of it. With a sudden rush of mild panic, you got up from your bed. The fabric of your worn, blue backpack poked out from under your desk chair.

With the knowledge it was the last place you had it and pure hope, you kneeled in front of your bag and rummaged through the pockets. Your hands brushed against folders and paper in your quest. The familiar feeling of earbud wires tangled between your fingers gave you a rush of relief. Pulling gently on the wires, you lifted it out of your backpack. Still plugged into the port, your earbuds suspended your phone before your eyes.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself as you unplugged your earbuds. The screen of your phone illuminated with text notifications. One from MJ asked where you had gone while the message from her gave you details on what you missed during English class. You had even received a message from Ned who, after telling you that it was him, told you that he hadn’t seen Peter and that he had heard about what had happened. There was nothing from Peter himself.

You finally unlocked your phone and scrolled through your contacts. It didn’t take long until you found Peter’s name littered among those of people you no longer spoke to. His contact picture was an open book, a picture you had taken during a tutoring session instead of asking for one from him. Now, looking at it, you wished you had.

Without wasting another moment on regret you hit the dial button and pressed your phone to your ear. The dull, repetitive ringing had you biting on the inside of your cheek nervously. Pick up, please, please pick up.

“Hi, it’s Peter….” His voice, animated, almost happy, answered a twisted sense of happiness flooded through you, even if it was short-lived. You had to tell him you were sorry.

“Pete, it’s me. I-I-”

“And I can’t get to the phone right now because uh...I’m busy? I guess? You can leave a message though. I don’t really know what else to-” A loud ‘beep’ stopped the automated message. Tears welled in your eyes at the sound before you found the courage to speak up.

“I know I’m the last person you want to hear from but I need to talk to you. I need to explain so you don’t think…” you paused and sighed. You should have written it down, planned out what you were going to say. It was too late now. “I’m sorry, Pete. You know I’m not...I’m not the best person, I sure wasn’t before we started talking. But with you, I feel like I can be a better person. I hope...I hope you can see that. I’m sorry.”

Your phone fell away from your ear as you pressed the ‘hang up’ button displayed on the screen. As you did, another text alert popped up. The number matched Ned’s and you tapped the notification.

NED: um, I don’t want to worry you or stress you out more than you probably already are but I still can’t find Peter.

NED: he normally tells me when he’s gonna go out but he didn’t and May doesn’t know where he is either. have you heard from him?

YOU: I gave him a call. He didn’t answer.

NED: okay, thanks.

NED: and, Y/N, don’t worry, he’ll come around.

You didn’t have the strength to thank Ned or ask how he even got your number. Instead, you peeked into your backpack again to find a notebook and a pen. Peter was gone, probably angry and upset. The thought filled you with worry.

Your eyelids grew heavy at you wrote out four simple words. On shaking legs, you stood from your spot and strode over to the window of your bedroom. Carefully, you leaned the notebook against the glass so it could easily be seen:

Spiderman, I need you.

Bitterly pleased with your handy work, you strode over to you bed and collapsed once more.

The light tapping of rain against your window slowly coaxed you from your slumber. Slowly, you sat up from your bed and hit the button on your phone to catch the time. It was ten o'clock at night meaning the dance tomorrow was merely sixteen hours away. The calculations in your head made you feel sick with dread and sleep.

The steady tap against your window pulled you out of your own mind. In the small second of peace, you let your thoughts drift again. That was, until, the pattering at your wind intensified. You shot up from your bed and you feet hit the floor. Blindly, you swung your hand towards the lamp on your nightstand and flicked it on.

Two white eyes of a familiar red mask came into the light. A gloved hand waved on the other side of the glass as you threw yourself off of your bed. Your bare feet padded against the carpet of your bedroom floor as you neared the window. You weren’t entirely sure if your lack of pure shock was from the lingering haze of sleep or the fact you had seen Spiderman before. There wasn’t much thought to give it before you opened the window.

“You got my message,” you whisper as you poke you head out of your window. Your teeth clattered as a gust of night air swirled into your room. “Are you cold?”

“I, no, I’m okay. You’re lucky I was swinging around.” He said, his voice not as low as the last time you saw him. Something about the pitch was familiar, so familiar in fact it gave you goosebumps. Or was that just the cold?

Now was not the time to dwell. “I….I need help...”

The blank eyes of the mask stared at you in wait. Quiet oozed between you and you remember Spiderman being more talkative before. More confident, even. Perhaps it had been an off day for him too.

“His name is Peter, Peter Parker, you might know him. He works with Iron Man and he...I messed up. I don’t know where he is he won’t answer his calls and his friends can’t reach him either. Can you...do you find people?”

“That’s more of a Jessica Jones’ thing.” Your brows furrowed at the snappy tone and you opened your mouth slightly in shock.

“But can you help?”

“Why do you want to find him?”

“Because he’s missing!” You yell in a whisper. You threw your arms up in the air but Spiderman only cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. Or perhaps a dog too wise for his own good.

“Just because of that?” Angry bubbled up inside you, spread flames from your stomach up to your chest; but your resolve turned to ash in your mouth. All you wanted was to know Peter was okay.

“I...I need to tell him that I’m sorry, that I-I...” The words got caught in your throat. Why were you telling a total stranger about this? A masked stranger at that. You were desperate...that was why.

“Tell him what?”

“That what I did, what I wanted, it’s different now.” Spiderman fell quiet and you felt it was due to the lack of context. But you were too tired to explain so you continued. “ I need to tell him that...well the voicemail I left him already covers most of it…”

“So he’ll call you back when he’s ready.” The superhero’s curtness was not something you had expected. Yet, despite the tone, you knew he was right. Peter would speak up when he was ready. There was no point in worrying until then. If he truly went missing, you were sure you would have felt it. With all that had happened, Peter probably ran off as you had.

“Yeah, sorry for bothering you. You’re probably busy.” Spiderman only nodded in reply and got up from his crouched position. As quiet as a shadow, you watched as he leaped on the fire escape railing and readied to jump off. When he lingered, you quirked a brow at him. Almost as if he sensed your change in expression, he craned his neck to look back at you.

“Do you...do you care about him?”

“Yes,” you said without missing a beat. “More than anything. He’s my closest friend and I….” The words teetered on the tip of your tongue but you bit them back. If you went too far you could never make it back. Spiderman nodded; sometimes there was no need for words to explain the most complex of feelings. All you had to do was look at someone’s face and just know.

“Then you can trust him to come around, Y/N.” With that, Spiderman lept and webbed away in a matter of a few seconds. You watched as the bright reds and blues of his suit faded into the haze of the light-polluted city. With your chin balanced on your elbow, you rested your head against the frame of the window. The white paint of its surface was chipped and had flaked off due to weathering over the years.

You too had lost parts of yourself as you had gotten older. Childhood memories felt more like an old movie now, one that you used to know the lines to but had since forgotten. When Peter asked you to tutor him, unknowingly, he had given you a chance at a starring role in a movie that promised a happy ending. So why did it feel like the reel had been cut short?

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