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witchlyboo · 3 years

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part four: The one who loved you first.

Introduction. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 5.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Implied smut and mention of +18 content, angst??? language, misspellings, and me learning how to write properly. Spanish words, is that a warning?

Word count: 7k

a/n: All body type and skin tone friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. I'm a slow writer, what can I say? but I hate short chapters so you can take your time to read this and it'd be like different parts (?) all constructive feedback and misspellings correction is welcome as always. Thanks to everyone that pushes me to keep writing through messages and posts, this is especially for you.

“I don’t think you mentioned my dad yet.” Evan says jumping happily holding your hand. You told him not to bring it up outside the apartment but he’s too excited of hearing about your life and since he looks so happy, you let him win, you always do.

“What makes you think that?”

“It's not Logan because you never stay with your first love, everyone knows that. Ben isn’t like dad, he’s too... I don’t know, he sounds stupid.”You laugh and nod unwittingly, happy that you described the story well enough for your son to catch the essence of the characters.I don’t like Timothée and I don’t know much about Tom. I think you’re keeping him to the last moment to confuse me.”

“I’m not saying anything but people change, I changed, and the person your father was, is not who he is today. You have to be cautious with the details, young Padawan.” You argue caressing his hair softly.

“None of them sound like dad, I don't want them to be him.” He sounds sad for a brief moment, but get distracted by the sound of a dog so you don't worry that much.

“Have a child rocks your entire world, I used to be awake all night, drink a lot, I didn’t like kids, hung out with dangerous people, and I didn’t care for anything that wasn’t me” You start enlisting, not mentioning certain substances you don’t consume anymore... Except for special occasions. “The moment I got you in my arms I became better, and the only thing I cared about was you and I'm sure daddy feels the same.”

“I think you try to distract me because I found out your plan.” You groan audibly but don’t say anything else, he’s too smart for your own good and any other clue might be too revealing. “You kiss Timothée, Ben is outside the town, what happened with Tom?” You sigh not being sure if you are ready for all the stress that comes with this part of the story.

“Tom is one of those things that have to get worse before getting better.” Bad, terrible, horrible, devastating but better. Eventually.

Timothée’s hands slowly go up to your thighs until he finds the border of your underwear. Are you wearing nice panties? Omg, you wish you are, you remember having just two pairs of clean underwear, the black, small, thin fabric that’s not particularly nice but is ok to set the mood on and a white high rise brief with red hearts that you bought as a joke because you thought they looked like the ones the cartoons have, but you wore them and now you love how comfortable they are, that’s why you keep them for those days you feel especially emotional or when the perfectly normal ones are waiting to be washed. Like today, fuck.

“Wait!” You break the kiss and stop his cold hands under your skirt. He's always cold, chilly thin fingers that caress your skin like a cold shower on a summer day, you like it, something in the way you shiver every time he touches you is mystical. He looks at you with confused and urged olive eyes so adorable that you can't help but smile.

“What?” He says squeezing your thighs and giving you small kisses all around your jaw and blurring your mind in the process. You haven't slept together, yet, these daily twenty minutes make-out seasons are all you have of your frozen fantasy only existent in his trailer and nowhere else. A snow globe experience.

“I think we should stop.” You murmur leaning back a little to make him stop kissing you and to watch him, you're sitting astride over his legs on his makeup chair, you started doing his hair but something in between got you distracted and know he is half-dressed and half well... that'll take more than the five minutes you have before the call.

He stops his movements and straightens his back, you feel his grip on your legs ease off. “What’s wrong?” He asks taking his hands out of your skirt and hugging your waist. You know your request is confusing after you’ve been making out for the last twenty minutes, you locked the trailer’s door and unzipped his jeans but the idea of him seeing your ridiculously comfortable underwear is just unacceptable for the safety of your self-esteem.

“Nothing, is just that this trailer isn’t romantic at all.” That would have been a good excuse if this were the first time you get this intimate, but it’s not.

“You humped my leg on this exact chair two days ago and now this trailer isn’t romantic enough?” He asks with a mocked face and you just blush like an idiot. Since the first kiss you had everything changed completely, you passed from hating every cell of his existence to jump into his arms at every opportunity, touching, caressing, biting, and yes humping, all slowly increasing for the last days before shooting and college. You’re not proud of the way things came up but maldita sea, his lips are so damn good and there’s a gentleness on his movements that fix some of the scars of your dented spirit. “It’s ok if you don’t want to do it but don’t lie to me.” Another thing you discovered about Tim is his habit to take everything extremely personal and due to his background, you’re not surprised. He starts fixing his clothes and you find yourself stopping his movements with your hands, no one could tell since you don’t have a bulge to announce how much you want him as he does but you do.

“I don’t want you to see my... calzón” The word ‘panties’ doesn’t sound appropriate to that monstrosity.

“Your what?” He asks scratching in his poor Spanish until something connects, he couldn’t help but burst into laughs when he remembers the meaning. “Underwear? Now I MUST see it.” He tries to raise your skirt fighting with your hands not really pushing them away, just playing.

“I bought it because I thought it was funny, is not what I usually use, I swear, your head would explode just to see me in my regular undies.” You're obviously joking but something deep inside of you wants to believe it.

“Then, since is my first time I'm relieved that you're not using them” He carries you from his lap and sits you on the makeup table in front “May I?” He asks with his hands on your thighs, begging with his eyes for your permission to disturb your dignity, and you agree, obviously, there's not much left to protect anyway.

He lifts your skirt to see what you're hiding, you can see in his face he's fighting to not laugh and thanks for his incredible acting skills he manages not to but that doesn't fade the red of your cheeks “I love them” You whine and laugh in a mix of emotions while he kneels in front of you. “No, I'm serious, I think it's lovely, it's my new favourite piece of cloth you have worn, and you know I love that Powerpuff Girls jeans.” Now he laughs but it's not mockery, his laugh is as warm as his hands can't be “In fact, let me show you how much I like it.” He whispers while his face slowly gets in the middle of your legs.

↬☀︎︎

You have been drawing nonsense lines with your finger on Tom’s back for the last half hour, Contemporary Art is your least favourite subject, you love the concept but the class is absolutely horrendous, slow and you find it very pretentious to decide what is art and what’s not, that’s why you usually spend this class texting Tom, playing some notebook game, laughing and showing memes to each other. The only reason you survive to this class is that is one of the few you share with him since you study different careers.

People constantly ask you why you choose Arts and not Fashion Design as a degree, and the answer is as simple as ever: Commitment issues. Even when you know costume design is what you love to do the most, you're not sure if you want to do this for the rest of your life, you know you want but you're not sure if you will, and that's why you want to have all your choices on your hand.

Tom has been especially moody these last weeks, silent, absent, as if he has something inside that is slowly killing him but can’t tell, and feels like is killing you as well. He and Sheep are the only people you share everything with but she's busy with the new boyfriend and Tom ignores every intent of communication you have.

“Want to go to the apartment? I have a day off.” You tell him putting your things in your bag when the class ends, not that you actually wrote something. That's how your conversations with him have become, he shamelessly ignores you, you try to make a move and he cuts you right off.

“No, I have something.” There it is. He said so fast and without the courtesy of look at you.

“Really, what is it?” You ask not even trying to hide your annoyance, he seems to notice because his tone is softer the next time he speaks.

“I have to pick something for my mom and then send it to her, there’s a lot of traffic and it’ll probably take me the whole day.” He responds clearly lying, not sure where to look at and stuttering.

“I can go with you.” But you already know the answer before he says anything. He declines your offer, says something like a goodbye, and simply walks away.

“Don’t take it too personal, he’s been like that for a while, there’s this girl he got obsessed with and nothing else matters.” Your classmate interrupts your internal agony talking behind you. “I think she sneaks into his room because he's there all the time.”

“So he's not doing something for his mom?” You ask not truly believing what he says, Tom tells you everything, what he thinks and feels 24 hours per day, well, he used to until a few weeks ago. Why would it be different if he has a girlfriend? Unless she's a witch suckling his soul, time and doesn't want him to see you, but you don't think that's the case, Tom wouldn't do that to you... Right?

“Probably not, but you tell me, I thought you were close.” He ends with a mocking smile and gets out of the classroom leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth. Why does this random extra in the movie of your life knows about the mysterious girl and not you? This is a poor written script, it needs more secondary characters.

You see Tom walking outside the building through the window and an impulse pushes you to run after him, not sure why or how but you want to know if the girl thing is true, or if he’s into something deeper and darker. Is your responsibility to look after him as he has done for you since day one. Even if the cost is violating his privacy? Absolutely.

After a few minutes of chasing him at a prudent distance, he enters the dormitories building as the creepy guy from class said, but that doesn’t imply anything, doesn’t mean he’s lying to you. Your phone rings with Ben's face showing up on the screen, a sign from the universe to respect Tom’s decisions and go to your own place with a precious blonde man who promises to satisfy all your fantasies. Then why are you running after your best friend?

Tom’s door is half-closed, which means that he’s open to visits or is waiting for someone, something like it, you just lived in the dormitories for three weeks so you don’t fully understand the system, you just know that he’s not doing something for his mom. You try to see through the tiny crack of the door but you can’t see or hear anything, maybe you should wait at the end of the corridor in case his date comes, you just want to see her, make sure your friend is actually lying to you and then perhaps make a scandal, you haven’t decided yet.

“Look what the south wind brought, Miss Latin America!” Suddenly an annoying voice from behind interrupts you from your espionage mission, Ezra Spencer, the man that tried multiple times to take you out but doesn’t bother to remember which country you’re from. You jump at the sound of his voice and turn around to find his stupid face smiling at you.

“Hey!” You force a kind expression and start to walk away from Tom’s door but it’s too late, the British boy appears behind it clearly surprised to see you there and unnecessarily nervous.

“It’s been a long time since I saw you, I wanted to invite you to my calendar but no worries, you are still on time to be Miss November, sited on a pumpkin with a scarecrow costume…” He starts laughing and you make a disgusted face but you don’t have time to say what you’re thinking because Tom is softly pushing you into to his room holding your arm.

“She’s busy being sexualized by another mediocre photographer, fuck off Ezra.” Tom closes the door with you two inside, he even put the safety on, making clear to your mutual friend that he is not welcome.

There are painful seconds of silence, you hiding your hands in your sweatshirt and looking at your own feet. This wasn’t part of the plan and now you have to explain why you’re there after he told you he wouldn’t.

“What are you doing here?” He asks after what seems an eternity and clears his throat because his voice sounded too weak.

“I came to see Janice, his boyfriend wants me to make a wardrobe from a play he’s making.” Very solid and detailed lie, you’re proud of how fast you thought of that. “Why? I’m disturbing you? interrupting something?” You don’t know why you feel so hurt, the mere idea of Tom lying to slip away with some random girl gives you nausea.

“Interrupting?” He asks folding his arms, his body is trying to protect himself of something, of you. You can see he’s as troubled as you, even more.

“You seem mad that I’m here.” That’s true but you’re inside begging he denies everything and hugs you, your need for his touch is a disturbing surprise, he never touches you expecting to go further and the lack of that kind of attention makes you missing him harder.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He murmurs and sits on his bed, he seems calmer now but dries the sweat of his hands on his thighs, he’s so easy to read to you and that’s why you are so worried, he can’t even see you in the eyes. “Fine, I don’t have to get anything for my mom, I wanted to be alone and I didn’t want to be rude, that’s all.”

“You’re lying, you been avoiding me for weeks, I know you visit Sheep when I’m not there, I know you turn around every time you see me at the corridors, I understand if you don’t want to be near me anymore or if there’s some girl that feels uncomfortable with us being so close” He looks at you with shock but you keep talking surprising the tears “But there’s nothing I hate more than lies.” You take a stress ball from his desk and press it a little “Let’s play the truth game, want you? I start, I actually came here to spy you” You throw the ball at him and he catches it with a confused face “Your turn.”

He stays still for a few seconds and then sighs. “There’s no some girl.” He assures and returns the ball to you, for some reason that answer calms you a little.

“I hate your old cologne, the new one is pretty good though” You raise your eyebrows but he doesn’t seem surprised, just chuckles when you threw the ball back.

“I changed it because Sheep told me you hated it.” He stands up and gives two steps to you, at that distance he could easily reach you but throws the ball anyway. You’re not sure how to take that confession.

“I hate how you’re treating me lately.” Your eyes water a little but not enough for him to notice, you return the ball and he catches without looking at it. “And I miss you.” You finish dancing a little over your feet to take the anxiety out.

He stays quiet again, but way longer than before, a dead silence that vibrates in your ears and makes you want to jump from the window, the way his eyes are desperate to tell you something but his mouth doesn’t is painful to watch. “There’s a girl.” He finally says, the game is over, the ball falls from his hand because you don’t care to catch it.

“I knew it” You claim and intend to walk away but he interrupts you giving a step in the direction you were about to go to, not sure if he has permission to touch you.

“But she doesn’t want me the way I do” That’s enough to stop you, and see the agony in kindest eyes that ever looked at you. “And I want her so much. Sometimes it can be almost too much. It can be so painful.” He gives another step and your heart is trying desperately to escape from your chest, you feel so little and fragile that it feels like a possibility. “And I only exist when she says my name.” He gives the final step, now the air between your bodies wouldn’t be enough to one breath, you're shaking and the number of emotions can’t let you decide what you’re actually feeling.

He closes his forehead with yours not fully touching, just enough to feel the warmth of his soul emanate from his body and enter in yours. “I only exist when you say my name.” He whispers clearing any doubt, he’s talking about you. He holds your cheek with one hand, touching you like never has ever before, that simple touch is more meaningful than any night or furtive moment you had shared with Ben or Tim. “Please say my name.”

“Thomas…” You don’t say his name, it is pumped out of your heart with the rest of the blood that keeps you alive, in a whisper, with the rest of the phrase missed on the course. You really wanted to say something, you must, your best friend is opening your heart to you and the only thing that appears in your mind is how grateful you are for always mask some gum after your classes so you can have good breath.

“Thank you” He answers finally breathing after your not sure how much, and you know it because his breath enters in your mouth before he kisses you, deeply, loving you with his lips, saying between kisses all you saw on his eyes before. Your hands find their path to his neck, the one you hold to stay standing and he hugs your waist firmly.

It wasn't a hungry kiss full of passion and bitten lips, he was showing you how much he means what he said, taking his time to savour the sweetness of your cherry gloss. You can feel him holding himself back for the way his fist clench in your sweatshirt and his breathing accelerate quickly.

Your phone rings again and as a reflect you slap his ear jumping in surprise, he grumbles in pain while you search your phone in your backpack just to see Ben's name again, something that absolutely sets off the mood. Mood? With Tom? That’s not possible.

“I forgot how strong you can be” He murmurs still rubbing his ear and you just realize what you were doing and the panic incarnate inside you like venom, so, clearly, you walk away like a scared rabbit. “No, wait! We need to talk.”

“I know, I just need some time” You reach the door and open it ready to disappear but he's already next to you holding your arm trying to stop you from leaving, you can see the panic in his eyes thinking that he screw up your friendship or any bond with you and you want to say something to calm him down but the words were stuck in your head not able to put together a coherent phrase “It's ok Tom, we'll talk about it tomorrow.”You give him a soft smile to show him that you're not mad at him.

“Why do you have to run away at any conflict sign?” Ouch, even when it's true you don't want to be questioned about your defence mechanisms when you are in the middle of one “Can you just...” Your phone rings again but with it in your hand, Tom can clearly see the name and picture of the sender. “You're leaving for him.” He says frowning severely and tighten up the grip in your arm, not enough to hurt you but it's disturbing.

“No, I'm going home, running away from conflict” But you hide and silence your phone anyway. Why are you feeling guilty? You don't owe him anything. Is clear that he doesn't believe you, especially when his hand in your arm doesn't loosen a bit. “Would you please let...”

“Fine, sorry. Fuck, you can leave, we’ll do this tomorrow.” He doesn’t seem too sure but he knows you so well to tell that keep pushing you is not leading anywhere.

↬☀︎︎

“What are you doing here?” Ben is waiting for you outside the apartments door, handsome as ever but with some kind of mournful robe over. You feel like you were being chased by your Christmas ghosts.

“You’re ignoring my messages and it’s New York, I thought you were dead” He gets closer to kiss your lips but you move your head and ends with a kiss on your cheek, you're not sure why you did it but kiss two different people in the same day, even in the same hour is overwhelming. “What's wrong Pinky Pie?”

“I didn't have a good day Ben, I want to take a shower and sleep before starting the mountain of homework I have, maybe in a few days when the dust settles...” The door opens when you turn the knob but your way inside is blocked by his arm in front of you and his proximity to your ear, in a common day, with your feet on the ground, that would've been enough to shrink your stomach but right now you're somewhere else. “That's your bad boy move? If you want to hit a wall please hit Merissa's, she’s a terrible neighbour.” You look at him with a mocking half-smile but you don't find the same. He looks… hurt?

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks taking his arm off your way but not the rest of his body, he's barely taller than Tom... But you definitely shouldn't be comparing them in any way. “You don't answer my texts, don't get my calls, and is like the twentieth offer to hang out with me you decline.”

“Don't be ridiculous” You mumble entering the apartment and leaving the door open for him to do the same, there's no sign of Sheep or his importunate boyfriend being there so you don't have an excuse to pass that conversation to another day. “You know I have a million things to do, there's not any actual reason.”

“You've been like this since I told you the friends thing.” He affirms walking inside and closing behind him, is the first time you see him like that, serious, with a lack of funny presumption in the face.

“I'm not a teenage girl with a broken heart that's throwing a tantrum because his crush used her to have sex. I just really want to sleep.” And cry probably, with no special reason, who needs any?

“Broken heart?” He asks with a troubled look, actually worried about what he thinks is a confession.

“I said that I don't have it. Are you even listening?” You don't really understand what's happening with him. Why is he here anyway? Everything feels like a clouded dream, but you're fully dressed and all your teeth in your mouth, that's how you know you're awake.

“Then why even mention it?” You have the feeling of having this conversation for the second time. Someone complaining about the lack of attention and the other denying the obvious. The difference is that you’re not that close, you’re just one of his many friends.

“Because you’re freaking me out! We were supposed to keep this cool but you’re here acting like a jealous boyfriend.” You don’t really think that, you understand the betray feeling of being ignored, even when there’s nothing more than a friendship, but you’re not thinking clearly and maybe the idea of commitment would make him uncomfortable.

“What if I am? Whatever I said doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you and I don’t care about your life. Fuck, you make me feel like I used you and now you’re doing some kind of revenge.” You know he appreciates you, he told you some of the most intimate things of his life and you did it too. Once you stayed awake all night talking about your favourite childhood movies, the age gap wasn’t an impediment for it since you like old movies as well and at the end of that call, your cheeks hurt thanks to how much you smiled. That was before the thing he said and Tim… and Tom.

“I'm not, but I can't just give my whole free time to someone that thinks of me as one of many.” That was surprising, frightening even. Until a few seconds ago you were sure you don't resent him for what he said but your mouth gesticulated words that didn't pass by the security station in your brain.

“Then there's a reason.” Apparently, it is, fuck. Jealousy isn't a common feeling in you, and to be honest, doesn't fit you, you don't want to enforce the concept of toxic Latinas who makes a scandal for minimum things. Is not jealousy, of that you're sure, but if that's so, then what is it?

“That's not what I meant” But you can't elaborate (not that you have much to say) because the door opens with Tom behind with a tough face and you just want to throw yourself out of the window (again). The last time those two were together was incredibly awkward, with all you know today, is a hundred times worse “Hey.” You say, you know, like an idiot.

“Hey.” He simply responds but is not looking at you, a battle of green and brown eyes is taking place in your kitchen, Ben doesn't seem to appreciate have his only time with you in weeks being interrupted, Tom can see that and takes his time to walk to you and whispers softly in your ear before leaving. “I'll wait in your room.”

“I guess your homework just arrived.” The blonde male in front of you has a tense jaw, and something in the way he's clenching his fist makes you give a step back.

“We have some unfinished issues that apparently can't wait until I've had some rest.” You explain like it means something for him.

“So do we” He says just standing there with wounded animal eyes that threaten to break your heart, that's why you look down at the ground with a growing feeling of guilt. “But I don't want to do it like this” He walks to you slowly, hunting, with a deadly seriousness that'd be scaring if he weren't that pretty. When he's a couple inches from your face you see him smile again, with the scent of tobacco filling your senses. “I get it, I wouldn't want to kiss you either if a just fucked another girl” You want to explain yourself, defend the honor you're suddenly so worried of but he doesn't give you space or time to do it. He kisses your cheek and hurries his way out the door. “You better answer my next call.”

What is that supposed to mean? But he's already gone so you decide it is problem of the future you, the one that is smarter, more mature, and luckily takes better decisions. You look at your dom room and take your time to go for it, yes, you were the one that wanted to talk about this but because you thought it was a jealous girlfriend thing. If you had the information you have right now, you wouldn't be so afraid to open your own door.

He is sitting in your bed but he's not as worried as before, there's some mix of resignation and confidence in his eyes, someone that can't lose something never had. You close the door and he throws a sock to you, a clean one, at least.

“Truth game 2.0, I ask something, throw the sock, you answer, ask something and throw it back. Are you dating Iván Drago?” He asks comparing Ben with that character from Rocky lV, and you laugh like it is another day of fun between you both, however, you take your time to think.

“No” You hear him breathe again and when you return the gaze to him, he's smiling at you. There's a lot of things you want to ask but not know how, or you do but you feel like it's another mission from your future you. “Would you stop talking to me if I was?”

“No” He answers immediately, not even thinking but the smiles fade away “But I don't think I could survive it again. You have to throw the sock.” He announces avoiding elaborate on his answer, it's obvious he's talking about Logan.

“That wasn't my question” cheater, you hear him mumble but doesn't do anything about it. “Why were you avoiding me?”

He sighs, catches the sock, and plays with it to kill some time.

“The day I was going to ask you out on a date you introduce me as your best friend to the lovely med student with a nice car. I know how the best friend role goes, I've done it a million times and was ok with it but I can't do this again. Not with you” Those words were meaningless to you, inside your irritation there's no space for an acceptable explication for his behaviour but you don't interrupt him.”A year later and you were free, sad, moody, and with no energy enough to exist but you still were my girl, I mean, the same as before. And I thought that if I give you enough time to take him out of your mind then it'd be a good moment for us, but again I waited too much and you found someone who spend time with” He is trying to find the correct words to not disturb you in any way. “But now I'm glad you did it because you're not sad and you have that shine in your eyes back. I'll always want the best for you, even when that's not me.”

“Answer the question” You insist again throwing an empty can of Diet Coke to his head, but he catches it before it hits him.

“I thought that if I was away from you long enough you could stop thinking of me as a brother and more as a...” But he doesn't finish his sentence, and you're sure is because he doesn't know how.

“A selfish asshole?” You are not sure how to act right now, how to be a proper human again, this is something you definitely didn't expect, and if he's saying the truth and he wanted to date you since you dated Logan, it's been a long journey. But you can't be that blind, can you?

“A friend! Someone that you don't feel that strange to date.”

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.” You claim walking around the room with folded arms, it actually got sense but is mean. If hurt you to have what he wants from you is a price he's willing to pay then you don't know him as you think you did.

“Is it? because I'm sure that before the space I gave you, you would punch me to death if I dare to kiss you.” Not that tragic but now you can’t think what you would do because all the situation is different, you miss him too much but you're not sure if this is the way you want things to happen, and the truth is you don't love him that way.

“It was cruel and evil, you can't force me to miss you to take advantage of that and come back as the men of my dreams. Cabrón engreído, no puedo creer que me hagas esto” At some point of your long walk around the room he corners you with your back on the closet and he in front, he was so smooth and slow that you didn't notice until he talks again.

“Is a very bad moment to tell you that it really turns me on when you speak Spanish?” You punch him on the shoulder and even when you see in his face that it hurt, he doesn't move away. “I know it wasn't the best plan ever but please. Do you have an idea of how hard it was for me to see you with them? Your new Ken is bearable but Logan was torture, the way you looked at him, how your entire body language changed when he appeared. I couldn't go through all that again, that would be the evil thing to do. At least I wanted to know if you are able to do all those things with me.” He holds your hands and joins his forehead with yours, and you allow it because you need his closeness too and you don't have the heart to push him away.

“What if I can't?” You murmur in a delicate sound you're not sure if he catches but you know he does, by the way his eyes close and his lips press. But after a long pause, he answers.

“Then I'll be your best friend again, ready to see you with all of those guys over and over” He opens his eyes again to see you, and something in them makes you know that he really means it “Even if it kills me.”

Now you regret to call him evil, he's not, is a fragile human with feelings that can be broken, like yours, and at the end of the day you can't keep doing what is correct for the rest of the world, you are the exact example of that, you have done it hundred times, no matter the cost. But he accepted to do it for you anyway, that takes a lot of love to have.

You wonder if someday you could feel something that strong.

“Now what?” You ask truly wondering, this is unknown territory, usually when someone likes you, you know what to do, if is reciprocate, you can kiss, fuck or whatever the terms are, and if is not, you kindly decline the offer, you’re not the kind to give false hopes.

This is not reciprocated; it didn’t take you much time to realize that. But there’s something in the way he looks at you that remains you of another feeling, one that you believed was faded away. Being loved. Is it too bad to be loved without love back? Is it too horrible to just accept without giving? The warm touch of his hand traveling along your arm to your cheek sotfed you and for a little moment, you feel you deserve it. You know you don’t.

“I'm not sure, I've only had you this close in my dreams” You try to fight but you finally smile, a gesture he imitates, and suddenly the situation seem less tragic, more natural, like the eclipses the ancestors thought were the end of the world, but knowing of its existence, it’is even beautiful.

“And what do you do then when you have me like this?” Look at you, flirting already. You're going to regret this tomorrow on Monday when Timothée tells you how much he missed you or when you answer Ben's call to listen to all the dirty things he wants to do to you, but you like that, right? You're an attention eager, that's why you broke up with Logan because it wasn't enough for the rest of your life. Wow, is it sexist to slut-shame yourself? Stop it, you're enjoying yourself, there's nothing wrong with it, you don't hurt anybody... yet.

A glimpse of light appears in his eyes but you can't tell what kind because he cuts the space between you both in a kiss more intimate and passionate than the first one. His hands are full of you, one holding your wrist firmly against his and the other traveling around your back, not sure what to do with all the freedom you gave him, his caresses are clumsy and awkward, lost like a dog that finally catches his tail, what's the next step? He finds his path when he takes the back of your neck and pushes backward slowly to discover your bare skin, that's the place where his lips start the fire, one that starts where his kisses touch and spreads to the rest of your body, is like he knows the exact positions of your sweet spots, like if he had studied and planned it multiple times until he prepared the perfect routine.

His free hand finds your leg and puts it on his hip, beating the record of how close you have been for the third time this day. You can feel his bulge, although that's a very vague way to say it, his state is dangerously hard and you can only be there at the moment, a clay dough being sculped by his prodigious hands.

His breathing is heavy, and the speed of his heart is bumping violently against your chest, you can tell how much he wanted this, how desperate he is for your closeness, you didn't need any other proof to that but he gave it to you when a heavy groan escaped from his throat and his whole body tensed for two different reasons. Did he just...?

He hurries to go to the other side of the room looking at the window with his hand holding himself to the wall. You should say something, something comforting. It's ok, that happens all the time. No, that sounds slutty. I didn't know this was a race, but you won! Haha, no, but you mentally high five for that. He's standing there trying to get his regular breathing back, and for the tension of his back you can tell he's mentally struggling too. Say something, it's been twenty long and grievous seconds, say something, say something, please say something, anything, a word, a cow sound. And then, your phone rings again. Thank God!

“Sorry, I need to take this, is my boss” Which is true but at this moment even an unknown number would be an important and unmissable call. You get out of the room and hurry to hide in the bathroom, where you can finally breathe again “Hey, Mr. Chalamet.” You say when answering not sure why, and now you feel stupid, being formal after the way he ate you out this morning is senseless.

“Are we playing Mr. and Mrs. now? I like it, I thought that the whole señorita thing is so burned out already. But I'd like Papi, oh God, can you call me Papi right now?” What's going on? Why can't you have five minutes with a normal and casual conversation with a male specimen?

“Ummm, this isn't a good moment, Tim. Can I call you later?” Or not, that's also a good option.

“Right, no, I want you to come to a party with me, is to celebrate the end of the shooting, an exclusive actor thing. I thought you would like to meet some people from the media and maybe slip away a couple minutes with me in the middle.” He sounds really excited like this isn't something he does every weekend of his life and some of that thrill sticks to you, it actually sounds tempting.

“Can I bring a friend?” You immediately think about Beth and how much she would love to go with you, and maybe you wouldn't feel completely out of place.

“No, sorry, pretty bunny, it's a really private thing, I'll get in trouble just taking you there. But what do you say? Tomorrow at 10?” He doesn't sound sorry and you don't appreciate the nickname but you decide to go on anyway.

“Sure, I'll be ready.” You hear something about what to wear and stuff but you hung up before he finishes because you're worried Tom thinks you're there hiding from him, and even when that is unintentionally true, you really don't want him to feel bad.

But when you open the door, he's gone.

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peterjonesparker · 7 years

Note

If your still taking spideychelle prompt could you do a jealous! Michelle

!Loved your jealous Peter fic. You should do a jealous Michelle one .

Omg can you do one with Michelle getting jealous?!

Loved ur new fic!!! Was wondering is you would write a fic about spideychelle proposal????

hello! i hope this is okay! i tried to write this in many different ways but nothing ever really felt right. so, this isn’t just jealous!michelle. so if you’d like me to write more jealous!michelle that is more similar to the jealous!peter fic i wrote, let me know and i can write some small oneshots or something. (i have ideas for jealous!michelle that is similar to jealous!peter but nothing that was enough to make a whole fic.) anYWAY, i hope this is okay! and sorry it took so long!

five people who hugged michelle (ao3 link)

1. gwen stacy

When Michelle is a freshman in college, she has a bit of a crisis. She and Peter have been best friends for around two years now, and she’s been nursing a healthy crush on him for a bit longer than that. And in their whole friendship/crush existence, Peter has only ever liked one girl: Liz Toomes. (Which, if she’s being honest, Michelle probably had a crush on Liz too. So she gets it.) This is all a roundabout way of her saying that she’s been able to have a crush on Peter Parker and not do anything about it because their relationship to each other and mostly to other people always stayed the same.

But in their freshman year of college, Peter Parker gets a lab partner for intro physics. She seems like a kind, genuine, funny, good person. She’s friendly and intelligent. And whenever Michelle makes the trek to MIT to join Peter for lunch before lab, Gwen always asks how she’s doing and takes a genuine interest in MJ and her life. So, Gwen Stacy is exactly Peter’s type (if Liz is a crush to go by), and MJ has a mini crisis about it.

Peter and Gwen don’t start dating though. At least not for the first month or so of school. But MJ is worried. And then one Wednesday while she’s doodling in the middle of her freshman seminar (it focuses on human rights and MJ is actually a big fan of the class, but That Kid™ is speaking right now and he’s absolutely insufferable), she feels her pocket buzz. It’s a text from Peter.

the dork pedro: hey, are you free for dinner tonight

She schools her expression so as not to give anything away while her professor gets into a debate with Kid™ about how his point, while there is some argument to be said for it, is actually irrelevant in the real world and only works in a hypothetical world where greed and selfishness doesn’t exist.

michelle “if you save my name with any emojis I’ll murder you” jones: yeah sure, 6:30? I’ve got class until 6.

Then her best friend in the class, Jenna (bless her soul), is speaking up to note that the readings actually don’t support Kid™’s ideas and suggest that there needs to be a more active effort on the part of society to correct wrongdoings and hold people accountable.

the dork pedro: sounds good meet at my dorm room

Michelle doesn’t realize until after class that she spends the rest of it smiling. Jenna punches her in the arm and laughs at the expression on MJ’s face. “What’s got you all smiley and happy?” Jenna knows about Peter. At least, she knows that MJ’s half in love with him and has been since sophomore year of high school. Jenna also knows, at least she claims that she knows, that Peter Parker is head over heels in love with Michelle and if they don’t start dating before the end of this year then Jenna will shave her head.

“I’m getting dinner with Peter tonight.” MJ tries to act nonchalant about the whole matter because they’ve gotten dinner in the past. It shouldn’t be a big deal. But then Jenna’s face lights up and she grabs MJ’s shoulders and starts jumping up and down.

“Tonight’s the night! I feel it!” And MJ starts laughing, shaking her head and starting to walk away with a smile on her face. “Tell me how it goes, MJ!”

“Yeah, yeah.” She says over her shoulder. “Now go to class!” But when Jenna whistles loudly down the hall, MJ just smiles and skips for a second before walking to her next class.

And if Michelle puts on her nicest pair of jeans and uses her hands to brush her hair so it’s a little neater, well, no one can prove that. (Except her roommate who just laughs when she changes her shirt, but her roommate is sworn to secrecy so good luck getting that information from her.) MJ walks a little more quickly to Peter’s dorm. (It usually takes her about forty minutes to walk the two miles, but she does it in thirty tonight.)

She practically jumps up the stairs to his room and when she notices the door is slightly ajar, she pushes it open without a second thought because this is around the time he was expecting her. And then she sees Gwen. She’s sitting next to Peter on his bed and she has her arm around his shoulders and when she glances up to see MJ, she jumps. “MJ!”

But before either of them can say anything else, MJ is backing away, apologizing quietly before she runs out the dorm and down the stairs. She can’t really get very far because it’s dark and her tears are making everything blurry. So she settles onto a bench near the dorm in a small brick alcove. She pulls her knees up onto the bench and wraps her arms around them, feeling stupid as she lets her head fall between her knees. This is dumb. She’s dumb. She knew it was coming. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

“MJ?” While MJ likes Gwen well enough, she is the last person on earth she wants to talk to right now. (Well, second to last.) But Gwen sits next to her on the bench anyway because she refuses to take a hint when MJ doesn’t even look up. “I know saying ‘it’s not what it looks like’ feels like a lame excuse, but it’s true.”

Michelle takes a deep breath and looks up at Gwen, not caring that her tear-stained cheeks give away how much she cares. “I’m happy for the two of you, honestly. I just,” she sighs. God, this is the worst.

“You love him.” At Michelle’s shocked face, Gwen continues. “You’re not subtle. Neither is he, you know.” When MJ’s brows draw together in confusion, Gwen laughs. She has the decency to look sheepish when MJ scowls. “I’m sorry, it’s just that you two are so bad at this. He and I aren’t dating, okay? I’m gay.”

And, fuck. Honestly, how could MJ be so heteronormative? She’s bi for crying out loud! The only other person MJ sees Gwen with is that one girl Alex. She saw them holding hands once! God, MJ feels ridiculous. Gwen just puts her hand on MJ’s knee and chuckles. “We spend half the time during lab talking about his massive crush on you and how he plans to woo you. Tonight was supposed to be a special night.” Michelle’s eyes widen and Gwen smiles warmly. “I told him to stay in his room because I figured he’d mess this up somehow because he’s clueless, but you probably already knew that.”

Michelle doesn’t really know how to feel right now but she puts her legs back on the ground and pulls Gwen into a hug. She whispers quietly into Gwen’s hair, “thank you.” Gwen rubs her back and squeezes her a bit more tightly.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. Hopefully now I don’t have to listen to how you’re never going like Peter the way he likes you.” Michelle pulls back with a laugh, wiping her cheeks and opening her eyes wide, trying to get rid of any residual tears. “Now go find him, please.”

Michelle smiles, standing up and thanking her one last time before sprinting back to his room. He’s sitting on his bed, face in his hands and shoulders sagging. MJ walks over and sits down next to him, hugging him tightly when he looks up at her. His arms wrap slowly around her waist and it’s a bit uncomfortable hugging while they’re sitting down but his warmth is intoxicating.

She pulls back slightly. “So, I hear you want to be my boyfriend.” Peter flushes, his ears turning red and his eyes widening. He looks too adorable, so Michelle just rests her hand lightly against his cheek. “Kiss me if yes.”

Peter leans in and their lips brush. It’s short and nothing too spectacular, but they’re both smiling and afterward Peter pulls her back into a hug, burying his face in her neck and kissing it softly. Michelle can’t contain the butterflies that are flapping around in her stomach. She finds she doesn’t really want to, either.

2. liz toomes

Michelle loves Liz Toomes. She’s one of her closest friends. After Liz moved to Oregon in Michelle’s sophomore year, they started talking more. Michelle would keep Liz updated on decathlon and ask her questions. Liz would tell Michelle about Oregon and being the new kid and tease MJ about her crush on Peter.

So when Liz tells MJ that she’s going to be in Boston for a conference next week, MJ is understandably very excited. Since Liz and Peter are fairly good friends now, the three of them arrange to get dinner together. Michelle is excited. Honestly, she is. But, there’s still a part of her that gets a little self-conscious. Because Peter and Liz joke around and Liz is so bubbly and alive and outgoing and charming and all these things that Michelle’s never cared to be nor has she wanted to be.

It’s not that Michelle doesn’t think she’s a pretty awesome person. Nor does she want to change who she is because of what she thinks Peter might want. She knows her loves her. She knows they’re happy. But she worries that Peter wants someone like Liz sometimes. That he might be happier with someone more like Liz. Which, she knows, is dumb. But she can’t help but feel sometimes as if he’s with him because they’re friends and they were attracted to each other and it was convenient and made sense.

Which is why she’s a little off at dinner. She’s a bit quieter and Peter and Liz joke together and MJ doesn’t contribute all that often. When Peter goes to the restroom, Liz turns and levels her with a serious look. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Michelle tries to play it off. She knows that it’s a lame response and that Liz will not accept it. Which is why Liz just raises one eyebrow and keeps looking at Michelle with the same look on her face. And MJ is trying to be more open and honest because Peter always says he never really knows what she’s thinking. So, MJ sighs and closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at Liz when she says something she knows Liz is going to disapprove of. “I get worried that I’m not going to be enough for him.”

She opens one of her eyes slightly so she can peak at Liz, but she doesn’t look incredulous and Fed Up™ like she had thought. She’s just smiling, warm and gentle. She reaches out and puts her hand on Michelle’s shoulder. “In all the years I’ve known Peter, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. It’s like you hung the moon and he’s going to spend every day worshipping the ground you walk on. He absolutely adores you, okay?”

Michelle pulls Liz into a hug so she doesn’t accidentally start crying in this restaurant. “Thank you for telling me I’m being dumb.”

Liz chuckles. “Of course, MJ.”

They’re still hugging when Peter walks back and he laughs a bit, asking, “I was gone for like five minutes. What happened?”

Michelle and Liz pull back from their hug, grinning at each other. MJ turns to Peter and kisses him on the cheek. “Nothing to worry about, loser.” He shakes his head and scoffs, but his cheeks are slightly pink so she figures Liz is right about everything, so she should trust her on this one.

3. may parker

At the end of their first semester sophomore year, Michelle and Peter start to struggle a bit. He’s going off on missions a lot more frequently and he’s starting to fall behind and it feels too similar to the beginning of sophomore year in high school and Michelle doesn’t want to feel like they’ve gone back. Michelle sees him less often, and it wouldn’t usually be an issue because they both get busy. But it’s been a week since she’s seen him and when they text the conversations are short. She reads online that Spiderman has been particularly active in the last two weeks, and Michelle doesn’t want to be upset, but she is. Hell, they haven’t even had sex in, like, a month. Which, for them, is a really long time.

It’s more than just the sex, though. Michelle misses Peter. She misses watching movies with him on the couch and cuddling when she’s particularly stressed. She misses him trying to make tea and failing, somehow, even though it’s honestly not that hard and we’ve talked about this three times this past week. She misses talking to him right before they go to bed and stealing food from his plate and having tickle fights. She misses him posing for her doodles and holding him when he cries after a particularly bad dream. She misses him. But she’s also upset at him.

So, over Christmas break when they’re both back in New York, when she arrives at his house to give him his present (which may or may not include a blowjob if she’s feeling generous and also maybe because she wants to have sex with her boyfriend because it’s been so long) and he’s not at his house, she scowls a bit.

May smiles, but Michelle knows that she’s also concerned. Despite this, she laughs. “Normally, I’d be offended at seeing someone so disappointed to see me!”

Michelle sighs, frowning a bit. She’s tired. Really, she is. “I’m sorry, May. You know I love you.”

May just puts her hand on Michelle’s shoulder and guides her inside. “I know. Come on it. He’ll hopefully be back within the hour.” May closes the door once Michelle is inside and directs her to the kitchen table. She walks into the kitchen and puts the kettle on the stove. “You like earl grey, right?”

Michelle smiles, nodding slightly. They’re silent while the water heats up and then the kettle screams and May brings over two mugs. Michelle lifts the tea bag up and down, watching the color spread in the water. They chat about how school’s been and what May’s been doing. She’s dating someone new. Michelle congratulates her. But then it’s been forty-five minutes and Peter’s not back. May reaches over and grabs Michelle’s hand. “Tell me what’s going on.”

That’s hard. Because Michelle doesn’t fully know herself, but she’s sad and upset and frustrated. But she loves him so much. “I miss him.” That’s really it, isn’t it? He’s not around anymore and she misses waking up and having him wrapped in her arms. “It feels like he’s always gone now. I just…miss talking to him and doing little things with him. It feels like I’m not as important as I used to be.” She leaves out the part where she misses sex, but it doesn’t really matter at this point, she doesn’t think. Besides, while she loves May dearly, she has no interest in discussing her sex life with the woman.

“Tell him.” May says it as if it’s all that simple. Michelle doesn’t want him to feel like he has to choose. Doesn’t want to make him feel like he has to give up this part of his life. May continues on despite the look Michelle is sure she’s giving May. “He cares about you. A lot. He will listen. It’s not unfair to tell him how you feel.”

Then there’s a crash in his room and he’s home. He comes out a few minutes later in his pajamas and gulps when he sees them. He looks a little worse for wear, but he’s okay. May stands, saying she’s going to spend the night with her girlfriend. She walks over the give Peter a kiss on the cheek. She hugs Michelle tightly before she leaves and whispers into her ear, “Be brave enough to be vulnerable.”

Then she’s gone and neither she nor Peter says anything for a moment. But Michelle takes a deep breath and quickly spits out, “I miss you.” He looks like he chokes on anything he was going to say and walks over, sitting next to her and grabbing her hands. Somehow this empowers her and she continues. “I feel like we don’t see each other or talk anymore. I miss just sitting next to you and doing homework. I miss laughing with you.” She looks down, blushing slightly. “I miss sex with you.”

He laughs, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry.” He kisses her forehead. “I love you.” He kisses her nose. “I miss you.” And then he kisses her mouth and she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him tightly to her. It’s weird, sitting in their respective chairs and kissing. But it feels like deliverance so she doesn’t really care.

She’s smiling when he pulls back slightly. She glances down and runs her hand up his thigh. HE chokes on air a bit and she laughs. “I actually came here to give you your Christmas presents.”

“Presents?” He squeaks out and his voice is a couple octaves too high. She just smiles, feeling like a vixen when she slides off her chair to kneel on the floor in front of him. She yanks open his pajama bottoms and he gulps, head tilting back as he whispers out a quick, “Jesus Christ.”

She laughs again when he looks back at her, looking absolutely wrecked when she hasn’t even done anything yet. “Face it tiger, you just hit the jackpot.”

4. ned leeds

Michelle is absolutely livid right now. She’s wound so tight she’s going to snap at the next person who says a single word to her. She was at the meeting for queer students on campus when she encountered a woman who looked at her, confused and slightly upset. “Wait, don’t you have a boyfriend?”

Michelle had sighed. She had been asked this a couple times over the last few meetings. “Yeah, I’m bi.”

The woman just raised one eyebrow. “But you’re in a straight relationship.” And she’d already had a long day and she didn’t want to deal with someone implying she wasn’t gay enough to be at their queer meetings. So she’d picked up her backpack and stormed out. She didn’t care what this woman thought of her, she just needed to get out of that room.

She walks the mile to Peter’s apartment quickly because she’s about to burst into tears and she doesn’t want to do that in public. She just wants to see her boyfriend and hug him because she feels so fucking exhausted. But when she knocks on the door, he’s not ther. Ned answers because he’s visiting this weekend and then Michelle bursts into tears and Ned pulls her into the apartment and gives her a hug.

They stand like that for a couple minutes. Ned’s rubbing her back in soothing circles and whispering assurances to her. When the tears become less all consuming, Ned pulls back and asks, “what’s going on?”

Michelle takes a deep breath, trying to stop her tears. “A girl implied I wasn’t gay enough to be at a queer meeting.” And then her tears come more forcefully again and Ned pulls her back into a hug. Her shoulders shake and she buries her face into his neck, not caring that his shirt’s probably very wet on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, MJ. Oh my goodness.” He guides her to the kitchen counter and sits her down on the bar stool. He sits next to her and keeps rubbing circles on her back. “I’m sorry she was trying to erasure your identity.” Michelle just nods, taking deep breaths as her heart stops racing so quickly. “It’s not the same, but sometimes I feel like people don’t really accept my demisexuality. Like, I’m on the ace spectrum but some people don’t want to acknowledge that. Like, especially since I’ve found Betty. It’s hard because everyone just assumes I’m in a perfectly straight hetero relationship. And I go to queer meetings and people are always just like, ‘oh cool, an ally!’ And I want to shout, ‘I’m not an ally! I’m queer!’” He pauses, eyebrows furrowing. “Not that I wouldn’t be an ally. I don’t actually know what I’m saying right now but I should probably stop.”

Michelle laughs and hugs him tightly again. Ned’s her best friend too. She loves him. “You’re such a dork, Ned. I love you.” They hug until Peter comes home and she’s still crying a bit. When Peter notices, he rushes over and she pulls away from Ned to hug Peter. Because she missed him and she loves him too and he always knows how to make her feel better.

Peter guides her to the couch and covers her with a blanket. He kisses her on the head and then walks back into the kitchen to find Ned putting a kettle on the stove. “What happened?”

“Someone implied she was straight.” And oh god. This has happened too many times to count since she’d started dating Peter and he feels so badly. So when he walks back into the living room with a mug of chamomile tea (because it’s her favorite and it puts her right to bed and she needs her sleep), he pops the DVD for Frida into the DVD player. Michelle claps her hands together and smiles when she accepts the mug from Peter.

Peter slides underneath her so she’s laying her head on his lap and when Ned comes over she lifts her legs before resting them on his lap. She dozes off almost instantly, Peter rubbing circles on her temples. Her last thoughts as she starts to drift are that she loves these boys and the family they’ve become for her.

5. peter parker

It’s a week before graduation. Michelle is freaking out a bit. But she feels like she shouldn’t be. Because on all accounts, her life is pretty great. She’s going to Columbia to get her masters next year. Peter’s going to be working for Stark Industries in New York so they’ll be able to stay together. Her brother is moving to Jersey so he’ll be close. She and Peter are going to May’s wedding this summer. Ned’s going to fucking Stanford for medical school next year. Things are awesome, so she shouldn’t be freaking out.

But the other day one of the women who worked in her office proposed to her boyfriend. And it got MJ. Because she started thinking about Peter. She loves Peter. They’re going to be living together in New York. And MJ always hated the idea of marriage as a kid, but when she thinks about calling Peter her husband, her heart does little flips.

And it’s all she’s been able to think about for the past week. While everyone is panicking about moving to a new city or going to grad school or wondering what they’re going to do after college, Michelle has been sitting back, panicking because she’s in love with her boyfriend and she might want to marry him. She might want to marry him soon. She always thought she wouldn’t get married until her thirties. Because she was going to develop her career and settle into her life before settling down in that regard. But she and Peter have been dating for two years and they’ve already settled into each other. It’s not as if much would change. They’d just get tax breaks.

So MJ decides to call her older sister. But it’s one in the morning and she wakes her up and she’s not happy about it. “MJ, I swear to god if this isn’t an emergency, I’m going to kill you.”

“I think I want to marry Peter.”

Her sister doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, slowly, as if she’s worried Michelle won’t understand: “And that’s a problem because…?”

And there’s the rub. There isn’t a problem, not really. She and Peter are doing well. She thinks they’re going to continue to do well. They plan their lives around being with each other now. She’s happy with him. It wouldn’t be a stretch if they were to get married. “I…I don’t know.”

Her sister sighs and Michelle can practically see her rubbing her hands over her eyes. “MJ, look, I don’t know why you’re scared. I don’t know if you’re worried you aren’t ready because you’re only twenty-two or if you think he’s not going to say yes or if there’s some other wild reason you think you shouldn’t ask Peter to spend the rest of his life with you. But if you want my take on things, I think if you decide you do want this, then you should ask. Because there’s no reality in which he doesn’t say yes and there’s no reality in which he isn’t happy with you.”

Her sister can’t see the smile on her face, so MJ manages to laugh despite the tears forming and says with a waver in her voice, “Thank you.”

The laugh on the other end of the phone is comforting still, even though Michelle is sure it’s at her expense. “Now can I go to sleep or is there an existential crisis I need to work through with you?” MJ laughs, thanks her sister, and they say their good nights. Before she hangs up, her sister says, “Congratulations, by the way. In advance.” And then her sister hangs up the phone. So, Michelle makes up her mind and that is that.

Then the issue becomes how does she ask? She knows she wants it to be private, like so many things with them are. But she also wants it to be special. Because he means a lot to her and she wants him to know she put a lot of thought into this.

Which is how she ends up waking up at three in the morning and heading to the kitchen the day before his graduation date. (She graduated a few weeks ago, but has stayed in Boston for his.) She steals one of his mugs and paints the words marry me? at the bottom. (She’d seen the image on Pinterest a few years back and thought it was cool.)

She wakes up slightly earlier than him and makes breakfast. Omelettes with prosciutto and spinach, his favorite. (She thinks it’s eh, but it’s easy to make and he groans after each bite and it makes her hot and heavy. They usually end up having sex afterward, but today she can’t do that. Well, at least not immediately.)

When he finally stumbles out of his bedroom and sees the omelette on his plate, he gasps. “Babe.” He walks over and hugs her tightly, kissing her on the cheek. “You’re the greatest.” She laughs, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him onto the bar stool.

“Now sit and eat before your graduation.” She puts a plate in front of him and hands him the coffee mug. She’s incredibly nervous. And she does her best not to stare each time he takes a sip of his coffee. She was worried he wouldn’t want to finish it so she didn’t put all that much in it.

She’s in the middle of talking about which color they should paint their bedroom walls in their apartment in New York when he takes a sip and then stares down at the bottom of his mug. She stops talking without realizing and he stares up at her. He tilts the coffee mug toward her and raises one of his eyebrows in question.

She bites her lip, looking down at the kitchen counter. Then she glances back up, smiling despite the nerves. “Wanna get married?” She asks, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “To me?”

And Peter jumps up so quickly the bar stool falls back but then he’s wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and lifting her up and spinning her around. She shrieks, even though it’s eight am and their neighbor works the night shift. (They’ll give him a pie later.)

He sets her down and kisses her smack on the lips. It’s sloppy and they both have morning breath but it might be the greatest kiss she’s ever had. “In case I wasn’t clear, yes.” Peter pulls her back into a hug. “A thousand times yes.” He starts kissing her neck and her jaw and MJ’s heart beats a mile a minute because she and Peter are going to get married.

Then Peter’s hand goes down her pants and she gasps, pulling at his wrist. “Peter, you’re going to be late for your graduation!”

He just kisses her and bites her ear before whispering, “my fiancé just proposed to me. Graduation can wait.” And his voice is really deep and husky and Michelle’s still turned on because Peter kept moaning after each bite of his omelette.

He smirks and continues on and Michelle throws her head back and moans. God, she’s so excited to call Peter her husband. And she tells him this. Many times. And Peter is only, like, ten minutes late for graduation. He’d kissed her cheek before he ran off and whispered into her ear, “It was worth it.”

God, she’s so in love with this dork.

#ask #theygotboxesandnurfguns #spiderman homecoming #spiderman: homecoming #sh #i write things #otp: i'm just kidding i don't care #spideychelle #peter x michelle #michelle x peter #michelle jones #peter parker #ned leeds #may parker #liz allan #gwen stacy #lol so many tags

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