#I don’t want to melt esus

[rancidpancakebatter]

Another Way to Fly-[P.P.] | Chapter Three

Pairing: TASM!college!Peter Parker x female!college!reader

Summary: You've been dating Harry Osborne for three years. You love him...but maybe not as much as you once did. Maybe not enough.

AU Where Norman isn’t as sick- he’s just an asshole- and Gwen didn't go to Oxford. Harry is functioning as an apprentice at Oscorp (He graduated with a master's in two years because of his studying abroad). You, Peter, and Gwen are all seniors at ESU. Because Peter isn't Spider-Man and Norman isn’t dying, the whole “Goblin” thing is scratched from the record, so Peter and Harry are besties.

Prompt: Based on an ask for my 200 Follower celebration

Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: Swearing, Implications of sex

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As you walk in, Peter can tell that you are clearly irritated. You move stiffly, and your brows are furrowed slightly. To anyone else, they may believe you were just thinking about something, but Peter knew you really well. 

He met you about four years ago in the campus library. It was finals, and the building was packed with students pulling out their hair and silently sobbing at tables crowded with colourful worksheets and laptop charging cables. He had almost tripped over you, walking through the shelves on the third floor. You were hunkered down in the 150s of the Dewy Decimal System. Papers and textbooks were fanned out around you, and you typed away on your laptop, oblivious to the world as a soft melody spilled from your wired earbuds. 

Your head shot up when you noticed a foot land on a piece of paper before quickly hopping off, but still leaving a large, dirty footprint on your notes. You pulled out your headphones and looked up, ready to use all of your pent-up frustration and stress to rip the offender a new one, but before you could even start, his panic started spilling out. 

“Oh, Jesus. I’m so so sorry. Shit, uhhh lemme just…” He picked up your notes and tried to wipe them off, but the dirt just smeared. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. You can have mine.”

The boy standing above you was tall, his curls flopping over as he moved his head around. You could tell he was lanky under his layered shirts and baggy jeans. He was pretty. You blinked a few times, breaking your train of thought to focus on what he said. 

“Are you taking Intro to Psychology?” You asked.

His face reddened slightly, “...No.”

You quirked an eyebrow at the strange man. “Then how could I borrow your notes?”

His mouth opened and closed a few times before a dry chuckle left his lips. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

Your irritation melted at the sight of this awkward man. He obviously didn’t mean any harm, and it’s not like your notes were ruined, just dirty. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Parker- er, I mean Peter.”

You laugh at his uncertainty. 

“Did you get a concussion on the way over here?” you tease. 

Again, the man flushes, “No.”

“So which is it?” You ask, “Parker or Peter?”

He blinks a bit, pulling a face like he’s trying to solve a riddle, “Both.”

“You’re name is Parker Peter?” You ask, your confusion only building. 

He buried his head in his hands, shaking it side to side, then pulls his hands away and sighs. 

“Can we start over?” You nod your head, and he does a little spin, reappearing with a smile splitting his face. “Hi, I’m Peter Parker, and I’m so sorry for stepping on your notes and then making it worse by smudging everything and being incredibly awkward.”

You chuckle, then tell him your name. 

“Cool, well, it was nice to meet you (Y/n). I’ll leave you alone forever now.” 

He turns to walk away, but you call after him. He turns with a look of surprise on his face. 

“You can join me if you want. There’s not many places left to study, and if you’re working, it’ll keep me from getting on my phone.”

Peter smiles at you and takes you up on the offer. You sit in silence for about two hours before Peter gets a phone call. You are only mildly annoyed by the interruption, and Peter looks embarrassed to have disturbed the peace. He gives a “Harry” directions to find him and begins packing up his stuff. 

A few minutes later, you noticed a shadow cast over you and looked up to see crystal blue eyes. You hold each other’s gaze for a moment before he finally speaks. 

“Hi, I’m looking for a really annoying know-it-all with a skateboard.” 

His smile gleamed in the light as he stood over you in a well-tailored dress shirt and slacks.

“Hey! I’m right here, asshole.” Peter exclaimed. 

The polished man only broke his eyes away from you then, walking around you and looking to Peter with a teasing smirk. “Oh! Hey Pete. Sorry, I didn’t see you past this beautiful woman.” 

Peter slugs him in the arm, and they hug.

Boys, you think as you roll your eyes.

“And this ‘beautiful woman’,” Peter says, “is (Y/n). I stepped on her notes and then made a complete fool of myself. She took pity on me and let me study here.”

You stand as graciously as you can with your left foot asleep. “Yeah, he even offered to replace my notes for a class he doesn’t take.” 

Harry laughs, and then his eyes roam over your body. It’s a quick scan, but it makes your heart race. 

“Psychology?” He asks.

You look between them, a little surprised. Peter matched your expression. “Yeah, Intro. How’d you know?”

“You hunkered down in the physiology section,” The blond says with a coy smile, “...and I think I’ve seen you in class before. Room 3304 with Professor Markle, right?”

You confirm his memory, and he extends his hand to you. “I’m Harry.”

That day you formed a little study group. You agreed to meet at the campus coffee shop on Wednesdays. You met Gwen, who seemed really nice- albeit a little too put together. You guys all got closer, and you brought up the idea of trying different coffee shops until you found one you all liked. 

That summer, you discovered Cafè Luna, Harry’s last name and its significance, about Gwen’s dreams of studying abroad, and that Peter had really good taste in music. You guys would get together and have Harry get you into different bars to see the local shows and drink. Eventually, it became just your and Peter’s thing, as Gwen wasn’t big into the music, and Harry couldn’t get behind the whole “eat the rich” message as much as he wanted to. 

Slowly you grew to be very close with Peter. You began to confide in him, and he, you. You learned about how his uncle had passed, and that it was just him and his aunt. You told him about growing up in Brooklyn. You were invited to Hannukah and Birthday dinners. May also had a Christmas dinner, and Harry kissed you under the mistletoe after months of heavy flirting. It was a good year. 

And now, Three years later, Peter knew better than anyone when you were peeved. Especially when you dramatically plopped into your chair next to his, letting your bag drop to the floor next to you. Peter also knew that asking you what was wrong was dangerous. Sometimes you snapped, denying there was any problem at all, or you would rant for hours on end (that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but regardless) until you were blue in the face. And with your arms crossed firmly across your chest, he thought it would be more of a snapping response. 

He also knew that there were a lot of things that could cause your sour mood. Sometimes it was a simple fix, like a greasy cheeseburger or a walk in the park, but sometimes it was much more complicated. He sincerely hoped it was a simple fix. 

“Hey, Led Head.” He tried, testing the waters. This was a nickname he gave you because you love Led Zeppelin.

“Hey, Pete,” You said with a slight bite, but it didn’t feel directed at him. You could’ve been explaining the difference between fettuccine and fusilli, and the chill would remain the same. 

“How’s your day goin’?” His Queens’ accent dripped into his words. 

He didn’t miss the sarcasm in your “Swell, how’s yours?”

“Eh, can’t complain,” Peter shrugged, tapping his pencil on his desk, “but it looks like you can.”

Just then the professor walked in, and any remark you could have made was silenced as you all tuned into the upcoming lecture. 

You try your best to focus on taking notes, but Peter notices the way you’re constantly fidgeting, one hand scribbling and the other tugging on your shirt, your skirt, your socks, etc. This goes on for the whole duration of the lecture, and after watching it go on for thirty minutes, Peter can’t stand it anymore. 

You feel a nudge at your arm and look up to see Peter hunched over his desk, leaning in towards you. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You huff slightly, annoyed and not wanting to get into it right now. You still had another hour left of class, and you just wanted to get through it. 

“Come on, Heartbreaker,” Peter said, charm skating off his tongue. He was pulling out the big guns now. Calling in the “this nickname always makes you feel special, but only certain people can use it, and I’m one of them” nickname. This was a nickname he gave you because you loved Led Zeppelin, that song specifically. “You know better than to try and lie to me.”

Your shoulders deflate as you give in. 

“I’m just…uncomfortable.” you settle on. 

Peter props his head on his hand dramatically, waiting for you to expand.

“I had a sweater, but now it’s stained– probably forever– with my latte that I didn’t get to finish this morning, and my breakfast is probably still sitting in the middle of the road covered with tire tracks, and my tits are out, and my clothes are tight, and it’s cold, and I feel like I can’t breathe!” You harshly whispered all in one breath. 

Peter stifled a laugh, and you slugged him in the arm, now unable to suppress your general irritation any longer. 

“Alright, alright,” He says, pushing you away slightly. 

“We can get you some food and caffeine after class, but for now,” He pulls off his jacket and hands it to you. “You can wear this.”

You gladly take it, and as soon as you bring it over your shoulders, you’re almost overwhelmed by the smell of his cologne seeping into the fabric. You take an unashamed, long sniff. 

“Peter, what cologne do you use? This smells fucking amazing.”

Peter doesn’t answer, just shaking his head with a quiet laugh. 

“Seriously,” You say more to yourself than your desk mate, “I need to get Harry some of this stuff.”

You turn your head and see him giving you an “I can’t believe you,” look- a “You say the darndest things” look- and you start snickering. In turn, Peter also starts snickering. This exchange compounds exponentially until you’re both swallowing down full bellows of laughter. Your hand is over your mouth as a few choked snorts seep through the cracks of your fingers. Peter’s fist is pressed firmly against his lips, trying to seal the leak of laughter. 

“Excuse me.” Your heads raise, and the laughter in your throat dies at the pointed glare from your professor. “If you’re done flirting, I’d like to continue my class.”

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you as you sank into your seat and pull Peter’s hoodie tighter around you, as if to hide. Peter mumbled out a sorry, seemingly just as embarrassed as you. Your professor looked as if she was holding back an eye roll before turning back to the rest of the room, and continuing her lecture.  

You weren’t flirting. Of course you weren’t. And certainly not with Peter, one of your best friends and the best friend of your boyfriend since childhood. And he definitely wasn’t flirting with you. He was in a happy relationship with his high school sweetheart, who was truly an amazing girl- even if you two weren’t particularly close. The mere notion of you two flirting is laughable, improbable, and downright preposterous. 

You refused to look anywhere other than the screen your professor projected her slideshow on. You couldn’t focus on the presentation she had no doubt slaved over. You could see from your peripheral Peter looking over at you. You couldn’t meet his gaze. 

You were consumed by a tight feeling in your chest and a thought that made you sick. It was just there for a moment; it didn’t mean anything. It flashed across your mind the same way a “That’s a cool shirt” or “Do we need eggs?” might, but you felt guilty regardless. 

I want Peter to flirt with me.

It rang through your head- echoing and shattering the contents within. Your hand reached up towards your neck, where a thin ‘H’ rested above your heart. The metal felt warm to the touch; the edges feel sharp enough to slice your skin. 

I want Peter to flirt with me. 

You didn’t, obviously. That would be weird. It would ruin your friendship. It would ruin your relationship. You didn’t see Peter like that. Sure, he was pretty, and smart, and kind, and a tried and true “momma’s” boy, but you were never into him. And you’re not now. 

You took the jacket because he’s your friend. And as your friend, he offered it to you. To make you feel better, because that’s what friends do. They help each other and make sure they’re comfortable. And you were laughing because Peter made a silly face. And it’s funny when you’re friends make a silly face. It meant nothing more. Your professor called it flirting because she was upset, annoyed. Not because it looked like flirting. Not because anyone thought you were flirting. You certainly didn’t. And Peter obviously didn’t think so either. Because he wouldn’t do that. Because you’re just friends. 

The kind of friends that would force the other to sit down at a diner nearby because they have the best burger in town. And he’s completely right. Nothing in this world compares to Benny’s Burger Palace. 

You've probably seen a place like it though- a retro diner with rounded chrome trimmings on all the counters and tables. Checkered tiling, slightly yellowed from the years. Red, patched booths with the softest cushioning and well-worn vinyl. Benny’s got great shakes, is open twenty-four hours, and always sells breakfast. But they also sell- you guessed it- burgers. 

Benny had unfortunately passed away in the eighties. But since then, his son had taken over- Lenny- and the recipe was well preserved. Lenny was a big man with a shiny bald head, and a black apron folded in half and tied around his waist. He was always at the grill with a bright smile readied for every customer and a deep laugh that rattles through your chest. He recognized you guys as soon as you walked in and immediately threw some patties on the grill, telling you, “Your booth is open.” 

Your smile was lukewarm, though still appreciative. Lenny, of course, didn’t notice a difference. Peter did. You hadn’t said much since earlier when your professor called you out. You were very vocal, with your joy and your rage, so your near-silent brooding was nerve-wracking. The last time you were this quiet, you disappeared for a few days, then returned with bangs and a new tattoo. Then there was the breakdown a month later that resulted in you breaking up with Harry for two months. Neither of you liked to bring it up, and if anyone asked, you guys had been dating for three years. Peter didn’t even know why you had broken up. He just knew that you were mad, and you ended it. 

He had tried several times to spark a conversation with you and was confused as each attempt failed. You met each statement with a half-interested grunt or hum. And now he sat across from you while you played with your sleeves and stared out the window. 

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sighed, knowing he was eventually going to ask. You were never very good at hiding when you were in a bad mood. And your mood had worsened since that interruption in the classroom. Peter was your friend, but you realised you didn’t want to tell him what was on your mind- especially when you didn’t know what it meant. 

“Yeah, I think I just needed to eat something.” 

Peter didn’t quite believe you but accepted the answer, for now. 

“And some caffeine?” He offered. 

You gave him a small smile and nodded your head. Peter immediately flagged down your waitress to order a pot of coffee. 

She returned with a youthful pep in her step, ponytail bobbing and smile gleaming. Her eyes never left Peter as she dropped off the coffee and a small bowl overflowing with creamer, and then she reached across the table to move the sugar towards him. Peter politely thanks her, and she hangs around for a few awkward moments before she finally moves onto another table. 

You reach for the (single) mug she brought to the table, tucking your knees up to your chest as you fix your coffee. Once satisfied, you take a sip, the warmth travels from the inside out, and you can tell it’s a strong brew from just a small taste. 

You finished your first cup in silence, which was only broken now, by Peter, as you struggled to open more creamer cups. 

“So…is there something particular bogging you down…or is it just…a bad day?”

You pause in your stirring, thinking through the best answer. 

“Norman stopped by, unannounced, for dinner last night.”

You took a sip, feeling validated by Peter’s sympathetic wince. 

You told him all about him ogling you and every passive-aggressive (and not-so-passive) insult he threw your way. You told him about the fundraiser and the fit he threw over the food you had made. When you got to the “Adult Film” comment, Peter interjected. 

“Yikes! What did Harry say?”

Your face twisted like you had eaten something sour, and in a way, it felt like you had. As you spoke, you felt the bitter taste the words left on your tongue. You cleared your throat, making sure to “speak with your chest.”

“He didn’t say anything. He watched the food for me so I could go upstairs and change.”

Peter made a face of disgust, but just then your overly bubbly server returned. She placed each burger in front of you, and you ignored that Peter received more fries than you. Again, she tried to speak a little while longer, trying to ignite a conversation not realising she was trampling over the coals already set ablaze. 

You took a bite from your burger and you can taste the love and history seared in. As juice starts to trickle between your fingers, you get lost in this perfectly flavoured, flame-grilled patty. It’s so good you could eat it plain. But you don’t because you’re not a psychopath that eats plain patties. 

You’re so lost in your delicious burger that you don’t see the distracted way in which Peter is picking at his fries. There’s a question hanging from his slightly pouted lips; confusion resting on his brow. He lets you enjoy a few bites before eventually he decides that he did hear you right and that he needed clarification. 

“Wait…Harry didn’t say anything?”

You shook your head no as you swallowed your bite.

“He didn’t say anything?” Peter asked again. 

You nodded your head, quickly grabbing a napkin to wipe and cover your mouth. 

“What do you say to that? ‘Hey! Don’t say that!’” You scoff, “Like Norman would listen.”

Peter gave you a sad look before muttering a “Yeah, I guess,” before encouraging you to go on. You told him about the rest of the night (or at least the rest of Norman’s stay), before skipping to this morning. You told him about the outfit conundrum and the coffee-breakfast fiasco and when you finished, Peter let out a sigh, letting your words wash over him. 

“Damn,” he finally said, “That sucks.”

You hummed an “mh-hm” as you bit into your burger, then insisted that he share about his day around a mouthful of cheddar, beef, tomato, lettuce, and some in-house sauce you desperately wanted the recipe to, but knew you would never get. 

As you ate, Peter told you all about how Gwen is getting ready for England- about how stressful it is to get her ready in just six weeks. But also how sad it is knowing that one of his favourite people would soon be living in a different country for a year, and the best he could do was visit. 

He told you about how he needed to find a roommate, and he was considering Ned, someone he met at the Bugle, who was apparently pretty cool. He told you about his nightly phone call with May, which was funny, to you, because they saw each other all the time. Seriously. If Peter wasn’t home or at work, he was with May: helping her out with groceries, with the laundry, or fixing anything that squeaked in the house. It was really sweet. 

Peter then starts talking about other things, and you chew along as you follow his train of thought down every broken track and blindsiding curve. You honestly feel a lot better with food in your stomach. You forget just how hangry you can get. 

But as helpful as that burger was, you knew it was the company you shared that made you feel better. Peter Parker had once again worked his magic, and you felt loads better. He’s making you smile and laugh, helping you forget all the shitty hours before now. Time is now at a standstill. There’s nothing here but you and Peter, in your own little world. 

You feel a nudge at your foot and Peter wears a face of faux-indignation. You make your own face that reads, “What do you want?”

Peter fights back a smile, “You weren’t listening.”

You swallow your bite, “Yes I was, you were talking about your essay on some bacteria in the metabolism.”

“No,” he says kicking your foot again, “I was talking about the differences between Acrocanthosauruses and Carcharodontosauruses, but you were too lost in your burger to care.”

He breathes a dramatic sigh, imitating “every woman in a period piece ever” and the very reason he refuses to watch any of them with you. You smack his foot, breaking him from his false wallowing. 

“Was there a reason you were ranting about dinosaurs again?”

Peter returns the smack with a kick of his own. 

“Well, you would know that I was studying prehistoric plants in my botany class right now if you were a good friend.”

His words hold no ire, instead, they are spoken in a nasally, mocking tone. You kick him back, defending yourself anyway.

“I am a good friend! I’m paying for lunch and letting you rant about dinosaurs uninterrupted.”

Peter kicked your foot again with dramatically furrowed brows but a smile he couldn’t hold back, “I give you dinosaur lessons for free. You should be grateful for all that I share.”

You return the kick, “I am! I loved last week’s lesson on cephalopods-”

“The ​​Nautiloids, specifically.” Peter corrects, swatting at your foot again, “Cephalopods include a lot of things, such as squids, octopi, and cuttlefish.”

You roll your eyes at Peter’s triumphant grin. With no whitty remarks left you smack his foot again, this time a little harder, and stick out your tongue. Peter takes that as a declaration of war, and soon, a game of footsie breaks out. Towards the end of it, your pumping both of your legs as if biking while Peter does the same. 

You call a truce when Peter notices the waitress coming back over. Her uniform had changed since you first walked in. Now she wore her hair down, the chestnut waves falling over her shoulders. Her apron was folded over, much like Lenny’s, and her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show she had cleavage without really showing it. 

“Hey, just wanted to check on you.” She says through a smile with way too much teeth, to Peter. Not you. She has only been looking at Peter, this whole time, who is of course, oblivious.

“I think we’re ready for the check.” You say shortly. 

The girl doesn’t say anything, just nods her head and promises to be right back. You pull out your wallet, card ready for when she returned. She passed the check to Peter when she returned, once again, ignoring you completely. Peter made a confused face before passing it to you. While you filled out the receipt the waitress tried once again to drum up conversation. 

“I’m Margot, by the way.” she stutters out. 

Peter is polite as ever, offering his name and his hand to shake. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard you talking about dinosaurs.” You notice the way she’s leaning forward, all but shoving her boobs in Peter’s face. “I just think they’re so cool. What’s your favourite one?”

You felt an anger rise within you. Margot looked to be a few years younger than you, maybe eighteen or nineteen. She’s young and pretty and way too obvious. Couldn’t this girl just leave you guys alone? Were you just fucking invisible? Why couldn’t you just talk to your friend in peace? 

Before sweet, oblivious Peter could answer her, you snap, “He’s taken.”

The young woman looks at you with a sort of horror on her face as she straightens back up. She looks between you guys a few times as her cheeks begin to redden. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t realise-”

“No, not by me!” You almost shout.

 You want to slam your head against the wall. Why is it that everyone thinks you’re a couple, or want to be? Is being friends so crazy?

“Just in general. He has a girlfriend.” You lamely explain. “Who isn’t me, but is very real.”

She looks at you with a look that could be confusion but you take it as disbelief. 

“...okaayyy…” she says as she awkwardly steps away from the booth. You fell back against the cushioned seat, sipping on your coffee as you avoided Peter’s wide eyes. You couldn’t avoid his laugh though. He very obviously thought your behaviour was hilarious. In fact, he voiced just how funny it was that you “defended his honour.” That you chased off the waitress he was too oblivious to notice was flirting with him, all on his behalf. 

“You pulled a ‘me’ at the bar!” he choked out between gasps of laughter, clutching his stomach as he fell deeper and deeper into the seat of the booth, referring to all the times he’s had to step in when a guy just couldn’t take a hint. 

You didn’t say anything, just stomped his foot under the table until he got the message. You weren’t truly cross with him, merely embarrassed. But Peter got that, because he always did. 

And you were always grateful for that. Especially now as your walking Peter back to class as he tells you all about the dinner May is planning next weekend. She was making a five-course dinner to celebrate Gwen getting into Oxford and was super excited about it. It warmed your heart to hear Peter’s impression of his Aunt as she insisted all of his friends were in attendance. 

“Seriously dude,” Peter says with wild eyes and a finger pointed in your face, “you have to be there, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You swat his hand away with a laugh and check his shoulder as you walk across the street, and passed the library. Peter laughs along with you and he’s happy to see you feel a lot better. 

Your smile is back and radiant, and your sass has returned. Along with that twinkle in your eye, the setting sun makes your irises glitter like river stones. There’s a slight rosiness to your cheeks from Jack Frost’s ruthlessness in these November days. And Peter was tracing the constellations he found on your face- mesmerized by the fables they told. 

Halfway through the story of when you stopped believing in Santa Claus, you got a call and both of your wonderment was broken. You can see the health and science building in front of you. But you feel it. A force that pulls you. Like a marionette on a string, you pull your phone from your pocket. 

“It’s Harry.”

You don’t know why you sound so sad when you say it. You didn’t mean to say it like that. Through a dead sigh and slumped shoulders. With a subtle drag at the corners of your mouth and a tightness in your chest. But you do feel bad, for not being excited to talk to him. You should be. 

You tuck your phone back in your pocket, deciding that you just like spending time with Peter, your friend, and you haven’t gotten to do that often. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to your boyfriend, you’re not avoiding him, you just didn’t want to say goodbye to Peter just yet. 

“He can wait,” You say more for yourself than Peter, but you feel like you’ve made the right decision as his smile stretches across his face. 

Peter beams and gives you a small thank you as you continue to walk Peter up the stairs. Once to the top, you stand across from one another, just smiling. You wrap your arms around your friend and he returns the favour. You bid him farewell, promising to see him next weekend and he promises to text you later. 

You can’t fight the smile on your face. Not when you open your phone again to see four missed calls and two text messages from Harry. Not when you pick up the phone and he lightly scolds you for not answering. Not as he tells you he has the driver circling around the campus because he got out of work early, and wanted to surprise you by picking you up. You can’t fight it when you finally get in the back seat. 

Harry grabs at the side of your neck once you’ve settled and pulls you closer to lay a strong kiss on your cheek. 

“Did you have a good day?” He asks. 

You can’t help but laugh as you tell him that you actually had a terrible day, “But I got lunch with Peter and that made up for a lot of it.”

Harry agreed, “Ole Petey Boy can turn any day around.”

You laughed along, “He sure can. It’s a gift.”

Before you can tell him what went wrong in your day, Harry is telling you about the amazing breakthrough they had at oscorp with a regenerative plant species. You don’t quite understand what he’s saying, but you know it’s good because of how excited he’s getting. And it’s rare to see him express excitement. 

He stops talking and looks to you for a response. You gasp, then tell him all about how amazing he is and how smart he is. He smirks, thanking you but trying not to let you see the compliments inflating his ego in real time. 

In an attempt to not look so big-headed, he said, “Well, I couldn’t have done it without my researchers- Gwen included. Which reminds me…My father wants to host another gala next weekend, to promote our breakthrough and announce the Marathon.”

Suddenly everything is bad again and you wish life would give you some kind of warning before your neck breaks from the whiplash. Harry notices the way your face falls and offers you comfort in his arms. You curl up against his chest as he absent mindly strokes your hair. 

“I’m sorry dear,” he offers, “I know you don’t like the Galas.”

“No, No, it’s not that,” you say with a sigh. “It’s just….May wanted to have this dinner, for Gwen, and she really wanted all of us there. And I promised I would.”

You rest your chin against his chest, batting your eyelashes over your hopeful gaze. 

“I’m sorry dear, I’ll be sure to send her flowers and a nice Piedmont.”

Your hopes are dashed. It seems you're going to a gala instead of a Parker family (and friend) dinner.

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[esuemmanuel]

Me están ganando las sombras que me habitan, sus voces quedas no cesan de murmurar en mis oídos que me deje vencer, no hay nada ya por pelear, el sentido se ha desvanecido, la única estrella que arde en el ocaso es la de la soledad. El silencio se ha comido lentamente a mis manos, devorándome los dedos me ha arrebatado lo poco que me hacía ponerme de pie en las mañanas y, si bien aún los tengo, no puedo usarlos como lo hacía cuando la luz del porvenir caía sobre mí. Se apagó el sol y se ha llevado consigo a la luna. El viento torpe me arrulla, robándome el poco aliento que me queda respirar, ¿por qué siempre es así? Tantas muertes, tantas palabras borradas, tantas emociones resquebrajadas, tantos anhelos enterrados en la tumba de lo que no pudo ser, tanto dolor guardándose la vida en hojas invisibles… He querido llorar, pero, ya no puedo. La oscuridad me ha arrancado las lágrimas también. Me queda sólo el vacío, la miseria, la frustración y la pereza… Qué vago me he vuelto hasta para comer; el apetito se me ha secado junto con la sed. ¡Quiero gritar! ¡Quiero apuñalarme el alma! ¡Quiero deshacerme entre la gente y olvidarme de que, alguna vez, fui un nombre y una cruz! ¡Oh, si pudiera apretarme el corazón hasta paralizarlo, lo haría! ¡Me duele la vida y el temor de no poderla merecer! Tan cobarde soy que no puedo siquiera escribir esas palabras…….

The shadows that inhabit me are winning me, their quiet voices don’t cease to murmur in my ears to let me win, there is nothing left to fight, the sense has vanished, the only star that burns in the sunset is the one of loneliness. Silence has slowly eaten my hands, devouring my fingers it has taken away the little that made me stand up in the mornings and, although I still have them, I cannot use them as I did when the light of the future fell on me. The sun has gone out and taken the moon with it. The clumsy wind lulls me, stealing what little breath I have left to breathe, why is it always like this? So many deaths, so many words erased, so many emotions cracked, so many longings buried in the tomb of what could not be, so much pain keeping life in invisible leaves... I wanted to cry, but I can no longer. The darkness has torn away my tears too. I am left with only emptiness, misery, frustration and laziness... How lazy I have become even to eat; my appetite has dried up along with my thirst. I want to scream! I want to stab my soul! I want to melt among people and forget that I was once a name and a cross! Oh, if I could squeeze my heart to paralysis, I would! I ache for life and the fear of not being able to deserve it! So cowardly am I that I can't even write those words.......

— Esu Emmanuel©

#escritores en tumblr #el hombre de la soledad #escribiendo en soledad #the man of solitude #writing in solitude #writers on tumblr #poetas en tumblr #pensamientos #poets on tumblr #poeticstories #un escritor dice #writing #citas en tumblr #citas en español #darkness #oscuridad #2022

[trexy225]

TPYH-Chapter 1: The Chaos Begins

You throw your graduation hat up in the air along with the rest of the graduates. You did it, you got your doctorate at only 24 years old, the youngest in your graduating class. You looked around to find your family, scanning the crowd. “y/n!” Your younger brother, Harry called out, he waved you over, your father, Norman Osborne was there as well as Harry’s friends Peter and MJ, and Dr. Otto Octavius, your father's close friend, and your long-time, secret crush. You couldn’t help but smile as you ran over to them, your dad gave you a big hug and smiled. “I can’t believe it Waterbear.” He smiled.

“Dad! I mention Tardigrades ONE time and-”

“One time? Waterbear that was one of your master's capstones, they were integral to your doctorate.” He argued.

“And you would not shut up about it for like two years,” Harry added.

You rolled your eyes “It could be worse.” You relent.

“I for one thought that your interest in… is it Water Bear or Tardigrade?” Otto asked.

“Tardigrade is their scientific name, but Water Bear is another name, you can call them either.” You explained.

“I like Water Bear, it has charm to it, do you agree?” He asked.

Your heart fluttered as you nodded. 

“Well, I believe that your research was very interesting, and I cannot wait to see what you do in the future Doctor Osborne.” He winked.

You gave a nervous laugh and nodded. 

“That’ll take some getting used to.” You admit.

“The title will grow on you Doctor, I wish I could stay longer, but I have other matters to attend to. I hope to see you again soon Doctor Osborne.” He gave a warm smile, you loved that smile, it just melted your heart. He waved goodbye as he left, although you wished he would stay. 

“So do we have to call you Doctor now?” Harry asked. 

“Only if you want to, I’m still getting used to it… Are those for me?” You gestured to the flowers Peter was holding.

“Oh… Yeah, I thought you might like them, I picked them out-”

“With my help,” MJ added.

Peter blushed as he held them out.

“Thank you, Peter, that was so thoughtful, I love them!” You pulled him into a hug, and he awkwardly hugged you back. Harry and MJ smiled at each other.

“How’s high school going? Senior year, right?”

“It’s going pretty well, I’m planning on applying to take some classes at Columbia and get my general education credits at ESU, hopefully by that point I can transfer to Columbia once I’ve saved up enough.” 

“You’ll get into Columbia, I’m sure of it, you’re so smart!” You pat him on the back.

Peter started to say something before he got interrupted by your on again off again ex, Monica Reeves. Currently, you think your status was friends? But you were never sure honestly, she wanted sex, you wanted the emotional intimacy, she told you it was a win, win, so it has got to be a win-win. You remembered when you two were actually dating, and you missed it, she kept you sane during it all. 

“Hey, girl! We’re going out to get drinks, you want to come with us?’ She grabbed your hand and you gave a small smile.

“Of course I do Monica! I mean, Dr. Reeves.” You reply.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out, Dr. Osborne.” She led you towards the larger group. You waved goodbye to your brother and his friends and followed her to the group. At first, it was kind of weird, all these people were at least 10 years older than you, but you were just as smart as them, if not smarter. And Monica made you feel more comfortable. You all talked excitedly, the group was much smaller, most of them went to their families, or just were too tired, she understood. 

You didn’t really remember a lot of that night, mostly drinking with Monica, and then kissing Monica, and then… You forgot, but you started to piece the pieces together after you woke up in her bed, you groaned. Monica woke up and smiled.

“We can’t keep doing this Monica. I can’t take this on and off again thing.” You tell her as you put your clothes back on.

“I know you don’t mean that y/n, you always come back to me.” She cooed.

“I’m serious! And if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I like you… at all.”

Her smile faltered. “What do you mean? I’ve been there for you all this time, I’ve always been there for you.”

“When it’s beneficial to you! We need to see other people.” You grabbed your purse.

“Is this because of Dr. Octavius?” Monica asked.

You paused.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him, you know he’ll never love you back, right? He can’t. You can’t handle that heartbreak babe-”

“Don’t call me babe.” 

“You know I’m right. You also know I’m easier, you don’t have to try with me. You’ll come back, you always do.” Monica smirked.

You knew she was right, you knew that this would continue, an empty, unfulfilling relationship, no, she was wrong. That was worse than heartbreak.

“This time will be different Monica.” You leave the apartment.

#doctoroctopus #fanfic #fanfiction #doc ock #doctor octavius #doctor octopus #dr octavius #otto octavius x reader #otto octavius #biseuxal #bisexual #docock #doc ock x y/n #doc ock x self insert #spiderman 2 #doctor otto octavius

[utagoe]

Zenryoku Shounen: Pink!!! -How to Catch Me- Lyrics

Kanji, romaji and English translation for Pink!!! -How to Catch Me- by Taiga and Toa

(kanji source)

Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?)

誰かのカノジョでもいいから ((お願い)) ボクを愛して♡ーー

出会ってしまったんだ、あの日 若すぎたふたり、時は停められないから

キミの何気ない一言[ワンフレーズ]が、 ボクの心をShe_Cha_Ka_Me_Cha_Kaにする

なんもないから若い直立不動[カタサ]だけがセールスポイントだから

いかがです、味わったことがないJuicy その肌に牙を ム・キ・タ・イーー

「……ハァアアッ」

キミが魅せた艶かしい ColorはPiNK!!! もう、糸目つけられない程、夢中さ♡

恋愛ランクはSSS[トリプルエス]？ 教えてもらいたい、

計量不能な痴れた 恋のHow To  Catch!!!

Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?)

誰かのカノジョでもいいから ((お願い)) ボクを愛して♡ーー

「んーっ」 「……」

泊まってしまったんだ、あの事件[よ] 酔いすぎたふたり、チッスを繰り返していた

謎が眩しくて一友達[ワンフレンズ]じゃ、いられないのさ   恋愛遊戯[とっかえひっかえ]じゃない？

シャツに残した甘い芳香[ミルク]、それがウィークポイントでしょ？ 弛緩[ゆる]んでた、知り合った時からEasy 乱れてる罠で ト・カ・シ・テーー

「……ハァアアッ」

ボクが見せる際ど過ぎる ThrillでShock!!! そう、白目剥いてしまう程、 過剰に♡

嫉妬[ジェラシィ]ランクはSSS[トリプルエス]？ 溺れて愛し合う、

制御不能に揺れる欲を Show Up  Catch!!!

「Ah…」 「Umm…」

この微熱[ねつ]に触れて、カ・ン・ジ・テーー

「……愛してる」 「たまらなくね」

「……ハァアアッ」

キミが魅せた艶かしいColorはPiNK!!! もう、糸目つけられない程、夢中さ♡

恋愛ランクはSSS[トリプルエス]？ 教えてもらいたい、

計量不能な痴れた  恋のHow To Catch!!!

Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?)

誰かのカノジョでもいいから ((お願い)) ボクを愛して♡ーー

「んーっ」 「……」

Romaji

Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?)

dareka no kanojo demo ii kara ((onegai)) boku wo aishite

deatte shimattanda, ano hi waka sugita futari, toki wa tomerarenai kara

kimi no nanigenai wanfureezu ga, boku no kokoro wo She_Cha_Ka_Me_Cha_Ka ni suru

nanmo nai kara wakai katasa dake ga seerusu pointo dakara

ikaga desu, ajiwatta koto ga nai Juicy sono hada ni kiba wo mu-ki-ta-i

"...haaa"

kimi ga miseta namamekashii Color wa PiNK!!! mou, itome tsukerarenai hodo, muchuu sa

ren'ai ranku wa toripuru esu? oshiete moraitai,

keiryou funou na chireta

koi no How To Catch!!!

Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?)

dareka no kanojo demo ii kara ((onegai)) boku wo aishite

"nn" "..."

tomatte shimattanda, ano yo yoi sugita futari, chissu wo kurikaeshiteita

nazo ga mabushikute wan furenzu ja, irarenai no sa tokkae hikkae janai?

shatsu ni nokoshita amai miruku, sore ga uiiku pointo desho? yurundeta, shiriatta toki kara Easy midareteru wana de to-ka-shi-te

"...haaa"

boku ga miseru kiwado sugiru Thrill de Shock!!! sou, shirome muite shimau hodo, kajou ni jerashi ranku wa toripuru esu?

oborete aishiau,

seigyo funou ni yureru yoku wo

Show Up Catch!!!

"Ah..." "Umm..."

kono netsu ni furete, ka-n-ji-te

"...aishiteru" "tamaranaku ne"

"haaa"

kimi ga miseta namamekashii Color wa PiNK!!! mou, itome tsukerarenai hodo, muchuu sa

ren'ai ranku wa toripuru esu? oshiete moraitai,

keiryou funou na chireta

koi no How To Catch!!!

Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?)

dareka no kanojo demo ii kara ((onegai)) boku wo aishite

"nn" "..."

English

Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?)

I don't care if it's someone else's girlfriend, just ((Please)) Love me♡ーー

We ended up meeting on that day We were too young, time can't be stopped

Your nonchalant one phrase Throws my heart into chaos

I have nothing, so my only selling point is my young stiffness

How's this Juiciness you've never tasted before? I want to bare my fangs on your skinーー

"……Haaaa"

The charming Color you enchanted me with is PiNK!!! I'm so deep in a trance that I've lost my limits♡

Is this love's rank an SSS? I want you to tell me

How to Catch an Immeasurable and foolish Love!!!

Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?)

I don't care if it's someone else's girlfriend, just ((Please)) Love me♡ーー

"N~n" "……"

I ended up staying over that night We were too drunk, repeating greetings over and over

Your riddles are so radiant, I can't be just one of your friends Aren't we just alternating?

The sweet fragrance left on your shirt - That's your weak point, isn't it? I've loosened up, Easy ever since we've met Melt me with your disordered trapーー

"……Haaaa"

I'll Shock you with the way too dangerous Thrill I'll show you!!! Yes, so excessively that you'll Roll your eyes back♡

Is this jealousy's rank an SSS? Sinking and loving each other

A desire that sways unrestrained Shows Up Catch!!!

"Ah..." "Umm..."

Touch this heat and feel itーー

"……I love you" "To an unbearable extent"

"……Haaaa"

The charming Color you enchanted me with is PiNK!!! I'm so deep in a trance that I've lost my limits♡

Is this love's rank an SSS? I want you to tell me

How to Catch an Immeasurable and foolish Love!!!

Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?) Catch Me!! (Luv Me?)

I don't care if it's someone else's girlfriend, just ((Please)) Love me♡ーー

"N~n" "……"

#zenryoku shounen tachi no outa #zenryoku shonen tachi no outa #zenryoku shounen #request #cd best time #saeki taiga #sakuraba toa #saito soma #soma saito #umehara yuichiro #lyrics #translation

[butwhyduh]

The Fall Festival

College Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: smut, danger, maybe language. Word count: 3300 Summary: just a normal day for Peter Parker full of a science club meeting, a hay ride, and rescuing the a bunch of people in front of his awesome girlfriend. @thewackywriter

Peter Parker fucking loved fall. He also liked the pumpkin spiced food and the pretty fall scents girls wore. Peter liked the swirly leaves in the park. Mr. Delmar would sell pumpkin empanadas on Fridays in October and they were awesome. The Halloween decorations would spill out everywhere and Peter prided himself on having the best spider webs on the block, probably all of New York. What kind of Spider-Man would he be if he didnt?

But this year he had extra reasons to love fall. He was a freshman at ESU majoring in biophysics and minoring in photography. He wasn't too far from home and could hang out with Ned who went to Queens College and obviously majored in computer science.

And finally, Peter had a girlfriend. He couldn't believe that he found a girl that liked him back. Liz was a disaster and MJ ended up with her coming out gay to Peter after he kissed her. It was horrible. Even though she was really nice about it.

But then he met you at an event at college. He couldn't help but stare at you from across the room. It was pretty unforgettable how you first saw him. It was at the end of the event and he tried to grab a donut beside you and instead you turned around and your foam coffee cup was crushed against his chest. Peter ripped his soaked steaming hot t shirt off right away.

Your eyes widened at his fit form. Woah, he was a nerd with those abs? You quickly looked away and flushed. Peter noticed of course. Instead of asking you out, he turned brick red and basically ran out of the room.

It was a week later, you finally had enough of his eyes on you but never talking to you. You walked up to Peter, who dropped his pen on the floor in the library, and asked him out. He barely stuttered out a yes. A month later you were now officially dating.

You had your hand in Peter's as you walked into the student union building. The science club was meeting and Peter had talked you into going. You sat in one of the last stools in the room. Peter stood behind you with his head on your shoulder. You ran a hand through his hair as the group began. Peter hummed as you scratched his scalp.

Normally Peter was involved but today he was distracted by the smell of your hair, the softness of your sweater, and the way you were scratching his head. He resisted the urge to kiss your neck. You gently tugged at his hair and he stifled a moan.

"Peter, do you agree?" You asked him. He shook out of his thoughts.

"With what?"

"Study group for genetics?" You asked smiling. Peter had been day dreaming. Peter turned red again and nodded in agreement. You noticed he softly gazed at you the rest of the meeting. You tried to pay attention but those soft doe brown eyes were hard to ignore. Especially looking at you like that.

"Hey Pete, what was that? In the meeting. You kept looking at me?" You reminded him. He adjusted his back pack before grabbing yours. You would complain but he always insisted. Plus he was freaky strong. You saw him pick up the corner of a fridge once to get something from under it.

"You...ah.. you look really pretty today," he said. You smiled at him. Sometimes he was too good to be true. You pulled him to the side of the hallway as the meeting room cleared out.

"You're the sweetest boyfriend," you said pulling his collar until he was face level. He grinned at you before lightly placing his lips on yours. You deepened the kiss and Peter practically melted in your arms. He groaned when you bit his lip.

Peter quickly pulled away and adjusted his pants before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the door. You smirked at the thought that you had affected him so. Peter slowed down after a minute and stopped in front of the bulletin board.

"Hey, they're having a haunted hay ride tonight. Do you want to go?" Peter asked excited. You felt nervous. You hadn't ever gone on one. "Come on. Lets go on a hay ride."

You felt his big brown eyes persuade you. "Okay, fine. Don't make me regret this."

You pulled Peter to your dorm room. You needed to study. Plus, you kinda left him in a state. Peter was sweet but too nice and you had to take care of him because he would never ask. He tossed the back pack on your bean bag chair and sat on your bed. You basically pounced him.You straddled him and pulled his beanie and jacket off. "Woah." He ran his hands on your outer thighs. You kissed him deeply and soon you felt his arousal on your thigh.

You pulled his t shirt off and stripped your own top off. Peter gripped your hips tightly as you kissed his neck. He softly panted as you sucked a hickie on his collar bone. His eyes closed and his hands grasped at your bottom.

You lightly pushed at his chest for him to lay back. He flopped to the bed. His erection painfully tight in his pants. You unbuttoned and pulled them off. You shimmied out of your pants and panties. Peter tried to unclasp your bra and you helped him because he wasn't getting it.

You reached in your night stand for the box of condoms as Peter massaged your breasts. You opened the box to find it empty. Your head flopped down as you showed him the box in disappointment. He groaned.

"How are we out?" He whined.

"Uh.." you thought of the last time you had sex. It was after a basketball game and Peter actually took charge and pinned you against the headboard. You had mindless grabbed a condom from the box in the heat of the moment.

"We'll have to get creative," you said simply before bending and kissing his belly button. He shuttered at the sensation.

"Are you gonna?... oh my God," Peter said closing his eye tightly as you took him in your mouth. You were the first girl to go down on him and he still couldn't handle it. Peter began whining as you kitten licked the tip.

When you took him deep in your mouth he whimpered and grasped at the sheets. He was trying hard to not cum. You bobbed your head and his hips bucked softly. Peter panted heavily. Unbeknownst to you, his super senses were going crazy.

"I...I'm..." he gasped. You knew he was close the way he twitched. You softly ran a hand on his thigh as you took him deeper in your mouth. A panicked look flashed across his face and he made a strangled gasp as he came.

A knock at the door made you jump. Peter scrambled to put on his pants. You pulled your clothes on quickly and called, "just a minute." You looked at yourself in the mirror to make sure you didn't look crazy before opening a crack in the door. It was your RA.

"Don't forget that we have a haunted hay ride tonight," she said bubbly. She handed you an orange flyer with the info. You thanked her and shut the door.

Peter sat awkwardly on the bed. You smiled at him. "We should go. Oh, crap. Its almost time," you said looking at your phone.

Peter pulled his shirt on and nodded. "Yeah, okay. You don't want me to..." he trailed off. You grinned at him.

"Afterwards. We can stop at Walgreens on the way back," you whispered and winked. You grabbed your hoodie, okay Peter's, and pulled him to the subway.

Soon you arrived at the stop for the park the university was using for their hay ride. They had a food stand to buy hot chocolate and cider donuts. Kids ran around dressed as characters. Peter grinned largely at any superheroes.

You climbed on the hay ride next to Peter. He held your hand with one hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulder on the other. Soon the trailer was full of college kids and teenagers. A man dressed as a skeleton jumped on the front of the trailer dramatically.

"I'm going to take you to hell!" He began dramatically. An older woman looked at him sternly. "Not really, sorry Mrs Smith. Anyways I'm going to tell you all about the horrors of the park." She raised her eyebrows and he corrected, "the history of the park."

He began telling a story about a legend of the park as the trailer slowly drove down the gravel path dimly lit with Christmas lights around trees. You couldn't quite pay attention because of Peter's close proximity and your unfinished earlier activity.

"This bridge was built in 1904 by the city council because it was common for carriages to get stuck in the mud. During high river level that could be dangerous. So it's probably plenty haunted of people who drown," the guide whispered darkly. The trailer creaked over the bridge decorated with plastic bats and spiders.

"Tyler," Mrs Smith chided.

"Sorry, probably not super haunted. Not as haunted as our next spot that was an early medical facility. Which is also probably not haunted," he said after her look.

Peter suddenly sat straighter and looked around. His spidey senses were tingling. A loud clangour and then screech came from the bridge where the truck and trailer behind them was. Peter jumped from the trailer, grabbed his web shooters and mask from his back pack, and hoped you didn't see him swing through the trees. You definitely saw him. Your blood stopped in confusion and fear. The bridge wiggled visibly. People on the trailer shreiked.

"Karen, what's wrong?" Peter asked.

"Bolts on the top left of the northern side of the bridge are compromised. A 45% chance of collapse," Karen said. Peter cautiously swung close to the side. Ancient metal flaked gold rust.

"Jesus, has anyone ever updated this bridge?" Peter asked himself. He began webbing the broken bolts together. Above him the driver of the truck tried to drive forward. A bolt on the right side snapped loudly and the bridge began to lean the opposite direction.

"There is now an 85% chance of collapse. You need to get them off the bridge, Peter," Karen warned.

"On it," He yelped swinging to the other side. Peter webbed the bolts together. "Drive," he yelled at the driver. The man nodded before flooring the truck. The bridge groaned but held as it drove over. The bridge creaked and whined as it shook. Peter quickly swung away from it and into a tree. In a deafening groan, the bridge collapsed into the river below.

Peter climbed high in the tree to avoid being seen. He pulled off the mask and web shooter and shoved them in his pockets. The police began to arrive and Peter weaved his way through the crowd to you. He prayed that somehow you wouldn't notice his lack of presence.

You searched for him in the crowd. Peter was Spider-Man. Peter was Spider-Man, your mind kept repeating. You lost sight of him as the bridge collapsed. Suddenly you saw him searching for you in the crowd. You ran to him and hugged his roughly.

"You're okay," you gasped. He wrapped his arms around you. You pulled back. "Peter, we need to talk. Not here."

"Uhh.. w-why?" He asked nervously.

"You know," you said seriously. He visibly gulped and looked at you warily. You refused to let go of his hand as you left the growing crowd.

Back at his dorm you sat on the edge of his bed. He stood nearby awkwardly running his hands along the edge of his sweater. The room felt incredibly silent.

"So... you're Spider-Man?" You began.

"Uh... yeah..."

"How? How can you do that... stuff?" You asked confused. He was very strong, you knew. But a superhero? Your boyfriend?

"Well... uh... I was uh.. bit by a spider," he mumbled running a hand through his hair.

"A spider? What kind of spider? Are you messing with me?" You asked.

"No, no, I'm not. At Oscorp I was bit by a radioactive spider that changed my DNA," he said biting his lip. "And now I can do stuff. Don't tell anyone."

"That's... crazy. How long? What can you do? Did you really fight captain America?" You asked rapidly. He smiled slightly.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Uh... I worry about you. But its... its actually kinda hot," you said slyly. Peter's eyes widened.

"It... uh... it is?" He said quickly. You nodded.

"Too bad we didn't stop at the store," you mumbled.

"I'll go right now. If.. If you want," he said eagerly. You laughed.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," you flushed. He grabbed your face and kissed you before running out the door. You grinned at the thought. Now what should you do? Take everything off? Take some things off? Put on his clothing? Do nothing?

You turned on his radio and walked the room. There were subtle clues to Spider-Man everywhere. He had a photo of a spider on his bulletin board and what looked like a blue print of an iron man armor. A newspaper claiming the evils of Spider-Man sat on the desk. His genetics textbook sat on top despite him taking the class the year before.

Peter came back lightning fast. His face pink and his hands clutching a small bag. He dropped the bag on the bed and walked behind you where you were looking at an old photo. Peter wrapped his arms around you.

"What are you looking at?" He said kissing your neck.

"Your graduation. You looked so happy," you smiled running a hand to his hair.

"I almost didn't make it on time. There was a bus that ran through traffic I barely stopped," he remembered. You turned to look at him.

"That's insane. You stopped it with your bare hands?" You said looking at his brown eyes in amazement. He blushed.

"Uh.. yeah, I did."

"That means you can lift a lot," you said with an idea. "There is... uh, something I want to try if that's okay..."

"What? What is it?" Peter asked.

"Can you pick me up when we.. you know," you said looking away.

"You want me to pick you up while having sex? I can do that," Peter said grabbing the back of your legs and wrapping them around his waist. You gasped in surprise. Somehow between your earlier activities, the fear from earlier, and this new knowledge about Peter, you've never been more turned on.

You grabbed his face and began kissing him. Peter groaned as you lightly pulled his hair. He carried you to the bed and laid you down softly. Peter pulled off his shirt and you scrambled out of yours. He grasped the buttons on your jeans and pulled them down. You unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off. Peter quickly yanked his boxers down and then your panties.

You grasped him and rubbed your thumb over his tip as you pumped him. He groaned in your hand. He ran a finger up your slit and rubbed a few circles around your clit before pulling his hand away. You moaned slightly. Peter pulled your hand from his cock and moved to grab a condom. You ran your hand between your legs and began circling your aching clit.

"Woah," he said when he was done rolling the condom on. "That's so hot. Like, wow."

You pinched a nipple between the fingers of your other hand. Your hips rocked as you fucked your fingers. Peter gulped and massaged himself while watching. You pulled your fingers from yourself and put it in your mouth and tasted yourself. He had never seen you do that.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," he groaned. You gave him a come hither motion and he practically hopped across the room. "Do you want me to pick you up? Like- like you said," he stuttered. You nodded.

He wrapped his arms around your bottom ad you grasped his shoulders as he pulled you up. You felt his arousal on your thigh. You kissed him, running your tongue in his mouth to massage his. Your hips ground on him and his hips jumped at the contact.

Peter pulled your hips slightly back and guided you on his length. Nether of you had ever tried this before. You stilled at the sensation. He felt so good in you. Finally you took him deep as you could and began grinding on him again. You could tell Peter wanted more but this position was perfect for rubbing your clit again him.

"Bounce, baby. Please," he finally whined. You began thrusting slowly. His hands deeply massaged your ass cheeks. You groaned as he hit the perfect spot inside you. Every once in a while you swirled your hips and Peter would whine softly. Peter tried to let you control, and you clenched around him felt amazing, but he needed more so he began moving your hips for you setting a harder and faster pace.

You felt your core tighten as you got closer. "Peter, fuck, Peter, fuck," you moaned as he bounced you on his cock. He got a perfect view of your head thrown back and tits bouncing. "Don't stop, it feels so good."

"Yeah, you're so fucking tight and wet. Gonna make me cum, baby girl," he groaned. You gasped in surprise. Peter had never said anything like that. He opened his eyes and slowed down to see what was wrong. "What?"

"Don't fucking stop. I'm close. Keep talking," you groaned as your hips bounced. He growled and continued bouncing you.

"So tight. Such a perfect pussy. Taking it so good. God, I love you," He whimpered lying his head on your shoulder. He was trembling trying not to come.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. dontstop. I'm gonna cum. Gonna cum. Gonnacum," you gasped and your body clenched around his cock and you moaned loudly in ecstasy and your thighs shook. He sped up before losing his pace and he gasped loudly in release, his cock twitching inside you. You kept your legs wrapped around him. His chest beat wildly next to yours. Too soon he laid you on the bed and removed the condom and threw it away. He scooted by you and pulled you on his chest. You lazily ran your fingers on his hand. He rubbed your outer arm with the thumb of his other hand.

"That was... I thought... it was... that was great. Did you-did you think so," he babbled nervously. You smiled.

"Babe, that was awesome. We should definitely do that again. Next week I get my loan and I'll be going to the doctor," you said.

"Oh, for like a check up?" He asked.

"Yeah, and I'm gonna get on birth control," you said casually. Peter stopped moving.

"Does that mean no more condoms?" He asked hopefully. You laughed heartily.

"Yeah, hun, it does. We've got a little while for it to work and everything. You know what we should do?" You asked.

"I'm a... a little to tired-" Peter began.

"Not that. We should get a pumpkin," you said sitting up. You reached over for your clothing and began putting them on. "You know? since we missed it with my boyfriend having to save the day and all. I wanted to get one today."

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #peter parker #spiderman #avengers #avengers 4 #avengers infinity war #peter parker smut #marvel #spider man: homecoming #spiderman far from home #spidey #smut #amazing spiderman #peter parker x reader #college peter parker #college!spidey #college spiderman #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #twwfall2018

[gold-gguk]

《 Talk To Me 》

summary ↠ Adulting has never been fun--especially during the hours of nine-to-five when it’s been said the inescapable feelings of stress and frustration reign. Luckily, on this particular day of shitty circumstances and discourteous bosses, your best friend Jin is there is let you vent and cheer you up...and maybe a little more. 

genre ↠ *sighs* honestly, it’s a little bit of everything (fluff, angst, smut) member ↠ kim seokjin warnings ↠ heavy petting, fondling word count ↠ 3.9k

moodboard by @deba-kookie) || for @loveisah-maze. Thanks for the request!

~

Jin is startled out of the alluring realm of literature clutched within the station of his graceful digits when the front door slams shut with an aggressive thud. From his place on the couch, he turns to see you angrily kicking your shoes off at the entrance, your brow drawn crudely as your lips move with light mumblings to yourself. He watches with puzzlement as you toss your bag away negligently, not even batting an eye when it crashes against the wall, your phone, along with other random belongings, tumbling out into a pile. The closer you get, the easier it is for him to hear you grumbling under your breath, incoherent bashings stemming from a place of obvious frustration that’s written all over your contorted face. 

You pass by the couch with heavy steps, Jin noticing your fists clenched into little, tense balls at your side. Without even glancing in Jin’s direction, you pound into the vast kitchen, almost ripping the door of the fridge off its hinges as you search for a bottle of water to at least cure the effects of the annoying humidity latching onto you from the walk here. 

Tearing the cap off of the beverage and kicking the fridge shut behind you, you guzzle the clear liquid down with fervency, pouring just a fraction of your irritation into the action. You crush the bottle between the clench of your fingers, throwing it haphazardly into the trash can before yanking the too-tight knot of your updo out of the hair-tie allowing your locks to cascade freely around your shoulders, a hand flying up to massage out the soreness of your scalp. Still mumbling almost inaudibly to yourself, you fling the small hair-tie away as if it’s going to break into a million satisfying pieces against the counter, disappointment prodding you when it remains just an unhelpful stress relief landing softly on the marble surface.

Steel footed steps carry you from the kitchen, across the carpet, and towards where Jin is still perched, book in hand, staring wide eyed at the girl who has just barged into the dorm unannounced with the wake of hell. He jolts as you flop your weight onto the cushion of the couch next to him, your arms crossing tensely over your torso as you fix your eyes against the stagnant black of the TV hanging on the wall. From this close, Jin can make out the taught motion of your jaw reacting to the irked bite of your teeth.

Jin waits in the muffled silence for a moment, expecting you to eventually speak, but when he realizes you aren’t even fully aware of his presence next to you, he clears his throat. “So...bad day?”

It’s then that you explode. “OH MY GOD, JIN. Who does my boss even think she is? I mean, I file one thing in the wrong place, and she flies off the wall, having the audacity to accuse me of being incompetent, like she knows me or something! What? I’m not allowed to not be perfect? Everyone knows she spends more time in her office on Pintrest than doing her actual job, Jesus.”

Despite your intense eruption, Jin’s face softens, a relieved smile sighing into his lips. It usually takes ages to get you to talk about what’s bothering you, so any sort of explanation this early in the conversation is a solace to him. “Are you going to be okay?”

You huff. “I’m perfectly fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He can’t hold the amused grin vying for a spot on his lips. “Because it looks like you’re feeling a little violent.”

“I am not feeling violent,” you scoff in defense. “I’m feeling creative with weapons.”

Jin laughs brightly, the twinkling and high-pitched sound sending out a little warmth into the frigid atmosphere surrounding you. “You’re dangerous when you get creative,” he chuckles, holding his hands up. 

“Yeah, let’s hope my boss locks her doors at night. I won’t be held responsible if she happens to miss work tomorrow.” Despite Jin’s gentle giggle, the familiar sound threatening to sedate you, you remain steadfast in your slump, sinking down into the couch as your head falls backwards and your eyes close, chest heaving with a sigh. 

“I’m sure things will blow over by tomorrow,” Jin encourages, placing a gentle hand on the curve of your shoulder, his eyes trailing the momentary placidity of your features as your initial angry energy begins to tire. “Private spats like that are usually forgotten by then.”

Jin suddenly sees your eyes squeeze even tighter in closing, the crease of your lids disappearing entirely under the scrunch of your brows. His eyes widen as your face morphs, the previously frustrated and stony nature of it melting into a weary and worn out shape, the red circles under your eyes becoming more prominent against the shadowed lighting of the room. 

“Jin...” you speak, your voice miles calmer but coated in a frail rasp, the aggression of a moment ago fading out to be replaced by a seeping disquiet. Jin’s smile vanishes, a frazzled worry taking it’s place as he recognizes your sudden shift, uncertain of its origin but disrelishing the way its making you look so upset. 

The book now forgotten on the coffee table, he situates his body so he’s facing you, one leg pulled up on the couch in front of him, his arm rounding the back of the sofa where you’re seated. “Y/N, what? What’s wrong?”

His entirety stills as you suddenly shift next to him, your body lolling sideways as your forehead comes to a soft rest in the slope between his neck and shoulder. You take a selfish moment’s revel in the smooth warmth of his skin, seeking out the comfort of his easy presence: the reason you raced here after the scene at work instead of going to wallow in your own home. Jin’s arm subconsciously wraps around the hill of your shoulders, long fingers pressing gingerly against your fabric clad skin in reassurance. 

“Jin,” you repeat in the same broken tone, your throat clenching with an undesired sting as your memory begins to replay the scene. Frustration mixes with embarrassment at your inability to stop your eyes from prickling uncomfortably just after you had gotten yourself under control. You’d resolved to anger instead of this just before bursting through the front door. You swallow hard to tame the tension building there, wishing to be filled with aggression again instead of being unwillingly reduced to this sorry state by your bossy emotions. 

“Y/N, it’s me,” Jin coaxes, worry only being watered by your silence. “You can talk to me.”

The baby-like strokes his fingers, brushing away the strands of fallen hair curtaining the small bit of your exposed and red face, pry away the last bit of your pride. “She did it in front of the whole office,” you admit shakily, the restrained tears dripping in the tone of your voice. “Everyone was watching me and listening to her say those cruel things. It was humiliating.”

Understanding suddenly befalls Jin’s face, your blue confession tugging at his heart. He knows that your distress is only made worse by the fact that you just started this new job, troubled even more with the notion that your coworkers might just believe the things being said about you before you could imprint on them yourself. 

“I know it’s not that big of a deal, but I just--” Your downplay is cut off by a short choke caught in your pained throat, damp eyes squeezing shut against the fabric of Jin’s shirt, willing yourself to pull it together. 

The soft tut of Jin’s mouth above you comes just before the brush of his hand falls across the plane of your back, a consoling rhythm painting itself out over your spine. “Y/N, it doesn’t matter if it’s a big deal or not. It matters to you, so it matters to me.”

“Everyone probably thinks I’m such an idiot,” you exasperate into his shoulder, eased into expression by his kind words. You notice that your fingers have found their way into the excess material of Jin’s top below you, gentle digits playing absentmindedly in the small comfort of his nearness. 

“It doesn’t matter what they think of you, does it?” he advises maturely, the safety in the sureness of his tone dotting a placid trail of tingles along your arms. “It matters what you are. And what you are is a compassionate, hardworking, empathetic, intelligent ball of unstoppable creativity. So creative that you could probably think up a million new ways for weapons to be used for helping humanity instead of harming it. That’s the kind of beautiful and good-hearted person you are, Y/N, and no amount of bullshit from your boss can change that truth.” 

By the time Jin’s confession is done tumbling eloquently from his pink lips, your head is lifting off of his shoulder to gaze up at him with glossy eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” he laughs at your unbelief. He scans your face for a moment, dark eyes getting distracted by the adorable and childish puff of your cheeks and the way your eyes are even more vibrant after a fresh wash of tears, ever-beautiful with your jutted bottom lip still slightly shaking. A placate grin weaves its way lazily into the web of his features as he takes you in, his free hand still gently pressing rogue hairs away from the frame of your picture. 

“If you want to set up a meeting, I’d be happy to come in to your work and give my speech again,” Jin offers teasingly, now desiring to see the other end of your emotional spectrum. “With all my recent MC-ing gigs, I’ve basically become a professional public speaker. That mixed with this handsome face? Who wouldn’t believe me when I say you’re wonderful?”

His jibbing words spur a giggle that vibrates out from your chest, the sound reading oddly in your ears after all the dejection. “Always so full of yourself,” you tease back, playfully shoving his chest as he grins that sweet smile at you. You find yourself unable to break the mirror of his beam, reflecting back your own minute grin as he snatches your hand away from his chest.

“That’s my girl,” he dotes, absorbing the scene of your lips curling serenely, the way it bunches your face up into a vision of perfect apple cheeks and a button nose. As he breathes in the sight of you grinning endearingly, unaware of the way your chaste giggles make his heart race, he bravely reaches out a hand and swiftly wiggles it against your side, eliciting the much desired response of your high pitched squeals in protest.

“Kim Seokjin, don’t you dare,” you warn, your eyes twinkling with a newfound energy as the subject of your distraction grins mischievously. Without heed, Jin’s hands dart out once more, an iron grip resting around your hips as you’re tugged towards him. All hope is lost as you’re surrounded by the warmth of Jin, being tucked away in the pocket of his legs as he attacks, lithe fingers skirting over the skin at your sides and neck, the two most vulnerable areas, as you’re subjected to unrelenting belly laughs surging up from the pit of your stomach. Your hands press against the planes of Jin’s chest, desperately trying to escape his clutches, but all in vain, the strength of his hold only being fed by the jovial sound of your laughter filling his ears. 

“Stop! Stop, please! It hurts, it hurts,” you laugh giddily, one hand swatting away at Jin while the other clutches your happily sore stomach. Thankfully, Jin’s tickles cease, his fingers remaining in the curve of your waist as your matching laughter dies out. As the blur of happy tears clears away from your eyes, they come to rest only inches from Jin’s face, unaware of how close you two had gotten in the midst of his cheering up. Your body stalls in his lap as your eyes flit, suddenly nervous, across his features, the smooth melanin tone of his skin glowing against the dimming light filtering in through the window. Soft, minty breath pants gently between the pillows of his parted lips, the peeking of his dazzling teeth hidden behind. Dark lashes hood the pools of chocolate brown swimming in the whites of his eyes, the details blurred amongst the irises now visible in the varying shades of cocoa ringed in layers around his pupil. 

You’re acutely aware of where your hands rest in the junctures of his neck and shoulders, thumbs brushing the rise of his protruding collarbone that has come to light at the jaunty shift of his shirt. Jin’s eyes hover over every inch of your face, reinspecting the already memorized location of the faded freckles dotting just over the bridge fo your nose, the baby mole hidden against your jawline, and the almost imperceptible scar carved into the edge of your eyebrow from a playground accident as a child. He soaks in every blemish and perfect imperfection upon your person, his throat clenching with the familiar pit of desire as his gaze lands upon your lips, pale pink and pouty, slightly parted in pause as you stare wide eyed up at him. 

Something in your stomach contracts, tensing with an emotion you’ve never experienced with Jin before. You flinch at the feeling, having the momentary thought to pull yourself out of Jin’s grasp, but finding yourself unable to, the strange sensation spurring an undying curiosity. 

Jin swallows, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort, before he speaks. “I don’t know if it’s because you look especially tempting right now, but...I want to kiss you.”

Your heart hammers out of your chest at Jin’s admission, the sensation in your tummy only intensifying with a burn as his tongue darts out involuntarily to gloss his plump lips. You gulp deeply as your eyes train themselves on the cupid’s line of his mouth, mesmerized suddenly by the vision of them. 

Jin’s eyes glance up to yours then, his statement still hanging heavily in the air between the two of you. As the fire in your stomach rages, it ignites something that you know won’t be doused easily. Still unsure of yourself or the feeling bubbling inside of you, you stare up at your best friend in a way you never have before, suddenly very aware of the way your body is subconsciously curling into Jin’s.  

“Y/N...” he breathes out slowly, his eyes blurring as they study you. “I really want to kiss you.”

You barely feel your head bobbing forward with a whisper of stunned permission, watching with wide eyes as an almost hungry need passes over Jin’s face, a glint of something unfamiliar to you flashing in his irises. His eyes return to gaze at your lips, wetting his own absentmindedly once more as his head descends the short distant to yours. His lips pause for just a moment, hovering centimeters away from your own as he allows you a moment to rethink your options, but you can’t bring yourself to think about anything other the blush red of Jin’s pout hanging tantalizingly over yours. 

Impatience surges through your body, the aching tug in your chest unbearable in this stall propelling you to apply the finishing pressure at the nape of Jin’s neck, pulling him the remaining micro distance to your lips. The moment the blanket of his kiss covers you, you feel like you’re melting into a puddle of noodle limbs and numb muscles, the only thing you feel being the extreme sensitivity of every nerve ending in your body lighting at once.

Once Jin recovers from the fraction of shock at your initiation, he greedily presses himself to you, a nimble hand cradling you to his chest while the other languidly trails up your side to plant itself on the curve of your neck, gooseflesh exploding under the deft working of his fingers. His mouth moves against yours adeptly, the ecstasy and bliss of the long awaited feeling of your lips laid flush with desire against his almost overwhelming. 

You gain self-assurance at the roaming of Jin’s wide hands over your body, completely unaware, until now, of just how desperate you are for his touch, suppressed desire unfurling from its slumber in the pit of your stomach, the fuel to your fire. Your hands raise to tangle themselves in the garden of his black tendrils, your nails biting at his scalp to tug a rumbling moan from the back of his throat. Strong arms lower themselves to your waist, yanking you up from your position off the side of his lap and prompting you to swing your leg over the other side in order to straddle his thighs, all without breaking his precious connection. 

From this new location, he takes advantage of how much closer he can get to you, pressing your chest flush against his with a needy palm. The entirety of your arms slings around his neck, feeling unable to get enough of his figure within your reach. Jin’s fingers slide delicately down the side of your waist, this time eliciting tingles instead of giggles, as he bravely pushes the fabric of your top up a few inches exposing the tempting skin of your hip and the soft slope of your tummy. Jin greedily gropes the newly solicited flesh, methodically rubbing various shapes into your muscles, causing a fresh wave of heat to bubble in your stomach. 

Tilting his head to the side, Jin deepens the kiss, his tongue sponging a stripe along your captive bottom lip, seeking entry into a more intimate part of you. You gasp at the sudden prodding, Jin not missing a beat as he eagerly presses into your mouth, his tongue administering a playful and easy fight with your own. His pearl-like teeth find a hold around the flesh of your bottom lip, biting gently, but enough to shoot jolts through your skin, causing you to jump a bit in his arms with a smothered squeal. You feel him grin amusedly against your mouth, holding you tightly against him as his chest vibrates with laughter. 

It’s with taxed lungs that you pull away for a moment, only to catch your breath, but Jin’s mouth chases after yours nonetheless, whining with objection at the loss of contact. You giggle at his childish pout before he grips your chin between his fingers, tilting you towards him as he feverishly reconnects your lips to his, moving desperately against you. 

“How will I ever get enough of you now that I know what you taste like?” Jin pants, detaching himself from you only to move his unrelenting administrations along the line of your jaw and down your neck, using his firm fingers to tilt your head for easier access. He comes to rest on the smooth skin just under your ear, jolting you when he suddenly begins to harshly suck the flesh, the sting blooming under his mouth quickly soothed by the cool stripe of his tongue drawing over it.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he continues to spill in between his stops along the curve of your throat. Your head is thrown back in rapture, reduced to nothing under his spine-melting kisses, until your attentions are drawn back down to where you can feel the excitement of Jin press against you, the reaction to the heat in his own stomach manifesting itself. Your eyes widen as you take him in, trying your best to address his desire while under the blurring distraction of his lips working over your skin. 

Thoughts begin to sift through your head, but you anxiously push them aside, unwilling for any of your nerves or over-thought to pull the closeness of this beautiful man from your mind’s front. Steeling yourself with the wish to please Jin as much as he’s pleasing you, you release half of your hold in his hair, your hand trailing down his unaware body to the rise of his trousers where your trembling and inexperienced fingers brush over his arousal. 

A sharp hiss cuts between Jin’s clenched teeth, the pleasured sound sedating you. Your fingers halt upon him, unsure of what to do next, until Jin speaks, his arms coiling closely around your shoulders as he pulls back the hair from over your ear, whispering, “Please don’t stop.”

His voice sends chills down your spine that begin turning the cogs in your body again, your fingers trailing over the line of his member a few more times, reveling in the feeling of his long figure squirming with need against yours. You bravely expand your hand, pressing the plane of your palm around him and rubbing slowly, deliberately, blissfully listening to the soft moans and hisses of pleasure seeping from Jin’s clenched throat, his head resting on your shoulder as you work. 

Continuing your gentle massage, Jin lolls his head sideways, meeting your hooded gaze as he seeks out your lips once more, this time more ginger than before. The softness of his swollen pout becomes infinitely more intimate as he takes his time with you, lazy and lovely strokes of his tongue brushing against yours. You feel his wide hand paint a line down to the raised hem of your shirt again, his fingers fitting themselves under the fabric to run against the flesh over your ribs, delicate pads coming to a stop just under the lining of your bra. 

“I want to make you to feel good too,” he barely whispers, his lips ghosting over your face as he speaks in a raspy octave. You groan with permission as Jin’s hand slips slowly under the fabric of your support, phantom fingers tracing the underside of your sensitive flesh, allowing you time to get used to the sensation before he has you mewling for more. You feel him grin against your cheek as your head falls against his chest, groaning with gratification as he gingerly palms your breast, his thumb passing over the rise of your nipple, making you wriggle against him. You fist the fabric of his shirt in between your fingers as his other hand joins the cause, placating the matching hill of flesh with equal attention. 

After a few moments, he has you squirming in his lap, a win-win for him as your thighs grind into his arousal, satiating his needs along with your own. Once the pleasure becomes to much, you eagerly search for his lips again, desiring to alleviate some of the build-up by sponging your affection against him. It’s to your reluctance that Jin pulls away, panting heavily as he rests his forehead against yours. Despite your disappointment that the beauty before you has retreated for the time being, you have to admit your gratefulness for a chance to recuperate, the sudden turn of the events tonight leaving you with a lot to mull through.

Glancing up, you meet Jin’s already staring eyes, two lopsided grins slowly mirroring each other as incredulous and elated laughter spills out between the both of you. Jin’s hand raises to cup your cheek, his thumb skimming the disappearing redness under your glossy eyes. “Feel better?”

You grin stupidly, rolling your eyes up in mock thought. “Hmm, I don’t know...” you joke, not really expecting the dark and teasingly tantalizing look that appears on Jin’s face. 

“I think I know how to fix that.” He grins wickedly, laughter echoing throughout the dorm as he scoops you up in his arms, all of the humiliation and self-doubt of an hour ago long forgotten as you’re whisked happily away to Jin’s bedroom where more newfound fun awaits. 

#kim seokjin #bts jin #jin blurb #jin imagines #jin smut #jin fluff #jin angst #jin reaction #jin fake texts #jin scenarios #jin x reader #jin x you #euphoria #lol i got a little carried away #this is super long #I HOPE YOU LIKED IT #gold-gguk #jin masterlist #bts one shot #bts+imagines #bts scenarios #bts blurbs #bts x reader #bts x you

[thebluesiren66]

The Doctor Will See You Now

Summary: When you go to the office to meet your new general practitioner, Dr. Stan has already had a rough day and he needs a little release ;)

Warnings: SMUT, Dr!Sebastian Stan au, Possible trigger of doctor’s offices and gynecology, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing

Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

guys, please request things! all asks and requests are open, I’m so lonely and uninspired... ;(

“Hey hey! Baby Stan the man!”

Sebastians ears rang and it took everything in him not to groan at the all too familiar greeting. Ever since he had moved into this god forsaken office he had received nothing but snide remarks and blows to his pride. Fresh out of med school he was the youngest doctor out of the faculty, but that didn't mean that he had any less qualification than any other washed up GP in here!

“Hey son, what’s going on?” 

Doctor Quall... on the shorter side, slightly obese, grey with age, and one of the biggest pricks of the general practitioner floor. Sebastian gritted his teeth before turning in his office chair to face his colleague.

“Quall, what can I do for you?” sebastian forced a bitter smile.

“Well, I was just having a look at your patient list for the day and I noticed a pretty serious case. from the looks of things, it could be cancerous. well I know you’re new and all that, so I took the liberty and removed the case from your files. I’ll take care of this one. no need to worry, I’ve got your back kid. let me know if something else comes up!”

Before Sebastian could even say anything, the crude old man was already out the door with HIS patient file!

Damn him!

Sebastian slammed his fists on his desk. who the fuck did he think he was?? I’ve been in this damn office for almost a year! sebastian growled under his breath. I bet he barely passed his residential exams in the first place!

“Doctor Stan?” came a soft voice the the intercom into his office.

“What!?” Sebastian shouted.

There was a short pause... he was taking his anger out in all the wrong ways, he needed to get his head in the game and get back to work. no one deserves to feel subjected to the hate that belonged to another, especially not the on call nurse running the intercoms...

“I’m sorry, what is it?” Sebastian reproached in a calm voice, fixing a stray hair falling over his brow.

“Your 3 O’clock patient is waiting for you in exam room 7 sir” The voice from the intercom spoke.

With a deep breath Sebastian rose from his chair and made his way to the examination wing. Hopefully this could take his mind off things.

You sat in the cold room twiddling your thumbs. Being at the clinic really gave you the creeps, especially one that you weren’t familiar with. your old practitian had just retired and now you needed to meet with the new guy who was supposed to take over her old patients. you had initially thought this would all just roll over and you’d just come in next time you needed a prescription refill or a check up... but evidently because of all the patient confidentiality crap they can’t just transfer your files from your old doctor to your new one. you had to take a whole afternoon off of work, come all they way out here, sign a million things, and meet the new guy to transfer all your old information.

God I hate all this technicall crap... I really just want to go home.. you thought to yourself.

After about 7 minutes of waiting the door roughly swung open and you almost jumped from the exam table. Sebastian laid eyes on your figure, obviously tense and with a hand placed over your chest like you were afraid your heart was about to beat out of your chest and he mentally kicked himself.

“My apologies, I should have knocked..” Sebastian said swavely, attempting his best welcoming smile.

“No that’s okay...” you said as you took in the man before you.

He certainly was a sight to behold... a lot younger than you thought he’d be... he barely looked 30. He had a pair of white scrubs on that were obviously a size too small... it looked like if he moved just the right way, his pecks would rip the front of his stirt straight down the middle... and those white pants strained against his muscular thighs in the most sinful way...

You were pulled from your ogling as he gracefully walked towards your seat on the table.

“Doctor Sebastian Stan at your service.” he held his hand out for you to take.

“(y/n), its a pleasure.” you gave in return, voice about an octave higher than usual.

Sebastian cleared his throat and ran his long fingers through his thick dark brown hair in attempt to keep it under control. he took a seat in front of the computer and logged into his profile to catch your files all up to date.

This all really was a pain in the ass...

Height?

Weight?

Diet?

How many times a week to you exersize?

Previous conditions, medication, surgeries, last time you got your shots, have you been out of the country recently?

jesus christ how long is this going to take?? days?? weeks??

“Alright, last one Miss (y/n). Sebastian gave you an apologetic look over to your slumped over figure.

“When was the last time you had your Pap Smear?”

you paused for a moment thinking, then you felt your face pale... you definitely should have not pushed that one under the rug for so long when you had a FEMALE doctor...

“Uhhh... never...?” you smiled timidly trying to avoid your doctors burning eyes.

Sbastian widened his eyes a tad as he saw a little blush creep up your cheeks.

“Miss (y/n)... I strongly recommend you get that done as soon as possible... you said that your grandmother had cervical cancer didn’t you?”

You nodded your head softly, like a puppy who knows he’s in trouble.

“Well those things can turn out to be hereditary you know...” Sebastian droned on.

“I know... I guess it just always kinda... i don't know... made me nervous...” you sigh.

Sebastian stood slowly and placed one of his large hands on your shoulder and looked at you with those soft kind eyes.

“I understand. It’s completely normal to be nervous about these things going into it... but I assure you, there is nothing to be nervous about. It’s the easiest procedure in the world. takes only about 5 minutes.”

Sebastian smiled at you and you felt the not in your gut slowly melt away little by little.

“Since you’ve come out all this way today, I could do it for you really quick if you’d like... Quick and painless. no extra charge for coming back another day...”

Here comes the knot again... how your fingers grow cold and your head feels foggy...

Sebastian saw how you noticeably reacted to his proposition..

“Of course if you’d be more comfortable, I could speak with the nurses. one of them must have the qualifications to perform such a simple test...”

Before you could even think about it your mouth opened on it’s own accord and spoke for you.

“No! I’d like you to do it...”

Sebastian was surprised at this... but he certainly wouldn’t deny you. he gave you another heart melting smile.

“Go ahead and disrobe from the waist down and you can use the blanket behind you for cover if you'd like. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

everything was moving at X10 speed and Sebastian left you alone in the silence with a bad case of whiplash.

okay... this isn’t so bad... I can do this... just a doctor performing a little test... an extremely attractive doctor... with his extremely attractive hands... all over my vagina... what have I gotten myself into....

Sebastian softly closed the door behind him and leaned his back against the wood. God, the smell of her perfume... her smile... the way her hair shines under the fluorescent lights... how soft her skin was... the sound of her little voice when she got embarrassed. Sebastian cursed under his breath, he couldn’t have those thoughts about her. not about his patient. one little test and she would be out those doors and he could forget. move on with his crappy job and go back to prescribing pain meds to old women with bad joints. no more of this pretty girl who smells sweet... who’s eyes burn holes into your skin... whose legs you’re going to be between in a few minutes... just inches away from her aching pus-

Sebastian shook his head and walked away from the door. just a test. just one test.... he made his way towards the equipment room, trying the images of her getting naked behind that door out of his head.

The cold air over your heat, the vent directly over the exam table, and this tiny blanket was doing nothing to stop the quivering in your thighs. you were beyond tense, but right before you could hop up and put your pants back on to make your escape Doctor Stan knocked softly on the door before swinging it open.

There you were, laying back on the table, half naked and waiting for him...

Shut up

if he kept thinking like that he was going to pop a boner and these scrubs would do nothing to hide it...

you saw Sebastian walk over to the little table beside your head and set down a small bottle with clear liquid inside, and a metal contraption that looked like a pelican beak. you swallow hard and force your eyes away.

Just dont think about it...

Sebastian sat on his stool and pulled out some latex gloves from a little box on the counter and wheeled his stool and the little table over to you. you were to scared to look down at him, but it was like you could feel him hovering over your heat...

you took another deep breath and closed your eyes.

“Alright Miss (y/n), let's get your legs up.” Sebastian said.

those words went straight to your core and just made you a thousand times more nervous... if he’d only say that while you were laying flat on his bed-

Sebastian carefully gripped your ankles and pulled you legs up to rest in these stirrup holders that unfolded from the side of the table you were on. now you were sure your face was full on tomato. you were laying back, basically spread eagle in front of Dr. Dreamy here... with only this tiny blanket between his face and your most intimate pla...

“I’ll be lifting the blanket a little now Miss (y/n)” Sebastian soothed.

you didn’t trust you voice, so you only nodded at his statement. you closed your eyes and waited for a cold rush of air that would signal you were bare to him.

Sebastian held his breath as the light cloth was slowly pulled up to rest on your knees. you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.. every part of you was delectable... your skin so soft and supple... he began to wonder if he was the first man to touch you here... he doubted it, but you just seemed like a ripe fruit, begging to be devoured. how he longed to get a taste...

Clearing his throat and shaking himself out of his daze, Sebastian picked up the small bottle. “I’ll just apply a small amount of lubricant...”

Your eyes shot open at that

“L-lubricant??” you asked, looking down at him.

“it make it easier to insert the examining device, we need to be able to test the surface of the cervix without the vaginal walls closing around the swab.” sebastian said softly.

you laid back again and bit you lip

what in the actual fuck did i get myself into...

Sebastian applied a small amount of the clear liquid into his gloved hand.

“I’m going to touch you now...”

Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek as he slowly reached forward to touch your throbbing center. using one hand he spread your lips and he was met with your beautiful pink skin. without even thinking he took his lubed hand and brushed his fingertips against your clit that was beginning to swell. he felt you gasp and flinch at the contact, but he was too mesmerised to look back up at you this time.

“Sorry if my hands are cold...” Sebastian said as he slowly moved his fingertips down to your tight hole, slicking you up.

when his fingertip met with your opening he frowned. you were so tight he doubted he could even slip one of his fingers into you, let alone the clamp...

“This will take longer and be more uncomfortable if you’re tense... try and relax” Sebastian soothed.

you nodded, but you just couldn't make your body obey. every single muscle was wound tight. Sebastian noticed your struggle and he bit his lip... this could be risky... unethical even... but as long as it was all in the name of the procedure right..?

“Alright, I’ll be applying a small amount of pressure to see if this will help you relax... if at any time you feel uncomfortable just say so.” Sebastian said placing a hand on your ankle and squeezing comfortingly.

Sebastian took his lubed hand once more and pressed the pad of his thumb against you clit. this time when he felt you hips jerk he started small ministrations against the sensitive bud.

You clamped you hand over your mouth to contain the moan lodged in your throat and you felt your thighs start to quiver again.

With ever circle over your clit Sebastian could feel you loosening up for him. His finger was still nestled against your entrance and he waited until you were dilated with pleasure up to almost two of his fingers before he held the metal clamp against you hole. he wanted to tell you to prepare for the insertion, but he was afraid if he gave you a warning, you would only close up on him again. so without so much as a word, he slid the long piece of metal into your tight heat to the hilt.

When you felt the unexpected intrusion slide inside you all the way to your cervix, you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips or the arch in your back.

“Sorry, just didn’t want you to tense up on me before I could get in there...” Sebastian said, looking at the undoubtable look of pleasure on your face.

you chanced a look down at the man between your legs and you immediately regretted it. a devilish smirk adorned his handsome face as he looked up at you and you instantly felt the spark in the pit of your stomach.

“Now comes the easy part.” Sebastian started.

“I’m going to widen the clamp so I can see the cervix, then we’ll take a swab sample, and we’re all done.”

You nodded and braced yourself for whatever “widening  the clamp” meant.

You felt it as soon as he started, it was the weirdest yet  strangely pleasurable feeling you’ve ever known. you could feel the end of the metal tool deep inside you beginning to open and stretch you open wider. you felt so full... and yet so empty, since it was just a hollow metal tool... and it made you ache to feel something.. something bigger... hotter... something like Doctor Stan’s...

You had been so lost with your mind in the gutter that you didn’t even feel him take the sample.But you snapped out of it when you felt the long slick piece of metal being pulled from your core.

Sebastian put the sample in a test tube and took his gloves off before turning his attention back to you to release your legs from the stirrups. but before he could release the buckle the door to the exam room swung open.

From behind the door came an older man whose shirt was a little too small... but not in the sexy way this time... holding a stack of papers in minella folders. you shot up from your lying position trying to contain your modesty, But Sebastian got to you first. he swiftly covered you with his lab coat and walked to stand between you and the intruder.

“Hey baby Stan the man, I was just having a look at some more of you files and-”

“Doctor Quall I am with a patient! you are disrupting her privacy and patient confidentiality!” Sebastian shouted at the bulbous old man.

His voice was stern, scarry almost. but the old man just scoffed and ruffled Sebastians hair as if he were a child.

“Nice try Sebby, I’ll be taking another two cases off your workload for you!”

And with that.. the door was shut and the old man was gone just as swiftly as he came...

Sebastian's hair was tousled  and his hands were balled into fists. he looked as if her were about to explode...

“Doctor Stan...?” you called out softly.

Sebastian quickly turned his attention back to you, his eyes sparkling with rage.

“No one in here treats me with any fucking respect! That shit happens day in and day out because I’m the youngest doctor here! fuck that! I shouldn’t be here, I should be a surgeon working in an OR not a fucking washed up clinic!”

Sebastian kicked at the examining stool and pulled at his hair in anger. he was like some volatile predator ready to attack... and god damn if that didn’t turn you on...

Sebastian cooled as he saw your blank expression staring up at him. in a moment of clarity, he fixed his hair again.

“I apologise.. that was extremely unprofessional of me..” Sebastian said softly, gaze fixed to the floor.

“I understand”

your eyes met then, you gave him a small smile and he felt the remainder of his composure melt. it was too late, you were chipping away at his cracked foundations and now the dam was coming down...

“Fuck it. I’ll quit tomorrow anyway...”

Sebastian was on you in a single stride. he stepped between your still sterrupped legs and tangled his hands in your hair as he smashed his lips against yours.

Taken aback, it took your brain a moment to recognize what was happening, but you quickly melted into his power and trailed your hands over his wide shoulders. his tongue was already invading your mouth and his hands were starting to wander down  to the small of your back where your shirt had ridden up. he greedily shoved his strong hands under the shirt and kept pushing till it was up and off your shoulders. in that moment your lips disconnected he took the time to let his eyes wander over your breasts and to the cute little lacy bra you had chosen for today.

He quickly pulled away from you and walked backwards. at first you were afraid he was just going to run out and leave you there, but then you saw his graceful fingers brush over the door lock.

“This will be a private examination...” Sebastian turned his gaze back to you and you saw the raw hunger in his eyes.

With dangerous prowess, Sebastian strode over to you and ripped the blanket and his coat from your lap. he leaned back over you and started kissing over your stomach, reaching lower and lower with each peck.

“This wasn’t my first pap smear you know... the rest of them were painfully... uneventful... but you... this pussy just ... does things to me...” Sebastian growled against your skin.

Your hands laced in his hair as his kisses reached your pubic bone.

“I’ve been wanting to taste you all afternoon...”

Sebastian dipped his head between your spread thighs and licked a stripe up your lips. His hands flew to your hips and held them down when you tried to arch off the table. his fingers were holding you so tight you were sure they'd bruise, but you only bucked into his face harder when he wrapped his soft lips around your clit and started flicking it ever so lightly with the tip of his tongue.

you were panting and forcing yourself to swallow the screams Sebastian was trying to force out of you. you’d managed to remain fairly quiet... until two of his long fingers slipped into your core.

you arched your back again and let out a strangled cry as he continued his assault on your clit while curling his deft fingers into that spot inside you that made you melt for him.

“Doctor Stan... I- I’m gonna...” you cried.

He ripped himself away from you in that moment and you whimpered at the loss. you look up just in time to see him rip his shirt over his head and pull his impressive cock out of his pants. you couldn’t help but stare as it bounced proudly when Sebastian walked towards you.

He leaned down over you and you could feel the weight of it against your waiting core. he tangled his hand in your hair again.

“Call me Sebastian...”

He pressed your lips together again and swallowed your moans as he roughly drove himself into your wet heat.

he started a brutal pace, hips snapping into yours and making your whole body shake with the force of it. you swore he was even deeper inside you that that tool had been earlier.

he was grunting wildly with each trust and he roughly shoved his hands under the cups of your bra to squeeze your breasts and tweak each nipple. your arms were firmly wrapped around his neck and your nails were digging into his muscular shoulder blades, but that only made Sebastian thrust into you harder. you could’ve sworn he was going to split you in half. his tongue on yours, hands on your breasts, abdomen rubbing against your clit with each thrust, and a hard cock so deep inside you...

“God Sebastian...” you moaned, coming closer and closer to your end.

“That's it baby... say my name when you cum for me... say it..” sebastian growled into your ear as he picked up his pace.

you felt his teeth bite into your neck and that was the end of your rope. you fell head first over the edge and came a sharp cry of his name as Sebastian's thrusts were getting more erratic until he finally released  and let his hard body rest on top of yours. both sweaty and spent.

After a few moments you felt Sebastian prop himself up o his elbows. his shallow breath fanned over your face as he fixed a strand of your hair and looked down at you with that devilish smile again.

“I want you to come back to me in a week for another thorough examination Miss (y/n)”

#smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #mine #doctor au

[lamujerarana]

My ReedSue lesbian childhood sweethearts/science geniuses AU:

First off, since Reed’s Californian, my AU Girl!Reed would be either Native or Mexican or both. She’s also autistic. Sue is black.

Reed first meets Sue when Sue’s family moves to Reed’s hometown of Central City, California, not long after baby Johnnie is born. They’re both 8. (I love the Lee/Kirby childhood sweethearts origin.) Of course, the move created friction between Mary and Franklin Storm, who was unhappy about having to leave his very lucrative practice in Long Island, and the loud, spiteful fights get a little overwhelming for Sue sometimes. She’s afraid a divorce is on its way. Sometimes she wishes they would just get it over with, and then she hates herself for thinking it because she doesn’t want that. She feels very alone and unhappy, until she meets Reed.

Reed and Sue talk about science all the time. Their curiosity is boundless. They want to know everything! Why everything is the way it is! They want to see everything too. They’ll lie in the grass together sometimes and dream about all of the places they want to go. They’ll point to stars up in the sky and promise each other they’ll visit them together someday. It makes Sue happy, thinking there’s somewhere she can go to get away from all of this.

Sue is a very popular girl in school. She carefully cultivates an image as a preppy jock and everyone loves her, but she’s much smarter than anyone ever assumes—they see the pretty face and fashionable clothes and assume she’s an airhead—and she keeps the marital strife at home a secret. She is always seemingly happy and perfect and everything everyone wants her to be. Except when she’s with Reed. With Reed, she can be herself, she can cry, she can worry about what’s going to happen to her and Johnnie if their parents are divorced, she can geek out about astrophysics, she doesn’t have to worry about how she looks, and Reed never judges her for any of it.

Got long, so there’s more under the cut.

Reed’s not exactly popular. She’s a nerdy, messy, strange girl—hair always unkempt, glasses all askew, clothes whatever odd combination she slaps on in the morning. She’s been known to wear socks—and even shoes—that don’t match. Head always a million miles away. She likes tweed coats and sweaters and little bow ties, hates dresses, wears her hair short so it won’t interfere with her experiments, and is always oddly formal and eloquent, which the other kids make fun of her for. They also laugh because she’ll do strange things in the name of science that no one except Sue ever understands the reasons for, and she’ll occasionally have meltdowns she can’t stop in public when there’s too much sensory information for her brain to process. Everyone thinks she’s weird. Reed is upset about it sometimes, but mostly she’s too interested in her work to care. As long as she has Sue, she’s okay.

Sue sticks up for Reed when people are cruel about her, even though no one understands why she loves Reed so much. Reed is the best person she’s ever known, Sue will snap, and everyone else would be lucky to be half the girl she is.

Sue prefers it over at Reed’s because Reed’s parents—despite oftentimes being distracted by their research—take an interest in Sue and her scientific work and challenge her intellectually. They even give Sue and Reed their own lab and encourage them to conduct scientific experiments. They quiz Sue and Reed on science and history and give them assignments, and Sue loves having mentors, people she can actually talk to about science who know what she’s talking about. She especially loves Reed’s mom, Evelyn, who is everything she wants to be when she grows up. Things at the Storm household, on the other hand, continue to deteriorate daily. Sue can feel that a divorce is imminent.

Everything changes the day Sue’s mother dies in a tragic car accident. Her father was driving. They were arguing, the car skidded off the road, Mary died, Franklin survived. Her father blames himself and starts to drink and is never around, so it’s up to Sue to take care of her little sister. The time she spends with Reed, obsessing over science, diminishes, as her life is taken over by caring for a five-year-old who misses her mother and doesn’t understand what’s going on.

Eventually, the Storms’ fortune is gone, and they can’t keep the house, and her dad is too drunk to hold down a job, so they end up renting a terrible, cramped apartment in the city, and Reed and Sue see each other even less, although Reed does everything she can to help. She even helps take care of Johnnie, which is easier once she figures out that little Johnnie is fascinated by cars and engines. They start designing and building engines together in Reed’s lab, which helps calm Johnnie down when she’s upset and makes her feel that someone cares about her enough to pay attention (Sue’s so busy taking care of everything). And Reed’s heart melts the day Johnnie announces that Reed is awesome and the coolest person ever. Reed rapidly becomes little Johnnie’s favorite person and her role model—she won’t stop talking about Reed! It annoys Sue a little, even though she loves Reed too. Sue reminds Johnnie to brush her teeth every night, she supposes, while Reed gets to be the fun one.

Reed’s mother dies in a lab explosion not long after. Sue holds Reed as she cries that night, thus returning the favor for all of the times Reed held her after her mother died. They lie in bed and talk and cry all night long, and Sue tells Reed that it won’t ever stop hurting, and she’ll never stop missing her mom, but it will get better. Reed doesn’t think it’s possible that this grief will ever go away.

Then Sue’s father is wrongly arrested for murder and convicted, and everything changes again. Sue and Johnnie move back to Long Island to live with an aunt they hardly know. Sue cries herself to sleep for weeks, but she’s also a little relieved—everything was overwhelming and awful and she wasn’t equipped to be a mother at 12 or deal with an angry, abusive, self-destructing father. Reed is devastated at losing the two people she loves the most. She doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like it when things change. They stay in touch, and Reed visits Sue in Long Island whenever her father will let her, but it’s not the same.

Reed finishes school early and starts applying to colleges at 14—Sue would have too if she hadn’t been busy taking care of her baby sister. All of the schools Reed applies to are near Sue. Which is good, because Reed’s father disappears not long after, and she has no one left except Sue and little Johnnie. She moves into Sue’s aunt’s boardinghouse and feels happy for the first time in a long time. She gets to see Sue and Johnnie every day! It’s everything she ever wanted! She’s pleased to discover that Johnnie still loves her and follows her around everywhere and asks if she can help in all of Reed’s experiments, so Reed gives her simple tasks to make her feel like she’s helping. She also explains everything very patiently so that little Johnnie will know what she’s doing. Johnnie only understands about a tenth of it, but she nods very sagely at everything as though she does get it.

Sue and Reed start dating when they’re 15. It takes longer than it should have, because Reed has trouble figuring out Sue likes her. She’s been in love with Sue and known it for a while, even before Sue did. But she can’t fathom what Sue could ever see in her. Sue’s been dropping very pointed hints for at least a year when she finally gets tired of waiting for Reed to figure it out and just blurts out that she likes Reed.

They meet Bennie Grimm, an 18yo Jewish, lesbian football star, at ESU when they’re 19 and Sue’s starting her first Ph.D. and Reed’s on his second, and the three of them become best friends. Inseparable. Bennie can’t keep up with them scientifically, it’s true, but, beneath her bluster, she is the kindest and most ethical person they’ve ever met. And she keeps them grounded in their inventions – sure, they CAN build a ray that turns inanimate objects into chocolate, but is it morally responsible to do so? (Johnnie thinks yes, and asks for one for Christmas. Sue says she’ll think about it.) Aren’t there perhaps better uses for their genius?

It takes Sue a little longer, but she manages to get her Ph.D. eventually, once Johnnie’s a bit older and can take care of herself, and once she does, she and Reed start working on designing and building their spaceship together. They talk excitedly of the possibility of encountering alien life once the ship is finished—what will they be like? What will they think of humanity?

They’re devastated when the military pulls its funding and they are told their ship will never fly. Everything they’ve worked so hard for all these years! All for nothing. Sue and Reed conspire to steal the ship with Bennie and Johnnie’s help.

And so they manage to live out their dream by flying out to greet the stars in the ship they built together…only to come crashing back to Earth, their lives and bodies irrevocably altered.

Sue gives Reed the name “Ms Fantastic” when they're all trapped in a military prison in the days following the crash, and all terrified at being imprisoned, studied, and experimented on, at what they’ve become. She overhears soldiers saying that Reed has shut down completely, she isn’t talking, isn’t moving, refuses to eat or drink, and so she’s worried sick about her. This must be impossible to process. So the first chance she gets, once she’s sure she’s got adequate control of her powers, she turns herself invisible, sneaks out of her cell, and goes to see Reed. She’s a little horrified at the sight—Reed is sagging in a chair and clearly can’t control her limbs, her arms are stretched out everywhere and covering the floor like an overturned bowl of noodles, but she reminds herself that this is the woman she loves and shoves it all away. Sue carefully picks her way over to Reed and tries to convince her that this isn’t her fault—no one could have predicted this. Sue didn’t either. She talks and talks about how wonderful Reed is and how much she loves her, but it’s not until she tells Reed that she’s always thought of her as her own Ms Fantastic that Reed starts to cry, finally letting out all of her shame, despair, grief, and disappointment, her terror at being trapped in a body that feels so wrong, a body that she can’t control anymore. “I don’t feel fantastic,” Reed whispers. “I don’t think I am.” “Consider it a promise, then,” Sue whispers back. “To the three of us, to the world. Of who you’ll become.” And with Sue’s help, she does her best to live up to it.

They manage, somehow, to piece their lives back together. They start exploring and cataloging the universe together, and now when they lie in bed and dream of visiting some far distant star, they can actually turn their dreams into a reality. They’ve seen so many wonders together throughout the whole of time and space, but none quite so fantastic as their love for each other.

#fantastic four #reedsue #reed richards #susan storm #mister fantastic #invisible woman #marvel #comics #my fic #body horror cw #i'll write it someday!

[starsdustzuko]

Ever After Klance AU bc I have no life

Lance is Danielle

Pidge is Gustav

Keith is Henry

Shiro is Leonardo Da Vinci

Hunk is Jacqueline

Shay is the Royal Guard person

THE HORSE SCENE

Lance was the son of a merchent

the merchent married a mean lady with some kids

probably Rolo (as Margarete) and Hunk (as Jacqueline)

Lance’s dad dies

:((((((

now he’s a servant in his own home

in his own home... DAMN

We open up with Keith running away from home bc he is an angsty boy who doesn’t want to be confined to a guilded cage

He ends up at Lance’s farm and steals a horse bc god damn his royal ass horse slipped a shoe

Lance is picking apples in the orchard for his dickbag of a stepmom

Lance is not about to let some stranger steal his fathers horse so of course he throws the apples at the thief

Keith falls off the horse, his hood slips off. Lance straight up just falls to the ground like holy shit I just threw apples at the Prince I hit him on his head oh boy today is the day I die

Keith is like... “here have some money and shut the fuck up I won’t kill you just don’t tell anyone you saw me,”

during his dramatic running away event, Keith meets the guy he’s been looking up to his whole life, Shiro

“Please sir, my father is the king of backward thinking, and you are the very founder of forward thinking,” -Keith

“Captain Shay, do translate,” -Shiro

“Prince Keith suffers from... an arranged marriage, among other things,” -Shay

Royal Guard Captain Shay is amused

Lance uses the money to bring back a servant his stepmom sold away

“You’ll never pass for a nobleman! You’re too nice!” -Pidge

Lance and Keith meet again in front of the castle.

Keith’s a total goner bc god damn look at this nobleman saving servants and quoting Thomas Moore and giving him all sorts of hell he’s in l o v e

“A name, any name,” - Keith

“I’m afraid the only name to leave you with is Countier August de Barbarac,” - Lance

i gave him my fathers name?????????????????????

Lance doesn’t give a shit and a half bc this prince guy is arrogant??

“Yes I know that, you’ve been saying it all day,” - another servant probably

Keith can’t get pretty boy nobleman out of his head & he becomes like... desperate to find him

He’s also getting pretty sick of Rolo throwing himself at him every chance he gets

By chance Keith and Lance meet again by a lake when Shiro spooked the fuck out of Lance by walking on water

“Why do you keep irritating me so?” -Lance

“Why do you rise to the occasion?” -Keith

heart eyes motherfucker

and then Lance leaves abruptly bc he can hear Hunk calling from him from the other side of the lake and lol oops can’t let Keith know I’m a fucking servant bye

Keith is confused

“Why does he keep doing that?”

“Look Pidge! It’s flying!” - Lance with Shiro’s flying contraption

“Idgaf Lance,” - Pidge as they paint

“I don’t know why you’re so happy. The prince might be your brother in law!” -Pidge

“I don’t care,” - Lance

Pidge see’s Keith and Shay riding across the hay field toward them

“Oh? And what would you say to him if you saw him again?” - Pidge

“Your highness, my family is your family, please, take them away!” - Lance

“Well good, here’s your chance! He’s coming this way!”

Lance hides behind a stack of hay

and then

“I believe, your highness, that he’s staying with his cousin! Ah the... Countess Nyma de Ghant!”

“Shit”

“But I can assure you, your highness, that he is there! ALONE! Right now,” - Pidge

“ ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º) “ - Keith

And

“Pidge you horrible little snipe! He’s on his way to my house!”

“Then you better run fast!” 

Keith shows up at Lance’s house and Lance is lookin’ fine as hell????

Asks Lance to accompany him to the Monistary where the books are

“It’s not fair, your highness has discovered my weakness, but I have yet to learn yours,” -Lance

“I should think it obvious,” - Keith while staring into the very depths of Lance’s soul

THE WHOLE LIBRARY SCENE

ANGSTY KEITH

LANCE IS SO IN TOUCH WITH HIS EMOTIONS AND SO DEEP AND SO MANY CONVICTIONS I’M SO ANGRY

And then the fucking part where the carriage gets fucked up and they have to walk home and get lost so Lance (to avoid getting his clothes fucked up strips down to his undergarments to climb a cliff to see where they’re going) and then the gypsies attack & Lance fucking pounces on a guy while Keith is kicking ass

and then a gypsy pulls a knife on Lance and Keith immediately gives up

“Please, your quarrel is with me, leave him out of this,”

“I demand you return my things at once! Since you’ve deprived me of my escort I demand a horse as well,” - Lance

“Sir, you can have whatever you can carry,”

Lance picks Keith up and walks away

Gypsies are so amused they let Keith and Lance hang with them for the night

Keith and Lance kiss and the Gypsies loose their shit

Literally everything goes to shit after that night alright Lance punches Rolo in the face, gets whipped and tries to break up with Lance all in like a day (a mess)

Keith is ?????????????

“What do you mean you met with Madam Nyma and Rolo today?”

“What do you mean he’s engaged?”

“To know he was engaged and he damn well should have said something- oh,”

bc Lance tried to just earlier that day but Keith didn’t listen bc he was so in love?????

Nyma is PISSED and locks Lance away in the cellar bc no servant of mine is going to fuck up Rolo’s chances with Prince Keith

The Servants don’t know what to do so they send Pidge to talk with Shiro

Pidge almost dies bc holy shit that’s Shiro?

an artist/inventor/genius god???????????????????

Shiro unlocks the door & saves the day

“why that was pure genius!”

“Yes! I shall go down in History as the man who opened a door!” -Shiro

He also makes Lance a bomb ass costume for the ball

“A bird may love a fish, signore, but where would they live?”

“Then I shall just have to make you wings,” 

Madam Nyma, Rolo, and Hunk roll up to the party

HUNK AND SHAY ARE BOTH DRESSED AS HORSES AND ARE TOTAL GONERS FOR EACH OTHER AFTER 1.3 SECONDS

Right when Keith’s father is going to annouce that Keith will marry Prince who gives a shit of whatever country, Lance rolls up to the party in a bomb ass costume with wings

Keith is a fucking goner and runs to his love

“Please, there is someting I must say before another word is spoken,” -Lance

“Whatever it is, my answer is yes,” - Keith

gdi Keith

Madam Nyma isn’t happy so she drags Rolo toward Lance and rips off his wings

the whole story comes out how Lance isn’t really a courtier and he was just faking it and Keith is hurt?????? August- Lance has been a big fuckin liar????? The shit?

“And you? You are just like them,”

Lance runs away crying. He trips and loses his shoe (SHUT UP THIS IS A CINDERELLA STORY OK THE SHOE IS IMPORTANT) and to add onto the dramatics it starts to rain

Shiro see’s him running away and tries to call out but Lance doesn’t look back???? 

Shiro grabs the shoe and brings it to Keith

Shiro: *deep sigh* BOI

Keith: *angsty angst angst*

“He is your match, Keith!” -Shiro

“I am the crowned prince of ???. I have a sworn duty. And I will not yield!” -Keith

“Then you don’t deserve him,” -Shiro

Back at the farm Lance get’s sold to Sir-dicks-for-brains who’s super lusty for Lance it’s gross

Back at the Castle, Keith is gonna get married to some Prince from whatever

Prince from Whatever is hypervenilating

Keith finally realizes he’s an idiot and lets the other Prince go to his love

He runs out the side door and asks one of Madam Nyma’s other servants where Lance is

“But he has been sold sire!” -servant

“Sold? To whom?” -Keith

“To Sir-dicks-for-brains, your highness, just after the Mask” -Hunk

“Tell no one we have spoken, for all will reveal itself in due course,” -Keith

he runs off with Shay to find Lance

Meanwhile Lance is in chains bc he tried to run away from Sir-dicks-for-brains

Sir-dick-for-brains attempts to molest Lance

Lance gives him a good jab with a sword

“My father was an expert swordsman sir, he taught me well. Now hand me that key or I swear on his grave that I will slit you navel to nose!” -Lance

Sir-dick-for-brains hands him the key and my boi is GONE

Lance has literally just stepped outside when Keith and his royal army show up to save Lance

“What are you doing here?” -Lance

“Rescuing you,” -Keith

“Rescue me? A commoner?” -Lance

“Actually I came to beg your forgiveness, I offered you the world and at the first test of honor I betrayed your trust. Please Lance,” -Keith

“Say it again,” -Lance

“I’m sorry,” -Keith

“No! The part where you said my name,” -Lance

“Lance,”

Lance straight up melts into a puddle

“Perhaps you would be so kind to help me find the owner of this... rather remarkable shoe?” - Keith

“Where did you find that?” -Lance

“He is my match in everyway, please tell me I haven’t lost him,” -Keith

“It belongs to a peasent, your highness, who only dressed up as a courtier to save a mans life,” -Lance

“Yes, I know, and the names Keith if you don’t mind,” -Keith

“I kneel before you, not as a Prince, but as a man in love, but I would feel like a king, if you Lance, would be my husband,” 

EVERYTHINGS GAY AND HAPPY AS LANCE ACCEPTS BC GOD DAMN THAT PROPOSAL WAS ONE FOR THE AGES

Meanwhile at the farm de Ghent

Madam Nyma and Rolo are pissed and learned that Hunk saw the prince after he ran out the side door

“Well how was I supposed to know he’d come flying out the side door! He was supposed to be getting married!” - Hunk

“I heard the prince talked to you, what did he say?” - Rolo

“I can’t be sure... it all happened so quickly... but what I think he said was ‘serves me right for chosing some foreigner over your... brother,” - Hunk

Nyma and Rolo are in a fit of giggles. Hunk is smirking at his own genius

The Royal guard comes to escort the de Ghent family to the Castle where they are presented to the King and Queen

“Madam de Ghent is it true you lied to her majesty, the Queen of ????” - the King

Madam Nyma pales and tries to stutter out an excuse. Rolo tries to save his hide. An arguement esues

“My heavens are they always like that?” -the King

“Much worse, your majesty,” - Hunk

“Hunk, darling, I hate to think you would have anything to do with this,” -Nyma

“Of course not mother, I’m only here for the food,” - Hunk

Shay grins

Nyma and Rolo are stripped of their titles and almost sentenced to the America’s unless someone speaks for them

ENTER PRINCE LANCE

EVERYONE BOWS

“Rolo... I don’t believe you’ve met... my husband,” -Keith

Lance is a good soul who doesn’t have his step-mother or insane step-brother sentenced to the Americas

“All I ask, your majesties, is that you show them the same kindness they have shown me,” 

NOW THEY WORK IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM HECK YEA SON

Some months later

Shiro shows off a lovely paining of Lance

Pidge makes a joke of calling Lance “Your Highness”

Keith doesn’t like the painting

“For a man of your talents... it doesn’t look a thing like him,”

“You sir are supposed to be charming!” -Lance

“And we, Prince, are supposed to live happily ever after?” -Keith

“Says who?” -Lance

“You know... I don’t know,” -Keith

GAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

#this straight up took me two days to write out #Lance McClain #Keith Kogane #Takashi Shirogane #Pidge Gunderson #Hunk #Voltron #au #my writing #ch: Lance McClain #ch: Takashi Shirogane #ch: Keith Kogane #ch: Pidge #ch: Hunk #tv: Voltron #Ever After au #I KNOW ALL THE QUOTES BY HEART OK I FUCKING LOVE THIS MOVIE SO MUCH #BYE

[rancidpancakebatter]

Another Way to Fly-[P.P.] | Chapter Six

Pairing: TASM!college!Peter Parker x female!college!reader

Summary: You've been dating Harry Osborne for three years. You love him...but maybe not as much as you once did. Maybe not enough.

AU Where Norman isn’t as sick- he’s just an asshole- and Gwen didn't go to Oxford. Harry is functioning as an apprentice at Oscorp (He graduated with a master's in two years because of his studying abroad). You, Peter, and Gwen are all seniors at ESU. Because Peter isn't Spider-Man and Norman isn’t dying, the whole “Goblin” thing is scratched from the record, so Peter and Harry are besties.

Prompt: Based on an ask for my 200 Follower celebration

Word Count: 3.9k

Content Warnings: Swearing, Implications of sex, drinking (of age)

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A/N: Everyone, buckle up! Things are getting messy

The first thing you notice is that you are not in your bed. Your hand traces over the corduroy ridges under your fingers and the awkward distribution of padding. This is a couch. Your eyes blink slowly, trying to adjust to the blinding light. After a few moments, you realise you’re on Peter’s couch. Which means you didn’t go home. 

You move to stretch and realise your clothes feel foreign. As you lift the blanket, you see boxers and a hoodie- both also belonging to Peter. You vaguely remember changing into them last night. But then you remembered why you weren’t home. 

You were too scared to face Harry after drinking. No, you were too scared after talking to Peter. Your head begins to pound, your hangover making itself known. Your embarrassment from last night compounds, and your head spins with wild speculations of the ones swirling around your friend’s head. Surely he thought you were a freak of some kind for your behaviour last night. The secondhand embarrassment and hangover mix had your stomach churning, and you jumped up from the couch to rush to the restroom. But when your feet hit the floor, you tripped over a limb you didn’t expect to be there and crashed onto the sleeping man on the floor. 

Amber eyes blinked up at you, the confusion etched in his brow melting into something akin to affection. 

“Mornin’ Led Head.”

The gravel in Peter’s voice shakes you, and you don’t know much, but you know you wanna hear it again. 

“Mornin’ Pete.”

He smiles, then looks around. “So whatcha doin’ down here?”

You suddenly remember you’re chest-to-chest with your friend on the floor and hop up, accidentally kneeing him in the stomach on your way. 

“Sorry, I fell.”

You then leave the living room, stepping into the hall. You pass the bedroom and decide to peek in, still trying to piece your evening together. Gwen was nowhere to be seen, but the bed was unmade, so she must have creeped out this morning. You made a mental note to text her later and apologise for being so drunk in her home, and to thank her for letting you stay over.   

You try your best to freshen up, look more presentable, but it doesn’t matter how much water you splash on your face- Harry still plagues your mind. You feel guilty for the way you reacted, and even more when you think of how worried he must have been. 

You finally step back out into the living room, and now you see that the coffee table was pushed against the wall. Peter seemed to have moved it to make room for the blanket pallet on the floor he was now cleaning up. 

“How’s your head?”

You hadn’t noticed him noticing you, and again your embarrassment rose. 

“I’m fine,” You reassured, “Nothing some orange juice and Advil can’t fix.”

You moved your hand to hold your head and gave him a weak smile. It didn’t seem to convince him because he winced sympathetically, coming over to place his hands on your shoulders and guide you to the couch. Once he sat you down, he dashed off to the kitchen. 

“Peter, really, I’m fine. I can-”

“No,” Peter insisted, “I got it. Don’t worry about it. You just take it easy.”

When he returns with everything in hand and a grand smile on his face, you want to curl up in a ball and die. Peter spent all night dealing with and taking care of you. Surely he was more than fed up now. 

“Thanks,” You said, downing some painkillers and chasing it with orange juice, “I’ll go get dressed, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You’re welcome to shower and stay for some late breakfast. Me and my hair don’t mind.”

He’s flashing you that Peter Parker smile, and it makes your heart stutter. There’s no way he’s real. You’re so lucky to have a friend like him. 

“I would,” you say, “But I better talk to Harry. He didn’t hear from me much last night. I will take you up on that shower, though.”

Peter’s smile falters for the briefest moments, but then he patches it back up just as fast. You’re not entirely sure if you saw the fleeting change in emotions or if it was a trick from your hungover, over-analytical mind. 

“Yeah, let me get you a towel.”

When you step into the elevator, you feel like you might vomit for real this time. You’re feeling a little less hungover- the sunglasses Peter lent you helped a lot- but facing Harry is never fun. 

The doors open, announcing your presence with a chime. You only take one step before you hear your name called out from the living room. It sounds cracked, weakened by tears and lack of use. Your heart breaks at the sound, and you find yourself running to the source. 

Harry’s always been pale (you loved to tease him about being a nerd who never went outside), but he looked hollowed out; like all life had left him. Except for the skin around his eyes and nose. All of that was red and puffy. His hair was rustled wildly, and you didn’t know if it was from sleeping on the couch or from pulling at it, or both. His eyes shine in the light seeping in from under the shades, sombre seas crashing against the horizon. 

Before you can say anything, he leaps from the couch to wrap you in a hug. This was a surprise, to say the least. You and Harry didn’t hug much. You sometimes held each other when you kissed, but a hug- just a hug- was rare. You knew then that whatever you had prepared for when you came home, you weren’t prepared for this. 

“Oh, baby,” He muttered over your shoulder, “You’re back. Oh, thank god, you’re back.”

You rubbed circles on his back, trying to fight the tears now brimming in your eyes, “Yeah, baby, I came back.”

He pulls away, hands resting on your shoulders. His wet eyes meet yours, and you hold your breath. 

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You asked a very reasonable request, and I just flipped my shit. I’m sorry, baby.”

The words spilt from his mouth so quickly, and your heart constricted at the anguish hidden beneath them. You raised your hands to cradle his face, your thumbs rubbing circles over worn-down tear tracks. You left him, you abandoned him, and you knew how that would hurt him. You were now looking at a desperate child clinging to his father’s pant leg, begging him not to leave. You had done this to Harry, and the knowledge consumes you with grief. 

“It’s okay,” you comforted, “I said some mean things too.”

Harry closed his eyes, breathing you in and raising a hand to yours. He didn’t say anything to you, just nodding his head like he was absorbing your words. He was trying to convince himself that you were really there, that you were staying. You held each other like that for a while, silent moments only broken by sniffles and the occasional deep breath. 

Yeah, Harry could be an ass, but he could also be this. Vulnerable and apologetic, passionate about you. Harry could be a lot of things. 

And so could Peter. Right now, Peter felt like he was maybe the worst. As he stared into his bowl of frosted flakes, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. And Gwen. But the thoughts of Gwen were more so rude interruptions in his thoughts of you. And he felt bad about that too.

He couldn’t stop thinking of your smiling face, how you always looked so cute in his clothes, how you looked coming out of the shower with nothing but a towel on and your wet hair carrying the scent of his shampoo. He fantasised about cuddling with you on the couch again, but in this recreation of past events, there was no Harry or Gwen. Just the two of you sharing popcorn and laughing. He rewatched Monty Python the other day, and all he could think was: Has Heartbreaker seen this? She would love it. 

He knew that he had hurt Gwen, though he didn’t mean to. But that doesn’t really mean anything. She was still hurting, and it was all Peter’s fault. He had replayed their argument (Peter wasn’t sure if it was an argument, but he felt like maybe it was) in his head over and over again. 

You had both stumbled in the door, more than drunk. The whole way back, Peter was telling you to be quiet and careful, so as to not wake Gwen. But every time someone shushed the other, it was met with compounding giggles that weren’t as whispered as you two thought. Peter fought with the lock for a moment and almost fell in the doorway when it opened. And that’s when he realised there wasn’t an available bed for you and apologised. 

“You’re gonna have to sleep on the couch tonight. Is that okay?”

You agreed, and he sat you down while he left to get you a change of clothes and some bedding. He opened his bedroom door and saw Gwen passed out under the covers. She looked so comfortable there, and Peter didn’t want to wake her. However, his drunken mind and hands made the task very hard as he pulled open and shut several different dresser drawers. 

“Pete?”

He turns around, and in the dark room, he can make out the silhouette of his girlfriend sitting up in bed. 

“Hey, hon.”

The words slurred, and Gwen picked up on it immediately. She reached over to turn on the bedside lamp, flooding the room with a soft orange light. She saw Peter’s slightly dishevelled look and his slight sway and smirked at the man. 

“Have fun at the show?”

Peter nodded his head, telling her that you both got very drunk, and Gwen laughed, saying, “I can tell.”

Peter began telling her all about his night while undressing. Gwen missed out on the end of the concert because Peter got his head stuck in his shirt. She stood to help him and was rewarded with a drunkenly warm smile and a thank you. She wrapped her arms around him, and Peter reciprocated. Gwen placed her ear on his beating heart, smiling as she listened.

“Then, after the show, Led Head suggested we get drunk because we were out and we didn’t have class tomorrow. So we drank and drank, and now I’m drunk.” He rambled. “Drink, drank, drunk. What a fun string of words. I should ask if Led Head thinks it’s fun. No, wait. I need to change, bring her some clothes, and then ask about drink, drank, drunk.”

Gwen pulled away then, looking towards the open door, unsure if she would see anything there. 

“Wait, (Y/n)’s here?” She asked in a hushed whisper.

Peter matched her volume. “Yeah, I think she and Harry had another fight. I’m worried about her.”

“Yeah, of course.” Gwen agreed, also feeling worried for her friend. “She can have some of my sleep clothes; they should fit.”

She moved to the closet, but Peter stopped her, “I think she would be more comfor’ble in mine.”

Immediately, Gwen froze. She had been dating Peter since high school. Their wardrobes had melded fantastically over the years. It was hard for her to remember which hoodies and t-shirts were hers and which were his. And this happened because Peter is a little territorial. Not in any gross way, he just likes more subtle declarations of love. She remembers Peter once telling her how much he loved seeing her wear his shirts. 

But she pushed the thought away. Surely, this was not that. Peter was looking out for their friend. He just wanted her to be comfortable, and an oversized sweat shirt was definitely more comfortable that tight t-shirt. That’s all it was, nothing more. 

“Yeah,” she said, slowly turning back, “yeah, that’s…fine.”

Peter began rummaging again, and Gwen decided to help. She went to the bathroom and grabbed some Advil, then presented it to Peter. “For your guys’ head in the morning.”

Peter placed it on the bundle of clothes in his arms and kissed the top of her head, “Thanks, goodnight.”

She watches as he walks away, then finally finds her voice. “Are you not coming back to bed?”

Peter stops in the doorway, turning to her, almost confused. 

“I’m gonna sleep in the living room with Heartbreaker.”

Gwen’s stomach twists, and she’s finding it harder and harder to not let her anxieties take over. “She’s a big girl. I’m sure she can handle a night alone on the couch.”

Peter shook his head adamantly, a frown falling over his drunken features. “I don’t want her to be alone.”

“So what? You’re just gonna sleep on the floor?” Peter shrugged, and Gwen wasn’t sure what the feeling was, but it was in her gut, and it was screaming at the idea. “She can just sleep in here with me then. You can take the couch, and then no one’s sleeping on the floor.”

“No, no, no,” Peter whispered back almost desperately. “She needs to be with me.”

Gwen’s stomach fell. 

“She needs to be with you?” She repeats, anger seeping into the syllables. 

He dropped his head in his hands and shook it, dropping the clothes to the floor with a soft thud. 

“No! No,” He slurs. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Gwen can feel the tears building and her heart breaking. 

“I meant that she…She’s not happy. And Her and Harry aren’t happy.” 

Peter was much too drunk at the time to notice the way Gwen’s body tensed as he spoke. 

“And they got into a fight, and my Led Head needs to crash here. And you shouldn’t have to take care of her. I’ll take care of her. I’ll do it- I’ll make sure she’s okay.” 

Gwen is a very intelligent and capable woman. While she excels in a laboratory, she's good with a pen too. And she couldn’t ignore what she had heard. While innocent enough, she knew Peter and the weight his words carried. 

I’ll take care of her.

I’ll do it

I’ll make sure she’s okay.

Practically begging to take care of her. 

My led head

The long-used nickname now changed. It was now possessive. His Led Head. Not their mutual friend, but more. 

But the nail in the coffin, the words she couldn’t stop hearing since he said them:

She needs to be with me.

Peter was too drunk to understand her silence or the sudden glass in her eye. He just thought he’s made his girlfriend sad, so he placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss on her cheek. 

“I’m sorry, baby. You go to bed, and I’ll take care of everything.”

Gwen stared at Peter almost bewildered before she shook her head sadly and climbed back into bed. Peter watched as she clicked the lamp and curled over, not giving him a single glance. Peter looked down at the pile of clothes he had, checking that you had everything, then closed the door behind him. 

And now Gwen’s broken spirit haunted him this morning. She left without saying goodbye and hasn’t responded to the three texts he did send. He went to bed last night feeling on top of the world and woke up to find himself in the dog house. 

His cereal was soggy now, the flakes falling apart in the bowl. He stood to dump it in the sink, being sure to rinse it and load it in the dishwasher because Gwen hates dishes left in the sink. When he stood back up, he saw a photo framed on the wall. It was Him and Gwen in high school, their faces younger and bright with new love. When did that change?

Before he could get more lost in the thought, he heard the front door open, then slam. Gwen dropped her bag, then dropped her jacket on the back of the couch. Peter looked at her, stunned. 

“We need to talk.”

Life with Harry had been better. You had seen a change in his demeanour. It was especially clear that he was trying to make you happy again. He complimented you often and told you he loved you. He showered you in sweet kisses and loving touches. He sat and talked with you after work. He even took you out on a date just yesterday. 

You had to shop for a dress for the “Stem Cell Celebration” (that’s what Oscorp decided to call the event), and Harry knew that wasn’t your favourite thing, so he told you to pick out a lovely dress for dinner that night as well. Your life felt magical again; you felt in love again. 

Now you were in the back of the car, tapping your well-manicured fingers on your phone. Harry could see your screen from where you draped yourself over him, and he could see the furrow in your brow as you stared at the device. 

“Don’t worry, babe.” He said, squeezing your arm gently. “I’m sure they’re both coming. We’re celebrating Gwen as well tonight. They're probably just busy trying to get there.”

You turned off the screen, then turned to Harry, tucking it away in you’re clutch. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

You leaned in to kiss his cheek, and Harry broke into a bright smile with a touch of a teasing smirk. 

“Oh, you will be.”

He kissed you deeply, and soon your worries melted away. You forgot all about Peter and Gwen when you felt his hands skate across the exposed leg in your gown. Life was good. 

Once you got to the event, you linked arms with Harry. He guided you up the stairs and through the long hallways until you reached the lavish ballroom. You were thankful the decor wasn’t themed as you wondered what a stem cell research party would look like. However, you had to stop your theoretical party planning when an old man approached with a woman not much older than you on his arm. It was time to play the role of “dutiful girlfriend with no desirable brains” again. 

As the minutes ticked away, you itched to dig your phone out of its imprisonment. It felt like it was buzzing every other second, but every time you checked it, there were no new responses from Peter or Gwen. You tried to keep yourself from scanning the crowds, to pay attention to the people talking to you, but they were boring, and you were anxious for your friends to arrive. 

Hours pass, and you still don’t see them. You start to wonder if they bailed, not wanting to come at all. You knew Peter used to attend these events once upon a time, and he was never too fond of them. It’s possible that in Gwen’s many years at Oscorp, she had been to a few as well. You couldn’t blame either of them for not wanting to show. 

But at least you had Harry, who promised not to abandon you tonight. 

“Well, great work Harrold!” the seventeenth slimy geezer says, “I swear you’re just like your father. You’re gonna do great things, I tell ya. Great things!”

Harry politely thanked the man as he wandered off to talk to someone else, then turned to you. He groans, letting his head drop to your shoulder. 

“How is it that I helped crack the genetic code to regrow limbs, and I still haven’t done ‘great things’?”

You rub your boyfriend’s back, humming sympathetically, “I’m sorry, Hare.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” He whispers, taking a few more moments of reprieve, then stands straight and plasters a smile on his face. “So, you hear from anyone yet?”

You check once again and frown, “No, nothing yet.”

Harry sighs, “They’ll come. Gwen and I were talking about it today at work. They’ll be here.”

It made you feel a little better knowing you weren’t the only one disappointed by your friends’ lack of attendance. 

“I’m sure they will.” You weren’t sure who you were comforting.

Another hour passes before you see Harry light up. He catches something out of the corner of his eye and begins dragging you through the crowd, saying, “Come on, come on!” He was excited, and you liked that look on him. You kept scanning the room between your apologies to partygoers you accidentally bumped into, but then you saw why Harry was rushing. 

A mop of curly chestnut hair. A long, lanky frame hidden under a suit jacket. A blonde with her hair tied up, still pushed out of her face by her signature headband. 

Peter and Gwen had arrived. 

But you saw something you’re sure Harry didn’t. Their faces. Both looked very uncomfortable and maybe a little angry. You felt hesitant as you steam-ploughed your way through the crowd to greet them, but Harry wasn’t gonna stop. And if he did notice, he was going to ask what was wrong, regardless. No force on Earth could stop Harry once he made his mind up about something. 

Finally, they noticed you guys as well. You saw them speak among themselves with much less love behind their words than you were used to seeing, but they straightened up and put on a brave face before you could hear what they were saying. 

“Peter and Gwen!” Harry cheered, throwing his arms up, then bringing them to his friends’ shoulders. “The world’s second favourite couple and favourite best friend duo!” 

You noticed the way Peter’s lips twitched at the “title” and how Gwen’s face nearly fell. You couldn’t imagine Harry’s “second favourite” joke actually upset them. He’s made it all the time since you two started dating, and it was usually used as an invitation to begin teasing Harry. So you assumed it was his boisterous energy that must cause them pause. 

He brings them into a crushing hug, and you do your best to guide him away with a gentle hand on his back. He follows easily, reattaching himself to you like you were home base. Your heart swelled a little at the idea but thought it odd how they both looked away. 

“Hey guys!” you try, “Glad you could make it.”

Peter gives you a strained smile, like the one he gives you when you ask him how he thinks he did on a test he didn’t study for or if he remembered the group plans you guys made. 

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

You try to meet Gwen’s eyes, but she actively looks away. You try not to let anyone see how that hurt your feelings while she scans the crowd. 

“Hey, Harry,” She asks, “Have you seen Ahana from research yet? She said she was bringing her partner, and I’d love to meet them.”

Harry told her he hadn’t yet, looking around the room before offering to walk them around to find her. Gwen declined the offer, saying she needed to make her rounds anyway. 

“We’ll catch up to you guys later.”

She still hadn’t looked at you, and you couldn’t help but feel you must have done something wrong because every time Peter looked at you, he seemed troubled.

 

Tag List: @actuallypeterparker, @athenxt, @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy, @cherriescherriesred25, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblrr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

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[rancidpancakebatter]

Another Way to Fly-[P.P.] | Chapter Four

Pairing: TASM!college!Peter Parker x female!college!reader

Summary: You've been dating Harry Osborne for three years. You love him...but maybe not as much as you once did. Maybe not enough.

AU Where Norman isn’t as sick- he’s just an asshole- and Gwen didn't go to Oxford. Harry is functioning as an apprentice at Oscorp (He graduated with a master's in two years because of his studying abroad). You, Peter, and Gwen are all seniors at ESU. Because Peter isn't Spider-Man and Norman isn’t dying, the whole “Goblin” thing is scratched from the record, so Peter and Harry are besties.

Prompt: Based on an ask for my 200 Follower celebration

Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: Swearing, Implications of sex, marajuana use

Previous | Chapter List | Next

A/N: thank you guys for all the love on this series. It really means the world to me <3

On the car ride home, all you dreamed about was curling up on the couch with Harry to watch a movie. You felt tired and stressed, and you just wanted to unwind with your partner.

The car eventually came to a stop, and the driver opened Harry’s door, who then reached out his hand to you. He continued to hold your hand as you walked through the lobby entrance and waved to Paddy. Harry led you through the lobby and into the elevator, where he placed a gentle kiss on your temple, once behind closed doors. You melted into his arms, feeling safe and loved there. 

When the doors opened, you untied your shoes, toeing them off. You felt Harry’s hands on your shoulder as he moved to remove your jacket, like he always did in the rare instances you were wearing one. But then his hands stop, only pulling it off your back a few inches. 

“You didn’t leave with this on, did you?”

“Oh, it’s Peter’s. I spilt some coffee on myself, and he let me borrow it.” 

You frown as the words come out of your mouth. There was no reason to lie about why you had Peter’s jacket- and it wasn’t a complete lie- but it’s not like you could correct it now. You said it for whatever reason, and now you felt even grosser. 

“That was nice of him,” Harry says with a warm smile. One that twists your stomach, with the trust and pride oozing from his teeth. 

Harry was always proud to be friends with Peter. He looked up to him in a lot of ways. Growing up and around the one per cent, Harry had met a lot of men who would easily commit horrors against women and never lose an ounce of sleep over it. He worried about you in his world, but he liked to think he surrounded himself with good people, like Peter Parker. Someone who you could hang out with and be safe. Someone who took care of you when Harry wasn’t there to do it. Someone he trusted. 

“Yeah,” You say as you watch him hang the jacket up, “it was.”

You already miss the warm cotton you were surrounded in. You miss the comfort the jacket brought you. But you push away the thought, convincing yourself you only missed the jacket, and not Peter. 

A few hours later, you're curled up with Harry watching Finding Nemo. You have a list of movies that were staples in your childhood, but Harry hadn’t seen a lot of them. He was robbed of his youth, and you liked to work your way down them so Harry could have some of these experiences at least.

Marlin is scooped up in the pelican’s mouth, and Harry laughs beside you. But you can’t even focus on that. Your mind is, instead, thinking about how you’re gonna break the news to Peter that you won’t be in attendance at May’s Dinner- all because of another stupid gala. You want to ask if you have to go at all, but you already know the answer. Even if it’s the weekend before finals- even when it collides with life events- you know you have to go. 

You decide a text would be sufficient, lessen to blow. That way, you don’t have to see his puppy dog eyes and broken heart. 

To Peter: Hey! I’m so sorry, Harry and I have a fundraiser gala next week. We can’t make it to the dinner :((

You tuck your phone away so you don’t have to see his upset response. You don’t want him to try and convince you to go because you want to more than anything, and it would just break your heart to refuse him. 

What you don’t expect is for your intercom to go off fifteen minutes later. The buzz echoes around the space, bouncing off of each hard surface and startling you. Harry chuckles when you jump, and you swat his arm. 

“Mr Osborne,” Paddy’s warped voice says through the crackling speaker, “There is a Peter Parker here to see you. Shall I send him up?”

Harry looks to you for an explanation, but you have none. He shrugs before telling Paddy that’s fine. When the elevator doors open, Peter marches through with purpose. 

“Harry!” He blindly calls out to your boyfriend, not seeing you both peaking over the back of the couch. “Where you at, ya butt muncher?”

This was a common bit between them. They often would pretend to be very upset with each other for no reason, exchanging harmless playground insults between them. 

Harry’s face lit up when he saw his friend, and you thought it was adorable as he stood up on the couch cushions, almost falling over. “I’m right here, you tit!”

Peter whipped his head around, his smile grand as he laid his eyes on his best friend. He set his backpack on the floor and marched over to Harry, finger out and pointed at his friend’s face. It was quite comical to see. Peter is usually one of the tallest in the room, but to see Harry towering over him and Peter craning his neck upward to address him was amusing. 

“Get down from there this instance!” Peter scolded, “And join me on the balcony, so we can split a joint.” 

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up, not expecting the proposal. Harry didn’t smoke often; he preferred a good bourbon or whiskey to wind down. He looked down at you, silently asking if you were okay with this. You shrugged, saying you would make some snacks for when they came back. Peter thanked you, then extended his hand out to his friend. Once Harry grabbed it, he yanked him towards him, and Harry nearly toppled over as he tried to vault over the back of the couch. They giggled as they made their way outside.

You start on sandwiches and can’t help but chuckle at the pair outside, especially when you catch Peter’s eye- he sends you a wink. Harry is holding the joint like an old friend, smoke spilling from his mouth as he speaks to Peter. After about 10 minutes, the boys come back inside. Harry is leading, his shoulders sagging and his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry, Parker. There’s nothing I can do.”

Peter’s eyes are glassy, and his eyelids droop. 

“Oh, come on, Hare Bear, surely you can do something,” He tries as he strolls in behind his friend. “Maybe you would be okay with going solo?”

Harry plops dramatically on the couch, spreading a leg and arm over the back. “Well, that wouldn’t make much sense. Gwen can’t make her dinner party either, so it would just be you and (Y/n). Can’t we move the dinner?”

Peter seems to think it over, then flops down next to Harry. You think it’s funny how sometimes straight men are the gayest people out there. (Although Peter told you a few weeks ago that he may be bi, but that’s a different thing entirely.) They lay long ways on the couch, chest to chest, sharing each other’s air. And this is a very typical way to have a conversation with your good buddy. You snap a sneaky picture and send it to Gwen, knowing she’d get a kick out of it too. 

“I guess it makes the most sense that Gwen’s there to celebrate Gwen.” Peter says very slowly, like he’s thinking through each word. “I’ll ask May if we can move it.”

They’ve seemed to reach a resolution, so you decide now is the time to reannounce your presence.

“I’ve got your sandwiches!” You call from the kitchen and burst out in laughter as they try to untangle themselves and trip over the couch to get to the kitchen as quickly as possible, like a bit in The Three Stooges. You half expect to hear the sound effects as they knock things over and trip over their feet.

As you eat, Peter and Harry catch up for a bit. Peter, of course, tells Harry that they wouldn’t miss each other so much if he wasn’t always at work. They go back and forth for a bit, tip-toeing around any real anger. Some arms are slugged, but mostly laughter is swapped between them.

Peter suggests you guys watch a horror movie, and you think it’s a wonderful idea. Especially when he says he’s “got more grass to pass around.”

You feel great right now. Your body is softly buzzing, and your brain feels lighter. There’s a slasher on the tv, and you’re too mellow to even flinch. You’re leaned against Harry’s side as he plays with your hair, and your legs are stretched out over Peter’s lap as his hands skate across your tights. You didn’t change out of your outfit from before, but now you felt comfortable. You felt like nothing could bother you. Not even Harry passing out early when he promised he wouldn’t.

You only notice when he starts snoring softly above you. His head is resting on the back of the couch in a way that will definitely make itself known in the morning when he complains about the crick in his neck. His blond hair is fanned across his forehead, and his lips are parted. Peter chuckles beside you, noticing Harry about the same time you did.

He was mesmerised by the glow of the tv illuminating your face, how the shadows dance across your cheekbones, but then you turned your head away, and he followed your gaze to his best friend. 

You laugh as well, “He owes us fifty bucks.”

Peter leans forward, over your legs to grab his phone from the table. He checks the time and beams. 

“Hell yeah, he does. He said he wouldn’t crash before nine.” He shows you the time on his lock screen. “It’s barely eight thirty.”

“What a loser,” you joke. 

You sit up carefully, so as to not disturb him and climb out from under the blanket you share. You readjust it so that he’s covered and comfortable. You try to give him some space, knowing he’s not the biggest on cuddling, and that brings you closer to Peter. Peter who lifts his blanket up without even thinking, scooting over to make room for you as if it was second nature. Maybe first. 

You don’t hesitate to take him up on his offer, enthusiastically scooching over to tuck yourself into his side. Peter throws the blanket around you, then moves his arm to rest on the back of the couch, so you can get closer. 

“Weed always makes me so cuddly,” You comment as you curl yourself up, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist.

Peter brings his other arm around to give you a tight squeeze, “Me too.”

Texas Chainsaw Massacre is still playing on the tv; you watch the rest of the film from the comfort of Peter’s arms. When the movie finally ends and the credits roll, neither of you moves to turn it off. You look at the table, littered with Chinese takeout ordered earlier and decide that was a problem for the morning. You were much too tired to clean. Peter’s heartbeat was dancing in your ears, and the melody was soothing. He’s comfy and warm. He smells great. Curling up with Peter is like the comfort of his jacket, but better. But it was getting late, and you knew you would have to leave your hovel soon. 

“You’re welcome to spend the night,” You whisper, “If you want.”

“Thanks,” Peter whispers back, “I think I will.”

“The guest bed is already made up, you're welcome to sleep there. Unless…”

You didn’t miss the way his heart rate accelerated at your cliffhanger.

“Unless, what?” Peter whispers. 

“Unless,” You say, walking your fingers across his chest, “you wanna hop in bed with me and Harry.”

Peter swats your hand, and you choke on your laughter. In the low light, you can see the red spreading across his face, but he laughs too. Enough that you move with the rise and fall of his chest. 

“Well, it’s not every day that you get invited to a threesome with your besties,” He jokes, “but I think I’ll have to decline this time.”

He pats your back, signalling to you that he’s going to get up now. You begrudgingly pull yourself away so he can stand. 

“There’s gonna be a next time?” You ask with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. Peter reaches over to smack you with a pillow from the couch.

“There better be.” He warns.

Your laughter isn’t as quiet now, unable to keep it from rising as you joke around with Peter. Harry stirs, and you remember you have to go to bed too. And bring him with you.

“Such a lame-ass,” Peter jokes, following your gaze once again.

“That he is,” you chuckle, “but he’s a lame-ass who needs to make it up to his bed.”

You pull your eyes away from your sleeping boyfriend and see Peter still standing in front of you. He towers over you, and there’s a soft smile on his face. You feel your own cheeks warm at the affectionate gaze.

“Do you want help?” He asks sincerely.

You shake your head, waving your hand around, “Nah, it’s fine. I can handle ‘im.”

“Alright then,” Peter leans down and kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, Heartbreaker.”

He turns to the staircase, slowly disappearing into the shadows the light can’t reach. You feel sad, watching him walk away, and can only tear your gaze away when you hear the bedroom door close. You sigh, knowing you have to get up. There was nothing keeping you on this couch. Certainly, not the childish hope that Peter would come back down- that he would change his mind and lay down with you again.

You turned, poking Harry’s cheek. “Hare, come on, get up.”

He wipes groggily at his face, his head finally lifted, and his eyes nearly closed. “What time is it?”

“Late,” You reply.

Harry groans again before finally standing. “I’m sorry, babe. I know you wanted to hang out.”

You reach for his hand, offering comfort. “It’s okay, Hon. I know you work a lot. You had a big day today; you must be exhausted.”

“Thanks, babe.” He stretches, then looks around. “Where’s Ole Pete?”

You tell him he’s crashing upstairs, and Harry says, “Good,” through a yawn. “I don’t want him on the train this late by himself.”

You chuckle, standing to grab Harry’s hands and kiss him on the cheek, “You’re such a sweet boyfriend.” 

“Thanks,” Harry smiles down at you, his thin lips tugged up at the corners despite his woolly-headedness, “I’m glad you think so.”

The next morning, you rise with Harry, though you get to skip the grooming routine on account of not having to go out today. Instead, you head downstairs to make breakfast. Harry, surprising no one, took his father’s “advice” and started eating healthier. He usually had a smoothie or a yoghurt bowl for breakfast now. But today, since you had the time to spare, you decided you would make something a little nicer for you and Peter. 

When whipping some eggs, you got distracted by a loud yawn that sounded a lot like a shout, a loud declaration of hate for the mornings. You knew who it was before looking. 

“Good morning, Pete,” You sang. 

“Mornin’.” You heard him grumble over the sound of heavy feet dragging down the hall. “Your stupid blender woke me up.”

As he collapses on the island, you fix him a glass of orange juice, lightly smacking his head so he would raise it from his folded arms. You place it in front of him- a warm smile on your face. 

“Sorry, bub, here’s some juice. It’s freshly squeezed, and the french toast will be done soon.”

Peter perks a bit, “You’re making me breakfast? And freshly juiced juice?”

“Of course.” You say as if that were a completely average thing. Like it wasn’t one of the kindest gestures Peter’s been offered. As if your food isn’t always incredible. As if you don’t pour your heart and soul into everything you make. 

His voice is heavy with what you perceive as sleep, “Thank you.”

The morning is peaceful. Down below, the city drummed on as you hummed along to a song that only your heart knew. The quiet sizzle of egg frying in the pan joined in with adjoining harmony. The sweet melody flitted through the air. 

Then a door creaking shut, and light steps on the stairs. Your body moves faster than your brain, your spine straightens, and your shoulders roll back. Your voice stops, and your hips no longer sway to the music made. 

 “It smells amazing in here! Whatcha making, babe?”

Peter watched the change and wasn’t sure what to make of it. Your smile remained and grew as you greeted your boyfriend. You seemed happy. But stiff. 

“I’m making French toast,” You chirp. 

He slides in behind you to wrap his arms around you, while you stand at the stove. For some reason, it doesn’t sit right with Peter. But it should. Because you lean into his touch, kiss his cheek, and call him a sweet pet name. And it’s then that Peter realises there’s an odd painting on the wall that he’s never truly appreciated, but then he remembers his phone is a lot more entertaining. 

“It looks great,” Harry compliments, “but I think I’ll have to scrounge around for something else.”

You don’t notice, lost in Harry’s tender embrace, but Peter rolls his eyes. 

“Well, lucky for you,” you say with a smug-ish tone, breaking away from him to grab something from the fridge, “I already made your smoothie.”

Harry beams at you, and you tap your cheek. He chuckles at your antics and pays his “tax”

“I love you,” He says against your cheek, then turns to Peter, “You too.”

Peter throws an orange peel across the room that he found on the counter, and Harry laughs as he dodges it, then takes a seat next to his friend. 

“Mornin’ Pete!”

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Great,” Harry says between slurps, “What time did I crash?”

“Pay up o’clock,” Peter says, not missing a beat.

“That early, huh?”

“Yep.” Peter says, popping the “p”, “about eight thirtyish.” 

The conversation is paused as you serve Peter his plate, pushing little bowls of topping towards him to enjoy and Harry digs around for his wallet. He slides a fifty across the counter, shaking his head. 

“Weed always makes me pass out.” he sighs, clapping Peter on the upper back, then stands. “I’ve gotta go if I don’t wanna be late. I’m sorry. I know you wanted to hang out.”

Peter stands as well, opening his arms to hug his friend. Harry immediately takes him up on the offer. 

“It’s all good man, I get it.”

Harry smiles, pulling away to fix his suit jacket, “Alright, well, you’re welcome to stay- hang out with (Y/n).” He goes to call the elevator, and as he steps into the door, he points at Peter, gathering his full attention, “I’ll see you for the Dinner.”

You both wish him goodbye as he disappears behind the closing doors. When you hear the gears begin to whirl, you look to Peter, who was already looking at you.

“Do you have any plans today?” 

“Nothing much.” You shrug, taking Harry’s seat. “I need to study for finals, but I’ve got nothing else going on.”

Peter slides his phone towards you, with an Instagram post pulled up. 

“Dog Water’s doing a show in Harlem tonight.” He says. “They just posted this- And look!”

You follow his fingers as he zooms in, “They’re not even announced on the posters. Totally a last-minute, ‘yeah, we’ll do it’, show. Do you wanna go?”

You tell him it’s a great idea and start figuring out the schematics of the plan as you eat your breakfast. You don’t notice the little happy dance you do after your first bite, your fork pointed in the air, your head bobbing side to side as you chew. The brightness in your eyes as you try to figure out what you wanna wear, and the glow in your cheeks as you decide when you should stop studying to get ready on time. It’s adorable, really.

There’s hair falling in your face, and Peter wants to brush it away, but nothing is worth disturbing the sight in front of him. The morning sun comes in from the floor-to-ceiling windows and bathes you in angelic light that makes Peter’s heart flip; then sink. He tears his gaze away, suddenly not hungry anymore. 

He announces that he’s finished, and you rise from your half-eaten meal to clean his plate before he stops you. “I can do it; you’re still eating.”

You didn’t notice before, but Peter wasn’t in pyjamas, just the T-shirt from the night before and his green and blue, plaid boxers. Your heart warmed at the thought that he felt so comfortable here that he could do dishes in his boxers and not bat an eye. You took in his form as he stood at the sink, the way his arms flexed as he scrubbed. When he turned around, arms holding him up as he leaned against the counter, your eyes trailed down- noting where his clothing hung and hugged.

“I’m gonna go, I got some stuff to do, and I don’t want to interrupt your studying.”

He goes upstairs to change, then returns downstairs. You give him a big hug before he leaves, soaking in whatever it is that makes Peter’s hugs the best, knowing you wouldn't get another for at least ten hours.

“Pick you up at eight?” He asks, his chin moving against your skull.

“Hmm,” you hum, “7:30 gives us time to eat.”

Peter rubs circles on your back, and you try your best not to melt more, but then he pulls away before you can. He doesn’t go far, manoeuvring more into a side hug with his arm still around your waist as he calls the elevator. 

“You’re so right,” The doors open and he beams at you, “See you later, Heartbreaker.”

He bends down and places a kiss on the crown of your head. You freeze with a smile on your face as you watch Peter disappear behind the same doors Harry did. 

You felt…weird. Or like you were acting weird. Your heart bangs in your chest and your lungs struggle to work around it. 

It’s not weird that he did that. He’s done it before, like once. You were both really drunk and giggling at the gag gift you got Peter. It was a pair of novelty socks. They were blue and white, with an image of Santa Claus holding a manora. He kissed your forehead very dramatically, showing his appreciation. 

He’s never done it so casually. But casual affection was not uncommon amongst your friends. You all hugged, held hands, and dogpiled on the couch. Harry kisses Gwen’s cheek in greeting. And it’s not weird because you’ve kissed Gwen’s cheek too, and Peter’s cheek. And Peter kissed your cheek last night, when you were too tired to make it a big deal. Which it isn’t, and it’s not weird that your heart does a little flip in your chest when you realise you can still feel where his lips touched you.

Tag List: @actuallypeterparker, @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy @cherriescherriesred25, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @princesskittycatofmeowland, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

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[esuemmanuel]

De repente me he sentido triste, ¿es mía esta tristeza o la he tomado prestada de alguien más? No lo sé, ya no sé nada... sólo siento en mi garganta un ardor que mata, una a una, a mis palabras, ésas que se deshacen al roce de mi saliva al tragar. Dios, arde el alma y la voz que no sale... arde el agua que derramo al llamarte, ¿en dónde dejé el cielo que me hacía palpar las estrellas?, ¿en qué mar abandoné la barca de mi corazón?, ¿por qué siento que no siento y, al mismo tiempo, me duele y me lamento por lo que creo que perdí? Dios, ¿a dónde me fui?, ¿en qué hoja me perdí?, ¿qué letras fueron las últimas que con amor escribí? Me extraño, y no estoy aquí, camino y vago, mas no me tengo... ¿en qué abismo caí? Dios, si tú no me escuchas, ¿quién lo hará? Hoy sólo me acompañan las sombras de mi oscuridad, y son ellas, sólo ellas, las que me vienen a abrazar, las que me besan las manos y me arrancan las ganas de soñar.

— Esu Emmanuel©️, I have suddenly felt sad, is this sadness mine or have I borrowed it from someone else? I don't know, I don't know anything anymore... I just feel in my throat a burning that kills, one by one, my words, those that melt at the touch of my saliva when swallowing. God, the soul burns and the voice that does not come out... the water that I spill when I call you burns, where did I leave the sky that made me feel the stars? In what sea did I abandon the boat of my heart? Why do I feel that I don't feel and, at the same time, it hurts and I regret what I think I lost? God, where did I go? On what page did I get lost? What letters were the last that I wrote with love? I miss myself, and I'm not here, I walk and I wander, but I don't have me... I fell into what abyss? God, if you don't listen to me, who will? Today only the shadows of my darkness accompany me, and it is they, only they, the ones who come to hug me, the ones who kiss my hands and make me want to dream.

#escribiendo en soledad #el hombre de la soledad #escritores en tumblr #pensamientos #writers on tumblr #writing in solitude #the man of solitude #poetas en tumblr #un escritor dice #tristeza #mi oscuridad #2020 #noche de pensamientos #lonely nights #proyecto azul

[esuemmanuel]

El Pasado de Samael (Epílogo).

I.

Frialdad, sigues congelándome el corazón. Eructo trozos de hielo, Cristal. Sentir la quemazón del hielo en el pecho. Arder con los trozos de escarcha… ¿Qué me pasa? Temblando, trato de darme calor en las manos; vapor cristalino. Aún late el corazón, lento… muy lento… casi yerto… muerto. No hay hoguera que derrita lo que se ha templado en el desencanto de la decepción, la que nace de una realidad recluida en una fantasía absurda y no se puede volver a lo que se era. No se puede regresar, ya no el tiempo, si no la experiencia. Y, aunque se intente borrar lo acontecido, ahí está presente, ardiendo en ojos de ira… de acoso… de señalamiento.

II.

He creído que he dudado del amor. No ha sido así. He dudado de lo que he creído ha sido amor. Se me ha juzgado por amar como amo. No importa, seguiré amando igual… En libertad. Para mí, las fantasías siguen estando en mis manos. Soy hacedor de mundos. Y, cuando quiera, los destruyo. Tengo el poder en mis manos, en mi mente. Soy mi viajero y mi viaje. Yo no invito. Si has de querer acompañarme en el vuelo, hazlo. Al fin de cuentas, los sentimientos son de quien los siente.

III.

El hielo puede evaporarse. Ya no quiero más hielo en el corazón… Quema. Cambio como el segundero de un reloj de arena. Lento, pero seguro. Navego según la marea.

The Past of Samael (Epilogue).

I.

Coldness, you keep freezing my heart. I belch chunks of ice, Crystal. Feel the burning of the ice in my chest. Burning with chunks of frost... What's wrong with me? Shivering, I try to warm my hands; crystalline steam. Still the heart beats, slow... very slow... almost barren... dead. There is no bonfire to melt what has been tempered in the disenchantment of disappointment, that which is born of a reality confined in an absurd fantasy and you can't go back to what you were. You can't go back, not the time, but the experience. And, even if one tries to erase what has happened, it is there, burning in the eyes of anger... of harassment... of pointing fingers.

II.

I thought I doubted love. I have not. I have doubted what I thought was love. I have been judged for loving as I love. It doesn't matter, I'll go on loving the same way... In freedom. For me, fantasies are still in my hands. I am a maker of worlds. And, when I want to, I destroy them. I have the power in my hands, in my mind. I am my traveller and my journey. I do not invite. If you want to join me on the flight, do so. After all, feelings belong to those who feel them.

III.

Ice can evaporate. I don't want any more ice in my heart... It burns. It changes like the second hand of an hourglass. Slow, but sure. I sail according to the tide.

— Esu Emmanuel©

#Esu Emmanuel #Epístolas de Samael #relato #escritores en tumblr #escritores en español #proyecto azul #poetas en tumblr #the man of solitude #el hombre de la soledad #escribiendo en soledad #writing in solitude #poets on tumblr