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Summary: your boyfriend, Peter invited you over since May was gone for the night. That night you realize he's bigger than you imagined. You were sure his cock won't fit, but he made it fit.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, explicit language, fingering, p in v, protected sex (lmk if I missed something)
Word count: 1921
Author's note: I know I'm late with many fics and I'm sorry for that. They're slowly coming, I'm working on them. I hope you'll like this one
Author's note2: not proofread. Also English is not my first language so maybe there will be mistakes.
Wolfie's Kinktober 2025 Masterlist
Main Masterlist
You and Peter were best friends for a very long. Until that friendship started turning into something more. At first, it was just causal hangouts. Then those hangouts somehow turned into dates. Once his hand was hovering near you, now it was either holding your hand or resting on your waist. From kisses on the others cheeks turned into real kisses. Though you never say it out loud, you never talked about it or confirmed that you're dating. It was obvious. He called you his girlfriend, and you called him your boyfriend.
It wasn't your first relationship, neither his. Maybe, that's why things changed without any of you noticed. It changed naturally. And now, Peter invited you over, saying that his aunt won't be home. So, you two can have some alone time together.
When you arrived, Peter was more than eager to finally have you all to himself. But you felt the same way. So, the moment the door closed behind you, his hands were on your waist, pulling you close to him then his lips were on yours. You didn't hesitate wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back. You only broke the kiss when you ran out of breath. Then he slowly pulled back, took your hand and pulled into his room.
At first, you were just watching a movie. Your head on his chest, his hand on your thigh as you were laying in his bed. But as the movie went on, his hand started to wander higher and higher on your thigh. You obviously noticed but didn't say a word. You tried not to react to his touch, to see how far he’d take things, but you couldn't help as your heart started racing and goosebumps appeared on your bare skin wherever he touched you.
You hoped he won’t notice. You didn't wanna give away that you probably wanted this just as much as he wanted it. That you wanna take your relationship to a new level.
You lifted your head to look up at him, only to see that he's already looking at you with a small smirk on his face. He definitely noticed how your body reacts to his touch.
"You're staring" you stated as you felt your face heat up.
"Can't help it. You're too beautiful" he said then he gently pushed you to lay on your back and he crawled above you.
He supported himself on his forearms next to your head, caging you in. Not like you wanted to leave. Your hands ran up his arms as you stared up at him. Your hand stopped on the back of his neck, and you pulled him down to press your lips against his. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, seeking for entrance, which you granted. Your tongues met halfway and you tugged on his hair at the back of his neck slightly which made him groan into the kiss.
One of his hands moved and ran under your shirt, caressing your stomach. Then he started pushing your shirt higher as his hand wandered higher. Your hands wandered too, running down his back till the edge of his shirt. You grabbed the hem of it and broke the kiss as you pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. He pulled back more and you sat up a little as he took of your shirt, dropping it to the floor. Then he pushed you back down on the bed and his hand wandered up your back till the clasp of your bra and he undid it with a quick movement, throwing it somewhere in the room.
He looked down at your body, staring at you for a while then he dipped his head down as he started trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest. Your breathing quickened and you had to bite down on your lower lip to stop any sounds that wanna escape you.
He paid more attention to your breasts with the kisses, sucking one nipple into his mouth while he kneaded the other then he switched between your breasts. Till now, you were quite good controlling your moans, but when his lips reached your breasts, you couldn’t hold back the sounds anymore. But your moans just spurred him on, and you felt him smile against your skin as he continued trailing kisses down your stomach till his lips reached your shorts.
You lifted your hips a little, letting him know to continue so he quickly unbuttoned your shorts, hooked his fingers into the belt loops and pulled it down your legs. His fingers brushed your legs as he slowly pulled down your pants then tossed it aside.
He shifted lower on his bed and started kissing up your legs. He stopped when he reached your inner thighs as he sucked on your skin leave his mark there. To his kisses, you felt as you get wetter and your panties now were soaked.
"Peter don't tease me please" you pleaded and he couldn’t deny you.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled it down with a quick, swift movement. Then he just dropped it on the floor. He pulled back to admire you, laying in bed, naked.
"You're soo beautiful" he said as his hands ran up your legs slowly. One of his hands went to his pants and he palmed his already hard cock through the fabric. While his other hand went between your legs, until his fingertips brushed you pussy.
"Fuck... you're soaked, baby. You need me that bad?" he asked but you couldn't answer he pushed two fingers inside you which made you gasp.
His fingers were pumping in and out of you or he was scissoring them to stretch you out more which made you grip his bedsheets. And you couldn't help the moans and whimpers escaping from your mouth. Peter knew what he was doing, he always knew what made you feel good. He knew how to curl his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside you which made you buck your hips against his hand. It wasn't the first time he was fingering, but it always felt so good. And he always made you come fast. With his fingers or with his mouth. Even though he wasn't your first relationship, he was still different when it came to you making you cum.
This time was no different than any other. It didn't even take you long to get close to the edge. The knot in your lower stomach tightened, ready to snap at any moment. But now, he didn't let you finish. When he felt your walls clench around his fingers, he slowly pulled them out which made you whimper.
"Why did you stop?" you complained.
"Tonight, I don't wanna make you cum with my fingers, baby" he said as he wiped his fingers which were covered in your juices to his pants then reached to his bedside table and he pulled out a condom from the drawer.
He quickly removed his pants alongside with his boxers and tore the condom packet open with his teeth. While you were staring at him. Well, you were staring at his cock. You know he's big. But he was bigger than you expected.
"Fuck" you cursed as you watched him roll the condom onto his hard cock.
"Is something wrong, sweetheart? You don't want this? We don’t have to if you don't want to" he said but you shook your head.
"No. I... I want this. It's just. You're big. It's not gonna fit" you mumbled still staring at him.
"I'll make it fit" he whispered as he grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, so you were looking into his eyes. Then he leaned down, kissing you softly and you immediately melted into his kiss.
He lined his cock up at your entrance and he slowly started to push inside you while he was kissing you. You moaned into the kiss as you felt him stretch you open and your arms wrapped around his neck. While his hands went your thighs, lifting them to wrap them around his waist, so like this he hit an even deeper spot inside you.
"Tell me if I can move, sweetheart" he whispered against your lips as he stayed still inside you, waiting for you to let him know when you're ready. You needed a few minutes to adjust to his size but once did and the slightly burning feeling disappeared, you nodded a little.
"You can move" you whispered and kissed you again as he slowly started moving, rocking his hips against yours. He didn't wanna overwhelm you, so he was moving slowly at first until you had enough "Faster, please" you asked him.
Peter couldn't deny you when you asked him so nicely, so he started moving faster. His hips snapping against yours as he was fucking you faster and deeper now.
"Fuck... Just like that" you moaned.
"Yeah? You like this?" he asked but you couldn't answer because the moment you opened your mouth all that came out was a broken moan. He didn't even need any other answer. Your moans were enough to answer him.
But he was just as vocal as you were. So, the sound of skin slapping against skin,
his groans and your moans filled the room. You were already close before but now you couldn’t hold your orgasm back even as you tried.
"Peter... I'm soo close" you moaned and your fingers dug into his shoulder as he kept moving inside you. You didn't have to tell him, you're close. He knew from the way how your walls fluttered around his cock.
"I know, sweetheart. I know" he said as he kept fucking into you fast and hard. Your legs started to tremble as you reached the edge. The knot in your stomach snapped and your walls clenched around his cock as you cum all over his cock.
But he didn't stop moving. He kept fucking into you, guiding you through your high while also chasing his own high which was very close. And soon, he stilled inside you and his cock twitch as he came, filling the condom with his cum. He buried his face in your neck while he stayed inside you for a little longer. He waited till you both came down from your highs then he slowly pulled out of you.
"Are you okay?" he asked as he rolled off of you, laying down next to you. He took off the condom, tied a knot on it then threw it in the trash can near his bed.
"Yeah" you whispered as you turned your head to look at him, only to saw him get out of bed "where are you going?"
"I'll be right back, Sweetheart. Don't worry" he said as he disappeared into his bathroom.
But soon he returned with a wet cloth in his hands. First, he cleaned you up with it then himself and he laid back down next to you, dropping the wet cloth to the floor.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked once again as you just shifted closer to him and rested your head on his chest.
"I'm sure, Peter. It was amazing" you said and you heard him let out a sigh of relief then his arms wrapped around you.
"Good. I think it was amazing too" he said and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
summary: when wine night faded into wine morning, you realized that you were a little lovesick.
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
As you filled up a Ziploc bag with water from your sink, you felt Peter approach you from behind, embracing you. He smelled like he was fresh out of the shower—like pine, and suspiciously like your coconut face wash. You tried to ignore how much his touch melted your stress away. Electing to remain tense just to convey to Peter that you were irritated - immature, you knew it - you plopped a penny into the bag, stood on your tiptoes, and tried to hang it around the rusty old hook the old owners screwed into the bannister over the window.
“Why is there a penny in there?” he asked. You heard him scratch his head and turn, unwrapping the bread, opening the cupboard door, plugging in the toaster.
“It’s supposed to get rid of flies. It worked when my mom did it,” you said, yet the more you spoke and struggled to tie the string you threaded through the Ziploc onto the hook, the more your voice wavered in hesitation. Peter hummed and you felt him whisk behind you to the fridge, fetching the butter.
“I wonder why that happens,” he mused, pulling his toast out and spreading the butter over it. Yellow melted into the crevices of the bread. At this point, you had given up, and had placed the failed experiment of a plastic bag in the sink, standing with your bum to the counter, crossing your arms. You eyeballed him as he took a fat bite of his toast. Then, with his mouth open, crumbs dribbling from his lips, he asked, “maybe it's the copper?”
Unable to hold it in, you laughed, “maybe it’s because there’s flies in here in the first place.”
“Huh?”
“Stop doing a shitty job of washing the dishes, Peter Parker!”
He gulped down a large bite of bread and had the gall to look ashamed. It was such a petty thing. Yet, after dating for nine months since you met him in that godforsaken coffee shop you worked at, you had learned that, with him, he would keep conducting himself in blissful oblivion until you told him something. Sighing, you gave him a stern yet empathetic look, wrapping your arms around his side as he slowly ate his food.
“My bad, Y/N. I’m sorry. I never realized it was this bad,” he looked down at you and wiped his crummy lips before kissing your forehead, “but I really never thought it was so bad you had to resort to your mom’s woo-woo stuff.”
“Hey!” You flicked his side. “Take me seriously. And the thing works. Also, I can’t reach the hook. Put it on there for me? Please?”
“Of course,” Peter said, walking to the kitchen sink, extending his arms and lifting up the base of his tshirt, exposing his absurdly defined back.
That visual reminder of his athleticism made you add, “and what do you mean, woo-woo? Have you seen what you do for a living?”
With deft ease, Peter tied the knot over the hook, laughed, squeezed the bag for good measure - for some reason - and watched it bubble, then got down to face you.
“Is that in the right spot?” he asked, standing at your side, admiring it with you.
“Works for me,” you said. “Thank you.”
After Peter had eaten his toast, apologized again, and apologized again, he proposed an idea. Thus, two hours later, you and Peter sat on your slightly cat-scratched Craigslist couch, already through a bottle and a half of some wine you had nipped from your work party. You lounged with your back on the side, legs over Peter’s lap, his hand absentmindedly gliding over your thigh. You were tipsy, and at this point in the evening, you had resorted to lazily gazing at Peter, just taking your partner in—yet, as you inspected, he looked tired. Too tired. His undereyes suddenly seemed too purple and his hair too mussed. Frowning, you sat up right when the vinyl transitioned into a new track, wine sloshing in your glass.
“Woah, there, cowboy,” Peter said, trying not to smile as he steadied your hips.
“Sorry, Parker,” you slurred. “How’s the Spidering going?”
His lips tugged into a jokingly offended frown.
“I told you, that is not what we are calling my, uh… arrangement.”
“My arrangement,” you taunted, biting your lip to prevent them from widening into an amused and lovesick grin. “Like that’s any better.”
He thumbed your hips as you straddled him, wine still in hand, “and what do you propose?”
“Spidering.”
“Horrendous, love.”
You laughed and kissed him and nearly spilled the wine onto his clean curls before he swiftly grabbed it from you, placing it on the coffee table with such agility you could hardly register the coolness of the glass leaving your warm palm. With both of your eyes still closed, he tongued your mouth, sitting up; heat soared through you, anticipation hot on your tongue.
“I’m so happy we moved in together,” he admitted lustfully against your lips, brushing his hands over your back, “I’ve had such a fulfilling month.”
“You only want me for one thing,” you teased, teeth accidentally grating his teeth as you held back a smile.
“Yeah, your food and your woo-woo penny Ziplocs,” he said. And then, after a moment, his eyes gleamed impishly: “and how you suck my cock—hey!”
You bit his bottom lip a little bit too hard before sinking to your knees, sighing when his hands automatically threaded through your hair.
“It’s like you read my mind,” Peter said, lips pulled into a lazy grin.
“It’s like you just said what you wanted out loud,” you said, smirking, undoing the tie on his gray sweatpants. Peter laughed breathlessly and shook his head as you pulled his pants down, feeling him twitch through his boxers. You regarded his throbbing length curiously, tilting your head.
“It’s crazy how thick you are, y’know,” you told him, gently squeezing. He sucked in a breath as the record stuttered and his eyes darkened. You could see the faint outline of his abs heaving underneath his sheer shirt, and as you tugged his boxers down, you gazed up at him through your lashes when his dick bounced back against his chest, pink, hard, and getting bigger. You smoothed a hand over his stomach before closing your eyes and taking him into your mouth. You loved exploring the taste and feel of him; you had learned that whenever you took the time to look up at him and hollow your cheeks, he had to look at the ceiling, unable to watch, eyebrows furrowing—
So, you did that. And Peter reacted as you had predicted.
“Fuck,” he groaned. The Ziploc penny bag jingled in the wind as it bustled through your open window, the midmorning light cascading onto his cheekbones as you dared a glance at him. You clenched your thighs as he clenched his jaw and lightly held the back of your head, not pushing you nor forcing you onto him.
“I wanna feel you so bad,” he muttered slowly, suddenly pulling you off of him, grabbing you by the armpits and lifting you onto his thighs, making you burst into a fit of laughter. You bit your lip and pulled your hair behind your ears as you quickly got off on him, your sleepshorts slipping to the side, exposing your bare heat.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I laugh when I’m excited,” you said, already out of breath as his tip slid against you.
“I know,” he said, pushing into you. He sat straight against the back of the couch as you rode him feverishly, frantically, eyes fluttered closed, noses smushed together, arms wrapped around his back. You gasped into his mouth and he helped quiet you, kissing you dirtily.
“I love wine morning,” he said through a pleasured huff.
“Me too,” you agreed. “We should do this more often.”
Peter’s lips fell agape when he hit a particularly euphoric spot inside of you. You saw stars and moaned into his mouth and he rested his chin on top of your head, pulling you into his chest, fucking you impossibly hard yet slow.
“Fuck, Pete,” you cried out, scraping your nails against his back, unable to deal with the sheer pleasure; you bounced on him so fast you were panting, kissing his neck, holding him close, “fuck wine night.”
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
author's note:
hi!!! i hope u liked this lil blurb:)) im tryna focus more on cute lil domestic blurbs bc the intense dark ones make me sad LMAOOCJ fucc pisces moon..... anyways THOOO pls send me requests<3
and if you would like to be added to my taglist, comment here, or shoot me a message! good day/night folks love yousss<33
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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smut 18+
here's an obsessive peter parker x shy reader drabble cause idk I just really like this pairing
m.list
Peter is absolutely positive that he was in heaven, and no one could tell him different. He’s sat in his room doing a lab report, while the love of his life sits in his lap. He can hardly focus on the ten-page lab report, instead focusing on the way you’re raking your fingers through his hair.
“Baby,” His deep voice interrupts your train of thought. “You know I love when you get like this but I can’t focus and I need to get this done.” Groaning, you get up from his lap to flop on his bed behind his desk.
Soon, any sounds heard from his room are typing on his computer. You don’t dare turn around, opting to scroll on your phone. Ten minutes go by with your boyfriend ignoring you for his paper. You understand that he’s busy, but you just really want to be close with your boyfriend. It may be selfish, but you’re really just craving him. Peter can just feel like something's wrong, not with his spidey senses, but with his boyfriend senses.
Turning around his chair, he leans back. Today you had no class, so you just chose to wear some comfy clothes rather than your typical ruffles and skirts. Peter’s seen you in a sports bra and some shorts over a thousand times, and he can’t help but admire you. The shorts are doing a number on you, letting him fully admire your round ass.
Not being able to help himself, he stands from his chair and walks over to you, rubbing one cheek, leaning over so he’s right above your ear. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” His voice damn near sends you into psychosis.
Shivers go straight down to your core as you turn on your side. He’s taken his glasses off, so you’re able to see every freckle on his cheeks. Beautiful brown irises stare back at you as he awaits your response. “I miss you.”
“Is that so? I missed you too, sweetheart.” He lays a delicate kiss on your lips as he continues to rub your ass. Peter moves so that he’s lying on his bed, pulling you on top of him. Immediately, his hands wrap around your waist as he sits back and admires you. “Are you bored?” He asks, thumb rubbing circles into your hip.
You nod, resting on his lap. It was moments like this you loved and cherished. Like a scene out of a TV show, the picture-perfect couple. A hand moves from your waist to drag your face down to his. Lips interlocking, only to pull away after a mere few seconds. “Then what do you want to do?”
“What do you wa-?”
“That’s not what I asked baby.” Peter had a hidden talent for rendering you silent. You knew what you wanted to do, but you were too embarrassed to say it. It’s not like you can just ask your boyfriend of five months to fuck you into next week. Well, you can, but it’s more complicated when you have to initiate it.
“I-” His gaze is unmoving, raking over your beautiful form. To him, you’re perfection personified, a true angel landed on earth, his to have and to corrupt. The lone hand rested on your waist, fingers on the waistband of your shorts. “What do you want to do?” Peter says, demanding an answer from you.
“I want….I want you to..” You can hardly finish the sentence. It’s almost like your body won’t allow you to finish the statement. Conditioning from years of hiding your own truth and wants. Peter knows this better than anyone. The hand that was resting on your face moves down to your shorts to join the other one.
“I want you to-Can we have sex?” You blurt out, before hiding your face behind your hands. Warmth fills your cheeks as you shy away from your boyfriend. “Hey.” His response is immediate, and he sits up to properly hold you.
“Of course we can.” Peter kisses your neck, then tugs at your shorts. “Can we take these off?” You nod as his gaze stops you in your tracks. “Words.”
“Yes.” Shorts fall down your legs and join his shirt on the floor. He switches positions so you’re lying on your back. Peppering kisses along your bare midsection, stopping right above your pelvic bone. You can feel his breath as he slowly pulls your underwear down.
The urge to close your legs to hide yourself suddenly invades your mind and actions. He stops you from holding your legs far apart. “Don’t hide from me sweetheart.” Kissing your inner thigh before tentatively swiping your sopping folds. You feel him shudder at this action, utterly obsessed with how wet you got for him.
“You’re always so wet for me, baby. God I love you.” He murmurs into your pussy, tongue licking from bottom to top, spending an extra second at your clit. Your head falls back onto his pillows as you moan out loud. His head perks up at your moan, shushing you as he does. His frat brothers happened to be home, and he knew how much you hated it when they joked about you guys having sex. “Normally I would be thrilled that you’re so loud for me, but I need you to be quiet sweetheart.”
Nodding, you try your best to conceal your moans and whimpers as he explores your heat with his tongue. The warmth of his tongue is felt as it caresses your walls, before bullying its way into your hole. Your legs clamp around his head as you grip the top of his hair.
Slowly, a finger replaces his tongue as he moves upward to suck on your nipple, freeing it from the confines of your sports bra. Lost in a dreamy haze, you hardly notice that he’s added another finger to the sounds of your wetness being heard throughout the room. You can’t help but feel awkward as the sound of your slick just gets awkward, as he speeds up.
Reaching down to grab his wrist, you can hardly muster a simple sentence. “Loud, it’s so-” A kiss cuts you off, his hand pulling you in by your neck. He understands what you mean; he always does. It’s a part of his charm and allure; he knows you so well.
His fingers leave you as he licks them clean. Reaching over your sweat-covered body, he grabs his phone and connects it to his speaker. Music blasts from the device, as he smiles down at you and throws his on his dresser. “Is that better?”
You want to nod, but know it’s not what he wants to see or hear from you. “Yes.” Your voice is like honey in his ears; it has a desperate tone that mimics your feelings. Peter shimmies out of his sweats and boxers and makes you sit up so he can take your bra off completely.
He’s seen you naked a dozen times before, but he can’t help but admire you. Beautiful brown skin on a gorgeous body, usually hidden away by clothes, shades of pink, blue, and white—his beautiful, gorgeous, amazing girl. Peter lays kisses starting from your face, going all the way down to your feet.
Carefully guiding his manhood towards your heat, he keeps looking at you. Peter’s quite big, and that’s a humble way of saying it. He’s thick and long, veins running from the base to his tip. It bullies your entrance, as your head falls back into the covers. Looking at his face, it’s easy to tell that he’s holding back from ramming in.
“Almost there, beautiful, almost in.” Peter murmurs to himself, before fully sheathing himself inside of you. A large moan begins to leave your mouth as his hand clamps down. The other rests right beside your head.
His thrusts have no rhythm to them, just erratic, and he’s so pussydrunk, so so pussy drunk. Abs clenching as he pounds into you, his own groans and whimpers barely being audible. “You’re taking me so well, you’re so perfect.” At this point, you didn’t know if he was talking to you or your pussy.
Tears fall down your cheek, coating his hand as he removes it, going to kiss you instead. He flips you over, making sure your head’s not in an awkward position. Peter leans back, slapping your ass not too hard. “Arch properly, please, baby.” He’s not asking, nor is he commanding. He’s begging, and you give in. Turning your head so you can watch him, you adjust how you’re resting, arching deeper, ass playfully rubbing against his pelvis.
Rewarding you for how quickly you reacted, his cock slides back in no problem. The force of his thrusts has you crying into his pillow. He reaches over to turn the volume of his speaker. His attention doesn’t stay off you for too long, grabbing you by the hips so you can be closer. “Take it, baby, take that dick.” He groans, looking at how you just take him, a creamy ring forming on the base of his cock.
You start to get close to your climax, eyes rolling back into your head, and you swear you can see stars. Peter, the all-knowing boyfriend, knows the telltale signs of when you’re going to come, drags you up to be flush against his chest. Hand gropes your tit, pinching the nipple. “You gonna come for me, baby?” His voice tickles your neck as he sucks on it.
Unable to form a sentence because of the sheer pleasure of your oncoming orgasm, you nod. His fingers fly to your clit, gingerly rubbing it, catapulting you into your orgasm. Body shaking as you feel take over you. Peter kisses you to swallow your moans, which have become louder than the music. He’s fucking you through your orgasm just as he’s done before. “That’s it, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me, that’s right.”
Falling forward on the bed, his constant praises and reassurances barely heard. Peter’s still fucking you, determined to get off as quickly as possible. You clench against him unconsciously, your body naturally trying to help him get off. “You’re so good to me-fuck!” He pulls out quickly before finishing on your lower back, swearing as he rests his hands on his knees.
Peter acts quickly, grabbing a tissue to wipe you off and changing you into clean underwear and one of his shirts. He puts on some shorts himself before forcing you under the covers. “You were so good for me. I love you.” He kisses the top of your head as he wraps his arms around your boneless body.
You drift off into a deep sleep, the comfort of Peter making it easy. When you wake up a couple of hours later, he’s still in bed with you, typing up the ending paragraph for his lap report. You smile, burying yourself in his shoulder.
a/n: okay now let me write what the people wanna see, i just had really get this out my system
I could see this nerd getting deep in the zone working on anything, especially a lab report, which is intricately detailed and extensive. But because he's who he is, he just knows something's up.
Then, with that voice:
Don’t hide from me, sweetheart...
You’re always so wet for me, baby...
You’re taking me so well...
Synopsis: You see Peter at a party years after your messy breakup and some truths come out
Masterlist
“How long do we have to stay?”
“It’s a party, Peter. It’s not going to kill you to be away from your apartment for one night.” Ned sighed as he pressed the button for the 13th floor in the elevator.
“It might.” Peter said out of the corner of his mouth.
“You need to get out more, dude.” Ned told him. “You’re starting to become Boo Radley, when really, you should be Jay Gatsby.”
“You never read either of those books.” Peter pointed out.
“No.” Ned agreed. “But I Sparknote-ed the shit out of them enough to know that you are becoming a homebody. And everyone knows that is the first step to becoming a serial killer who wears suits made out of unsuspecting women.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Peter answered sarcastically.
“Just try to have fun tonight, okay? I won’t make you stay that long. But I want to see you taking to some people.” Ned requested as they walked into the apartment where the party was being held.
“But you’re the only person here that I….” Peter trailed off as the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. He stared ahead and felt the rest of the world fade away as his eyes landed on you for the first time in four years. You were leaning on a counter in the kitchen with a red solo cup in your hand and a lightness to you he hadn’t seen since the early days of when you were together. The music that had been playing when he walked in became a dull thump that Peter felt in his chest. You hadn’t caught his eye yet, too busy laughing at a story a girl he sort of recognized was telling you.
Your hair was different. Your clothes too. But there was something still distinctly you about you that brought Peter back to a place he didn’t know he still knew how to get to.
“Peter, I am so sorry. I didn’t think she’d be here tonight.” Ned said, pulling Peter back into his body. He managed to tear his eyes away from you, only once he processed what Ned had said.
“You didn’t…uh, is she…do you guys still talk?” Peter asked Ned with an undertone of betrayal.
“No, dude. I haven’t spoken to her since high school.” Ned assured him. “But I know she’s friends with Harry’s girlfriend. I just didn’t think they were close enough that she’d be here.”
“Oh.” Peter said quietly as his attention returned to you. He wanted to turn around and leave before you saw him, but it was too late. Harry, the host of the party, appeared in the doorway of the kitchen to greet him and Ned.
“Hey. Glad you guys made it.” Harry said as he pulled Ned into some handshake-hug hybrid.
“Thanks for having us.” Ned replied. “This is my friend-“
“Peter?” Your voice pierced him like a sword. Harry stepped to the side when he heard your voice, giving you a perfect view of Peter. He stared at you like he was staring down the barrel of a gun, unsure of what his next move should be.
“Oh, you guys know each other?” Harry asked as you departed from your kitchen counter and walked into the living room.
“We all went to high school together.” Ned answered right before you enveloped him in a hug. He shot Peter an apologetic glance before returning the hug.
“Ned. It’s so good to see you.” You said as you squeezed him.
“You too.” He answered quietly but genuinely. “It’s been too long.”
“I had no idea you all knew each other. What a small world.” Harry laughed as you and Ned pulled out of your hug. Your eyes slowly went back to Peter, taking their time as if you hoped he wouldn’t be there anymore by the time you looked his way. He was frozen in time as he stared back at you, taking it all the ways time had changed you since he saw you last.
“Um, is there something else?” Harry chuckled awkwardly when the uncomfortable silence between you and Peter became prolonged uncomfortable silence. Peter stayed quiet and let you decide how much information you wanted to share.
“Peter and I used to date.” You said without taking your eyes off of Peter. Harry’s girlfriend, Sadie, had joined the conversation at some point, but you and Peter weren’t sure of when.
“Wait, you two dated?” Sadie asked as she leaned on Harry’s arm. “I can’t see that.”
“Neither could he. Probably why we didn’t work out.” You said out of the corner of your mouth. Peter absentmindedly touched his lips, realizing he may have developed his habit of doing that from you. You laughed at your own joke, but you were alone in that. Your face fell when you saw how uncomfortable everyone else looked, so you looked down into your cup and took a long sip.
“Wow. Thanks for fucking up the vibe, guys.” Harry said after a minute. “Drinks, anyone? Or perhaps a blow torch to melt the ice between you?”
“That would be great, thanks.” You smiled tightly.
“I’ll be right back with that.” Harry said before heading towards the kitchen. Sadie squeezed your shoulder before walking off with him.
Peter turned to look at Ned, but no longer saw him standing next to him. He looked around the room and could see Ned absolutely cutting it up at a game of Just Dance through the open door of one of the bedrooms. Peter was fearful to turn back around because he knew that meant it was now just the two of you. Before he could psych himself out, he whipped around to face you. You were sizing him up, noticing the way his hair had grown out and how he’d lost his remainder of his teenage features.
“Well, this is a surprise.” You said to break the silence. You took another sip of your drink without breaking eye contact with Peter.
“It’s really good to see you. I didn’t think we’d ever see each other again.” Peter heard the sound of his own voice before realizing he was speaking. He had played out the moment he saw you again in his head a million times, but this version was something he hadn’t written in his mental scripts.
“Yeah, that was heavily implied by the post-it you left on my computer.” You said with a tight lipped smile. This response surprisingly put Peter at ease. It helped him to know where you stood, since the way he ended things left him completely unaware of how you felt about the breakup. He left a post-it note for you to find when you woke up three years ago and had zero communication with you until this moment.
“I’m so sorry about that. I’m sorry about a lot of things that happened between us. I was such a dick to you.” Peter continued, feeling like once he started to pour out all these bottled up feelings, he was not going to be able to stop.
“You said it.” Was all you said before taking another sip of your drink. Peter touched his back pockets and then the pockets of his jackets, looking for something to fidget with. He settled on toying with the zipper of his jacket while he search for the right words to say.
“Do you think we could talk?” He asked in a quiet voice. “Somewhere more private?”
“I don’t really think you and I have anything left to say to each other.“ You answered. Your tone wasn’t harsh, just honest. Peter began to chew his lips and felt his chance to make things right slipping away.
“I think I have a lot of things left to say to you, actually.” Peter said with an awkward chuckle.
“Then maybe you should’ve sprung for a bigger post-it.” You shrugged.
“Please.” Peter said softly. “Just one conversation. Maybe we could go outside or something?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me.”
“What?” Peter frowned, feeling like he had heard that once before.
“That’s what your note said.” You reminded him. “On the same kind of yellow post-it we would use it remind each other to run the dishwasher. I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me.”
“That’s not….thats all I wrote?” Peter asked in embarrassed disbelief. He had left in such heightened state of emotions that night that he couldn’t remember the exact wording he had chosen.
“You don’t remember?” You asked him, seemingly more amused than upset.
“I’m sorry. I don’t.”
“Wow.” You said sarcastically. “And here I was thinking we both would know it by heart. Guess it’s just me.”
“That’s awful. Oh my God. You should’ve found out where I was and dropped an anvil on my head or something.” Peter replied, unexpectedly making you let out a dry laugh.
“Hey, I still can.” You reminded him. He felt himself dare to smile the slightest bit.
“You’re being unreasonably civil with me considering the circumstances.”
“Well, if you had shown up before we played that last drinking game, this conversation would be going a lot differently. But lucky for you, I’m too drunk to remember just exactly how much I hate your guts.” You replied, making the smile fall right off his face. Hearing that you hated his guts was painful, even though he knew he deserved it.
Before Peter could respond, a guy a full foot taller than him bumped his shoulder and pulled you into a hug. Your demeanor changed and you tensed up, making eye contact with Peter over the man’s shoulder. He felt his heart sink and knew his face was not hiding how he felt.
“Hey, beautiful.” The man greeted you as he pulled away. Your blank expression became a fake smile the second he could see your face.
“Hi!” You said in a tone Peter recognized as your voice when fake niceties were being exchanged. You made eye contact with Peter again and stared at each other. As angry as you had been with him, you did not want him to be in this situation.
“Sorry, did I interrupt?” The man asked when he noticed you staring at Peter.
“Kelly, this is Peter. He’s a friend of a friend.” You explained. Peter made a face for several reasons. Kelly did not seem at all phased by hearing Peter’s name, so you had clearly not told him about your relationship. That, and you had lied about how you knew each other.
“What’s up, man?” Kelly said and held out his hand. Peter panicked, not knowing if he was supposed to shake his hand or do the weird handshake hug-hybrid he just saw Ned do. He ended up doing an awkward mix of both and saw you turning your face to the side to laugh.
“Not much.” Peter answered with a similar fake smile to yours. The three of you stood in the most awkward silence of Peter’s life until Kelly cleared his throat.
“Can I get you another drink?” He asked you.
“Yes, thank you.” You nodded and handed him your cup. Once he was gone, you and Peter exchanged another look.
“Kelly?” He asked you with raised eyebrows.
“Don’t start.”
“Of Blue Book fame?” He continued, making you give him a lethal stare.
“It’s a unisex name.”
“Are you sure about that?” He mumbled, but you heard it.
“Don’t start.“ You repeated, this time with a warning finger.
“I’m not. I’m not.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense. You shook your head and looked away, but he could tell you were trying not to laugh.
“I’m not seeing anyone, if you were wondering.” He said, making you look at him again.
“Oh, I wasn’t.” You assured him, but there was a playfulness to your tone. He reminded himself that you were drunk so that he didn’t read into things.
“Oh. Well, now you know anyway.”
“What a relief on behalf of women everywhere.” You replied. You turned away again, but this time, you couldn’t hide your laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“Kelly Blue Book was a low blow.” You told him. “We are not rekindled enough for you to say that.”
“Does that mean we’re rekindled somewhat?” He asked, making you roll your eyes in a playful way.
“No. I’m just drunk and I have a soft spot for you.” You said like it wasn’t a big deal.
“You do?” Peter asked with softened eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off by the sound of a girl laughing loudly in the kitchen. You both turned to look and saw Kelly leaning very close to a girl to whisper something to her. Whatever he was saying must’ve been the funniest thing she had ever heard because she was slapping his chest as she laughed. You folded your lips in as if this didn’t surprise you and didn’t meet Peter’s eyes.
“He seems-“
“I don’t want to hear it.” You cut him off and walked away.
Peter was smart enough to give you space, but curious enough to make sure he always knew where you were. He stayed by Ned for most of the night, but made sure you were never out of his peripheral vision.
He saw you laughing and doing shots with your friends in the kitchen. He noticed when you were dancing to a song from a movie he had forced you to watch once upon a time. He was aware when you went to the balcony by yourself to stare at the city skyline and catch your breath. His eyes stayed on you as you got yourself another drink and came back to the living room. Your eyes went to something in the center of the room, so Peter’s followed. There he saw Kelly dancing between two girls and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. Peter looked back at you and saw that you weren’t exactly watching Kelly, but not unaware of what was happening either. Peter was glaring daggers at him on your behalf with his disdain building by the minute. One of the girls whispered something in Kelly’s ear and he nodded before going over to you.
“I think I’m gonna head out soon.” Peter heard Kelly tell you.
“Really? But you just got here.” You said with your fake smile.
“Yeah, but, uh, my friends want to meet up. He’s really upset and needs me.” Kelly told you without bothering to keep his eyes off the girl he had just been dancing with. Peter could see on your face that you didn’t believe him. You pulled him by the arm onto the balcony, rendering Peter unable to hear the rest of your conversation. He could, however, see the two of you fighting through the window. He quickly looked away when you came back in, but he could already tell you were crying. You went straight for the bathroom as Kelly went out the front door, one of the girls he’d been dancing with not far behind him.
“I’ll be right back.” Peter told Ned. He made his way over to where the bathroom was so that he could catch you on the way out. When you didn’t come out for a while, he took it upon himself to knock on the door.
“It’s Peter. Are you okay?” He asked through the door. He heard the sink turn off a few moments before you opened the door.
“I’m fine.” You said without trying very hard to convince him. He opened his mouth to say more, but decided you were probably in no mood for any form of comfort from him. You were staring at him through your tear smudged black mascara, almost daring him to try to cheer you up. Instead, he silently pulled a tissue out of his pocket and handed it to you. You looked down at it and he couldn’t sworn he saw the tightest hint of a smile from you. You took it, gave him an appreciative nod, and went on your way.
Peter kept his eyes on you for the next hour. The party was dying out, making it easier for him to keep track of you. When he saw you repeatedly opening and closing the clasp of your left earring, he knew he was running out of time.
“You heading out?” He made his way over to ask you.
“Oh. Uh, yes actually. How’d you know?”
“I saw you playing with your earrings. That usually means your social battery ran out ten minutes ago.”
“How could you possibly see that from the other room?” You cracked a smile as you asked him.
“You’re the only thing I see.” He said simply. Your teasing smile turned into a sad one and you looked away.
“So, um, I know you said you hate my guts, but I think it would be good for us to talk sometime. Do you still like that coffee shop near the movie theater?” Peter asked timidly.
“I haven’t been there since we were together.” You shook your head. Peter was about to ask why not, but he knew why not. You didn’t want to go there because you didn’t want to risk seeing him.
“Could I take you there? I just want to have one conversation. To clear the air and everything.”
“Peter, you broke up with me on a post-it note.” You reminded him. “I don’t care what you want.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. What do you want?” He finally asked.
“To get past you and go home.” You answered and pointed towards the front door.
“I’ll walk you.”
“That’s okay. I don’t need a chaperone.”
“It’s late and we’re not close to the subway. It could be dangerous.” He told you, wanting to add “and you’re wasted”, but didn’t.
“I’ll take the risk.” You said as you moved past him to get to the door. Peter made the bold move to stand in front of you to block you, hoping you would understand when you were sober.
“Don’t be stubborn. I’m walking you. I’ll walk a few paces back so you can have your space.” He stated, making you roll your eyes.
“Fine. But I’m gonna fart a bunch so you have to walk through it.” You grumbled and let him walk with you out of the apartment.
“That’s fine. Whatever you need.” Peter nodded. You stopped walking and looked at him with a smirk.
“Jesus.” You laughed. “I was joking.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He smiled in embarrassment.
Peter kept his promise and walked a few paces behind you. He sent Ned a quick text about where he had gone, to which Ned replied with several suggestive emojis. Peter rolled his eyes and put his phone away so that he could keep a close eye on you. The cold New York air felt amazing after having been in that apartment with all those people. You were stumbling a little from being intoxicated and looked over your shoulder every so often to make sure he was there. When you were about halfway home, you turned around.
“This is weird.” You said as you shoved your hands in your pockets and walked up to him.
“What is?”
“Knowing you’re behind me. I think it’s putting me more on edge than if I was walking alone. I keep forgetting it’s you and getting freaked out by the footsteps.”
“I can walk lighter.” He offered. You shrugged and kept going, with Peter taking lighter footsteps this time.
“It’s not working.” You sighed. “I still know you’re there.”
“I could go across the street?” He suggested, but you shook your head.
“Come on. Walk next to me. But don’t talk to me.” You warned him. He nodded and quickly fell into step beside you. He snuck what he hoped were discreet glances at you every now and then. It was so insane to him to be walking beside you after believing he’d never get the chance to talk to you again. Every time he looked at you, he got a pang in his heart that radiated in his whole body. And everytime he remembered the interactions between you and Kelly that he witnessed, he felt white hot anger coarse through his body.
“Just ask.” You said, breaking the silence.
“What? I didn’t say anything.”
“Your face did. Just ask me what you’ve been dying to ask me.” You permitted him. Peter hesitated, then went for it.
“So, you and Kelly?”
“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Of course.”
“How long have you been together?”
“We’re not. It’s not serious.“
“Oh. So you guys just social distance and talk about unsexy things together?” He asked, making you laugh again.
“That about sums it up.” You nodded in agreement.
“Is he good to you?” Peter asked, making you give him a look.
“You’re nice to pretend you didn’t see us fighting.”You sighed. “But to answer your question, when his eyes aren’t wandering, yeah, he can be pretty nice.”
“His eyes wander from you? Not possible.”
“Very possible.” You told him. “And constant.“
“Why do you stay with him then? Why even give him the time of day?”
“It’s complicated. College can be really lonely.” You shrugged. “But he tells me that I’m pretty and kisses my head before he leaves. So it’s okay that he doesn’t see me as an equal.”
“Is it okay?” Peter asked you, making you give him another look.
“No.” You admitted. “But, you know, college can be really lonely.”
“Yeah. I get that.” Peter nodded along. “I don’t get you with him, though. I saw how he was tonight. Showing up late, leaving early, talking to other girls. That guy is an idiot. He’s not good enough for you.”
“No, he’s not.” You agreed. “But we accept the love we think we deserve or whatever the stupid tumblr quote is.”
“You don’t deserve that.” Peter stated. “Fuck Kelly, and his little blue book.”
You stopped walking and laughed at his joke before nodding to the building you were standing next to.
“Thanks for walking me. This is me.”
“Wait, you still live here?” Peter asked when he recognized the building.
“I do. But a different apartment. Remember that pipe in my bathroom?”
“That dripped hot water on your head when you least expected it? Sure do.”
“Well, it burst, so I had to move out.”
“You didn’t happen to leave the window open in the winter, did you?” He asked you, always knowing the answer.
“I still think that’s a myth.” You prefaced. “But yes, the pipe happened to explode after I happened to forget to close the window last January.”
“Totally not your fault.” He teased. “Do you like the new place?”
“Eh. It’s okay.”
“Did you hang all your sun-catchers back up?” He asked, causing you to look at him in surprise.
“I did.” You told him with a slight smile. “But one of them broke in the move.”
The fleeting image of Peter’s back being painted with rainbow light from your cardinal shaped sun catcher flashed in your mind. You blinked it away and turned your face, worried that if you looked at him too long, you’d start to cry.
“Not the frog one, right?” He asked, making you chuckle. You had bought that one together on your first trip out of the city.
“No, not the frog one. That one’s okay.” You said with a sad smile. You and Peter stared at each other for a while and he had the same longing smile that you did. You had to look away again, fearing that if you didn’t, you’d invite him to come inside.
“I should go.” Peter said to break the silence, and you just nodded in agreement. He began to step forwards, but felt like his legs were full of cement.
“I can’t move.” He told you, making you frown.
“Why not?”
“Because this might be the last time I ever see you.”
“Well, I don’t know. I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Maybe we’ll run into each other at a Best Buy or something in a few years.” You shrugged, making his heart sink.
“That makes me sad.” He admitted without meeting your eyes.
“Well, what did you expect would happen to us when you broke up with me?”
“I guess I always thought I’d get my life together and you’d…” He trailed off when he realized how stupid he sounded.
“And what? I’d be waiting for you?” You laughed dryly. “For my gallant hero to outrun his demons and come back to me? And reward me for patiently waiting and keeping my life at a standstill until he returned?”
“No. It’s not like that.” He shook his head. “I knew we were in wildly different places in our lives, and that you were going to be far better off without me dragging you down. I thought it would be some kind of a messed up favor to you to get rid of myself so that your life could go on. But I guess I thought we’d meet again one day when we were different people and…..”
“And?” You asked he he trailed off again.
“And remember why we fell in love.” He admitted, just in case this really was the last time you ever saw each other.
“It doesn’t really work like that, Peter. Life goes on. You made the decision to leave. We are different people now, but that doesn’t erase what happened.”
“I know. I know I can never undo what I did. I just…I just hope I see you sooner than a few years in a Best Buy.”
You were quiet for a minute and folded your arms as you looked at him. You stared for such a long time that Peter felt his face heat up.
“I go to the one around the block.” You said finally.
“What?”
“The coffee shop. I stopped going to the one by the movie theater and started going to the one around the block.”
“The one with the scary guy that yelled at you for taking too long to order?” He asked. “I thought you were never gonna go back there.”
“He’s pretty nice, actually. He was high strung that year because his husband had just passed. But he gave me a free scone when I came in here a few days after we broke up. He said he could tell I needed it.”
“Wow.” Peter smiled sadly. “I drove you to the point of visibly needing a scone.”
“Eh, I kinda live at that point. Don’t give yourself too much credit.”
“I won’t.” He chuckled. You smiled back at him, the first full smile you’d given him all night. Suddenly, your expression changed and the color drained from your lips. Peter was quick to hold your hair off your face as the last few drinks you’d had that night came back up. Peter blew on the back of your neck while he waited for you to be done.
“That was hot.” You groaned as you stood back up.
“It was.” Peter chuckled and timidly rubbed your back.
“You can go. The Cool Ranch Doritos I ate about to make a reappearance and I don’t want you to see that.”
“Give me your key.” Peter said and held it his hand. You dug in your pocket and placed your key in the palm of his hand. He unlocked the front door of your apartment and ushered you inside. The doritos made their reappearance in the trash can of the lobby while Peter explained your situation to the doorman.
He let the two of you up and Peter somehow found himself in your apartment. It looked pretty similar to the last one, with several cabinets open due to your habit of taking things out and walking away. Your roommate’s door was closed, so Peter quietly led you to the bathroom. He couldn’t help but look around and try to gather bits and pieces of information about your new life. The candles that you burned the most, the things you hung on your fridge, and the various trinkets you kept on your coffee table. He absorbed it all as he got you a glass of water, wondering if the brightly colored cups in your cabinets were your idea or your roommates.
“This is not how I imagined tonight would end.” He laughed numbly as he handed you the cup of water. You gave him a gracious smile and then chugged it, hoping you’d be able to keep it down. He helped you get up off the bathroom floor and leaned against the wall while you brushed your teeth.
“How did you imagine it?” You wondered. “Like, what would’ve been your ideal outcome when you realized I was at the party tonight?”
“That’s a good question.” Peter said as he thought. “I think I would just want us to be okay with each other. We had so much love between us at one time. I hate that the way I left tarnished that.”
You rinsed your mouth out and stared at him in the reflection of the mirror for a while. It seemed like you were processing something, or maybe you were just sobering up and remembering how much you hated him.
“Then why did you do it?” You asked finally. “Why a post-it note? Why didn’t you just wake me up? Or end things before I went to sleep?“
“I couldn’t face you. I couldn’t look you in the eyes and tell you it was over.”
“Why not?” You demanded. Peter looked visibly surprised at the abrupt display of anger, making you look down at the sink in embarrassment.
“I want to say I didn’t want to see you look devastated, but I think I really didn’t want to see you look relieved.” Peter admitted without meeting your eyes. You actually appreciated his candor and smiled sadly, but still had a hardened look in your eyes that told Peter he was not yet forgiven.
“Can I ask you something?” He said in a wavering voice.
“Depends on what it is.”
“Did you ever think about me? Like, when you were waiting for an elevator or something? Did I ever cross your mind?”
Peter looked so small and fragile that you almost stepped forward and hugged him. You laughed humorlessly and nodded your head.
“Of course. Of course you did. I saw you in every pair of brown eyes I looked into since we broke up.” You admitted. That was the enough to break the dam and Peter found himself unable to contain his feelings any longer.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about everything. All the missed dates and calls I didn’t return. All the nights I left you waiting until you fell asleep next to the plate you left out for me. And for leaving the way I did. You deserved so much better than what I gave you.”
“Wow.” You cracked a smile. “Look who’s found his words.”
“I know they’re late. But better late than never, right?” He said with a self deprecating smile.
“Never would’ve been okay with me.”
“Really? You would’ve been okay if we never saw each other again? Even just to tell me off about how much of an asshole I was?”
“But that’s the thing, Peter. You weren’t an asshole. You were a good guy who was dealing with something I couldn’t help you with. You went about it in the shittiest way possible, but you were right to end our relationship. You clearly couldn’t be in one at the time. And I don’t think you realized that until you were writing on that post-it.”
Peter stared at you in stunned silence for a moment. It was just like you to humanize him, even after he’d hurt you in ways that changed you to your core. He looked away in shame, knowing he was nowhere near as evolved as you were.
“You could always read me like no one else could.” He said quietly.
“I thought I could. But I still don’t know what it was that you were going through. I tried to figure it out, but I never did discover the cause of the wedge between us.” You said, causing him to look back at you. You had a look on your face that brought his mind back to a picture of you he’d seen at your mom’s house. In the picture, you were just a kid, staring at the ocean with a life jacket twice the size of you. The same curious but fearful look on your face was present now.
“There was only one reason I left.” Peter said before he could stop himself. You looked at him like you were trying to decide if he was messing with you or not. Peter felt anxiety in his chest, recognizing this as the last moment you would ever see him in this way. Instead of telling you and going through the motions of you not believing him, he shot a web at a hairbrush on your floor and handed it to you. Your eyes went back and forth between the hairbrush and Peter about a hundred times. Finally, you slowly peeled the web off the back of the brush and held it up to give it a good look.
“You’re joking.” You said finally, no humor in your voice.
“I’m not.” Peter shook his head.
“Do it again.” You demanded and dropped the web into the trash. So Peter did it again, this time at your hand towel. He caught it with ease before handing it to you, which turned out to be a big mistake.
“You’re Spider-Man? You’re the fucking Spider-Man?” You asked as you smacked his shoulder with the towel. He let you hit him a few times before snatching the towel away from you.
“I am.”
“And you have been the whole time? Even when we were together?” You asked him as you visibly processed what you had just seen.
“Since before we got together.” He told you, making you start your processing all over. Your entire relationship played in your head and suddenly, all the missed dates on the night’s major crimes happened in the city made sense. You rubbed your face with your hands and sat in silence for a long time before looking at him.
“Is this why you left me? So I wouldn’t find out your secret?” You asked him in a quiet voice. Peter looked down in shame and nodded his head.
“The night I left, you and I got interviewed by the local news about our thoughts on the upcoming hurricane.”
“Oh my God. I forgot all about that.” You realized. “We were running to the bodega for ice cream. I had said I hoped we didn’t run into anyone we knew since I didn’t have my makeup on, and then we ended up on the news.”
“We did.” He smiled softly. “And in our interview, I said I was happy to have a girlfriend that buys too many blankets in case the power goes out.”
“I’m not following.”
“In that moment, I realized that if someone ever figured out my identity and wanted to hurt me, they could go after you. I called you my girlfriend on camera without even thinking about it. And all it would take is one person looking me up and seeing that video for you to be in danger. I couldn’t live myself knowing that dating you meant putting a target on your back.”
“So you threw us away because of a possibility?” You asked, sounding unsatisfied with his reasoning.
“It’s not just a possibility. Do you remember my Aunt May?” He asked you. You were about to ask what she had to do with your current conversation until you put two and two together. You did remember his Aunt May. More so, you remembered the way Peter never gave any definitive details on how she died.
“She knew about my secret and got too involved, and it got her killed. So it wasn’t just a possibility to me. It felt like it was only a matter of time before you got hurt or even worse because of me.”
“I didn’t know.” You said quietly.
“I didn’t want you to ever know. That’s why I wrote you the note on the post-it and left in the middle of the night. I thought if you hated me, you’d never come looking for me. And that would keep you safe.”
The change in perspective made the room spin slightly. You gripped the cold counter to ground yourself as your knees threatened to give out. Peter could tell you were struggling and stepped closer to you. He gently rested his hands on your waist to steady you. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and gave him a small appreciative smile.
“But what about now? Why tell me now?”
“Because you deserve to know the truth.” He said. “And it’s been so many years since we dated that we’re not gonna get back together. So there’s not really any harm in you knowing now.”
“But, just out of curiosity, does my knowing mean that now we can never be together?” You asked with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Peter’s eyebrows knit together, feeling apprehensive to read into your question.
“Why do you ask?” He asked as struggle to keep his gaze from falling to your lips. You reached up and gently ran your fingernails on his cheek, causing him to instantly melt into your touch. Peter hesitantly reached up and wrapped a hand gently around your wrist.
“Because I’m starting to forget all the reasons I cried at your hands.” You admitted to him through a sad laugh. Peter mirrored your melancholy smile and tilted your face towards his by taking your chin between his fingers. You stared into his eyes and felt his familiar magnetic force pulling you into him.
“You’re not gonna kiss me.” You shrugged with a knowing look in your eyes.
“I’m not?” He played coy.
“You’re not.” You said most assuredly. “Peter Parker is too much of a gentleman to kiss a girl when she’s drunk.”
“It’s true.” He chucked. “And it definitely has nothing to do with the entire bag of Cool Ranch Doritos I saw you house down and then puke up.“
You leaned into him while you laughed and Peter wrapped two arms around you. He held you tightly and placed a kiss on the top of your head, noting that you used to same shampoo you did when you were together.
“That’s a good call. I don’t want to kiss you when I can feel those Doritos seeping out of my pores.” You told him as you pressed your cheek into his shoulder and gently swayed with him.
“Yeah.” He chuckled softly. “But I’d like to. You have no idea how much I’d like to.”
“I have some idea.” You told him as you pulled away and unabashedly stared at his lips. Peter leaned in but instead of kissing you, he grabbed the bottle of makeup remover from behind you and held it up.
“How about I do you even better and take your makeup off for you?” He asked. You threw your arms up in celebration and profusely nodded your head. Peter found your cotton balls and gently removed your makeup for you while you sat with your eyes shut and a content smile. When he finished, he went the extra mile and did your skincare for you. He’d seen you do it enough times back when you were dating that he was able to follow it the way you did. When he finished, he scooped you up off the counter and carried you out of the bathroom.
“Come on. I’m putting you to bed so it can be the morning faster.” He told you as he brought you to the room with your name marked on the door. Your laughter rang through your room as he gently placed you in your bed. You mumbled something incoherent once your head hit the pillow, already half asleep. Peter went to leave, but you caught his wrist and tugged him back.
“Hey, Spider-Man.” You said in a playfully demanding voice.
“Yes?” Peter chuckled. You seemed wide awake all the sudden and looked into his eyes.
“Are you gonna be there when I wake up this time?” You asked him, sounding completely serious.
“I’ll be there.” He promised you with no intention to disappoint you again. You smiled at him and rested your head back on your pillow, seeming to accept his answer.
“There’s a blanket on the couch you can use. There’s a lot, actually. I still buy too many. Goodnight Peter.” You said, eyes already shutting.
“Goodnight, honey.” Peter kissed his fingers and touched them to your forehead, not wanting to overstep but unable to just walk away.
When you woke up, Peter was gone. Your head was throbbing as you stared at the empty couch with a pit in your stomach. Before your heart could fully sink, you noticed the yellow post-it Peter had left on a newly folded blanket. Your hands shook as you picked it up, but it proved to be entirely different from the last time he left you a post-it.
“Went to get coffee around the block :)” He had penned in the same handwriting he once used to leave you. You cracked a smile at his risky joke just as Peter was coming back into your apartment with keys he had taken from the bowl by the door. He had two coffees in hand and a sleepy smile on his face.
“Good morning.” He greeted you as you walked over to him. “I took a guess at your order. I hope you still like-“
You cut him off by throwing your arms around him and kissing him, bringing you a feeling neither of you thought you would ever feel again.
“Oh, sorry. I thought you were Kelly.” You smiled teasingly when you pulled out of the kiss. Peter rolled his eyes to the ceiling before pulling you into another kiss.
“You were right about the coffee shop guy. He was very nice and gave me a scone when I said the coffee was for you.” Peter said as you walked to the kitchen together. You gasped in excitement and pulled the scone out of the little bag it was in before taking a big bite.
“Hey, you’re splitting that with me.” Peter warned you and pulled you by the waist towards him.
“I’m sorry.” You said with a mouthful of scone. “I can’t. Don’t hate me.”
Tag List 🏷️
This was loosely based on “In My Head” by Nell Mescal and Sex and The City! 🍔
This one is on the shorter side, but bite size can be fun too
Summary: Garrett’s sister makes questionable decisions during karaoke night and sort of exposes her and Dean’s secret
Warnings: drunk!reader, secret situationship
After an hour, the three raspberry margaritas you had chained with Allie were starting to hit and the karaoke stage was calling your name. You debated for a long time which song to pick. Ariana Grande was calling your name, but you didn’t master the whistle note. You almost chose something from Taylor Swift’s immense catalogue, but went for the latter’s Eras Tour first act instead.
Hannah and Allie cheered as Jules announced you as the next performer.
You walked up the small stage, trying to not stumble on the way, and took the mic. The music quickly began and you had to suppress your giggles.
‘’I get wet at the thought of you,’’ you sang, the first line echoing in the diner. ‘’Being a responsible guy. Treating me like you're supposed to do. Tears run down my thighs.’’
You continued singing and fully committing to your flirty little act as you searched for Dean in the crowd. He hadn’t called you in over a week, so you wanted to remind him of what he was missing. It was much easier than to call him first.
Needless to say, Dean hadn’t expected that. One second he was watching some sophomore butcher a classic rock song on karaoke. The next, you were up there in your figure hugging corset top, mic in hand, and singing like Madona’s Just like a prayer music video.
His pants may have tightened the moment those first lyrics left your lips.
‘’A little respect for women can get you very, very far. Remembering how to use your phone gets me oh so, oh so, oh so hot. Considering I have feelings, I'm like, "Why are my clothes still on?". Offering to do anything, I'm like, "Oh my God".’’ You bit your finger in a flirty way as you locked eyes with Dean, then flipped your hair.
It was a blessing that Garrett had left for the bathroom because he would not have liked your performance. At all. Especially who it was intended for.
‘’I get wet at the thought of you.’’ You pointed at Dean who was shaking his head amusedly, flirting right at him through every line like an open challenge wrapped in sugar and sass. ‘’Being a responsible guy. Treating me like you're supposed to do. Tears run down my thighs.’’
You kept your gaze on him through the chorus, swaying dramatically to the music.
‘’I get wet at the thought of you. Being a responsible guy. Treating me like you're supposed to do. Tears run down my thighs…dancebreak.’’
And you really did take a dance break, taking Allie’s hand and dancing with her and then moving to Hannah, the two girls equally tipsy.
Logan whistled low under his breath beside Dean, his eyes following your moves. ‘’Damn. Didn’t know little Graham had it in her.’’
Tucker hit Logan’s shoulder. ‘’Don’t let G hear that if you want to stay in the team. You know what he said about her.’’
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figure skater x dean where she goes on a date and realize she still loves dean
I have a LONG list of fics to write and I'm so excited about it! Tucker and Garrett are on that list if you were wondering
Summary: You and Dean broke up. You get in another relationship in the hope of getting over him, but when The Fifth Line announce that Dean gets injured at a game, you run to him
Warnings: mention of naked men, implied cheating
You thought you were doing the right thing. You thought seeing other guys would help you get over him. But as you sat at a fancy restaurant with one of Briar’s most promising football athletes, you had never been as uninterested as you were right now. He was good looking, sweet and attentive, but he didn’t make you want to stop time.
You actually wanted the night to end.
The waiter set down your plates, wishing you a nice evening before leaving.
‘’Are you coming to the game on Friday? My dad is gonna be here, so I was thinking we could go eat somewhere after. You, me…and him.’’
Your fork stopped halfway to your plate. ‘’You want me to meet your dad?!’’
‘’Yeah,’’ Miles replied simply. ‘’Do you not want to? Is it too soon? I would understand if—’’
You shook your head. ‘’No! I want to,’’ you said, forcing a smile.
Miles smiled back at you. ‘’Then it’s settled.’’
Fuck. What did you get yourself into?
You leaned back slightly in your chair, suddenly very aware of how tight the restaurant felt around you. The soft piano music, the clinking glasses, the warm lighting — it all felt too much for a night you didn’t even want to be in anymore.
Miles was still smiling, eager that you were going to meet his dad. He had been thinking about showing you off to his family for weeks. A talented, beautiful girl like you. It was a massive upgrade from the last girl he brought home in high school.
‘’Friday’s gonna be big,’’ he added, cutting into his food. ‘’Coach is already talking about the playoffs. If we win, we pretty much lock in our ranking.’’
‘’Right,’’ you said automatically, picking at your food.
Miles noticed the shift in your attention.
‘’You okay?’’ he asked, reaching over the table and stroking your hand. ‘’You’ve been kind of…far away tonight.’’
You blinked, removing your hand and hiding it under the table. ‘’Yeah. I’m fine.’’
He didn’t look convinced. ‘’You sure? Because it kinda feels like I’m talking to you, but you’re somewhere else.’’
You gave a small laugh that didn’t land right. ‘’I’m just tired, Miles. I’ve been at the rink all afternoon.’’
‘’Sorry. I forgot. How is the new program going?’’
Back when you were with Dean, you loved talking about your program and all the different figures you had to learn or perfect for the next showcase. He surprisingly knew the difference between a lutz and a flip. Sometimes, you would skate together after everyone left the arena, showing off figures and having races around the rink. It often ended with heavy kissing against the boards…with a little groping or shower sex, but that was a secret.
‘’Good.’’
The answer came out flat.
Miles waited, like he expected more.
When nothing followed, he smiled awkwardly and took another bite of his dinner.
You hated yourself a little for it. He was trying. He was always trying. He remembered your competitions. Asked about your classes. Showed up with coffee when you had early practices. Any girl would be lucky to have someone like him.
When you began seeing each other, conversations were easy and you were genuinely looking forward to spending time with him. You weren’t thinking about Dean anymore. Only Miles.
But that changed when you saw him at the arena a few days ago. He was laughing with Tucker as they headed to the locker room to change into their practice gear. His blue eyes crossed yours and you almost walked into a glass door… You even had a dream about him last night.
An uncomfortable silence settled between you as you continued to eat quietly. Miles was trying to find something to talk about, but he could feel that you weren’t entirely with him.
Your phone buzzed against your thigh.
The sound nearly made you jump.
Without thinking, you pulled it out, seeing a notification from The Fifth Line’s Instagram.
The Fifth Line: #66 Di Laurentis taken off ice by medics 🚨🩺 Doubt he’ll be back for the rest of the game!
Your heart sank to your stomach. Medics. That meant Dean was hurt. Small injuries were common in hockey — a nosebleed, a fall that turned into a bruise, etc. —, but if Jules wrote that he won’t be back to finish the game, it must be serious.
You went to text Hannah about the game, trying to know more, but remembered she was working tonight and not attending.
Still, your thumb was already opening Instagram. The post had only been up for three minutes. A blurry photo showed Dean being escorted down the tunnel by the team's trainer. Even from a distance, you could see blood smeared along the side of his face.
Your chest tightened.
‘’Everything okay?’’ Miles asked, raising an eyebrow.
You looked up so quickly that you nearly dropped your phone. ‘’Yeah.’’
The lie came automatically.
His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘’Are you sure?’’
No. You weren't alright.
Because the possibility of Dean being hurt had completely derailed your evening. Because you had spent the last hour pretending you wanted to be here. Because Miles was talking about introducing you to his father while all you could think about was another guy bleeding in a medic room.
‘’I have to go. I’m sorry,’’ you declared, standing from your chair and grabbing your jacket.
Miles blinked, clearly caught off guard. ‘’Wait, what?’’
You were being unfair. Horribly unfair. But staying here felt impossible.
‘’I'm sorry,’’ you repeated, already slinging your purse over your shoulder.
His chair scraped against the floor as he stood too, about to follow you, but you ran out of the restaurant before he could, the image of Dean being led off the ice burned into your brain.
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
When you made it to the arena, the game was over and people were leaving. Your concern for Dean clouded your judgement as you headed to the locker room.
Please be okay. Please be okay.
You pulled the door open and slipped in, laughter, music and the smell of sweat and equipment hitting you immediately.
You opened your mouth to call Dean’s name, but stopped in your tracks. The room was full of naked hockey players. Some had a towel wrapped around them, but some had their dick on full display.
‘’Oh my god.’’
A few of them turned, but not many bothered hiding their nudity.
‘’Bunnies are not allowed in the locker room,’’ one of them said.
‘’She’s not a bunny, she’s Di Laurentis’s ice princess,’’ another one corrected, recognizing you.
‘’Garrett!’’ you called, catching him come out of the shower with, thankfully, a towel around him.
His head snapped to you and he walked over. Judging by your dress and heels, you hadn’t been in the stands cheering for the team. He ran a hand through his shower-damp hair. ‘’Hey, what are you doing here?’’
Before you could say anything, a voice came from the showers.
‘’Hey, G, did you steal Birdie’s shampoo? He’s moaning about it.’’
And there was the man you were looking for, half-dripping wet with a towel slung low on his hips. Upon seeing you, a cocky smirk curled on his face.
‘’Well, this is a surprise,’’ Dean pointed out, standing before you with his glistening wet chest. ‘’I haven’t seen you here in a while.’’
Your eyes stopped at his face where a steri-strips bandaid was taped on his right cheekbone. The skin around it was red and irritated, a faint trace of dried blood visible along the edges of the cut. Was this what had caused all that blood on the ice? Had you rushed to the arena over a cut that barely seemed serious?
‘’I know. I saw what happened on the ice. I just…wanted to check in on you,’’ you replied, suddenly feeling foolish.
Dean raised an eyebrow. ‘’You were at the game? In that dress? I don’t think so.’’
He caught you there.
You sighed. ‘’Okay, fine. I wasn’t at the game.’’
‘’Where’s Mike?’’
‘’Miles,’’ you corrected. ‘’And that’s none of your business.’’
‘’I take it Mr. Football doesn’t know you’re here.’’
‘’Can we not talk about Miles—’’
‘’What are you doing here, princess?’’ Dean asked, stepping closer and lifting your chin. ‘’Because no one runs off from their boyfriend to see their ex without a reason.’’
Fuck.
How did he even know you ran here?
‘’Look, I’m not going to call Giles and snitch on you. I just want you to tell me why you’re here — no bullshit —, because I think we both know what you’re avoiding to say.’’
‘’His name is Miles—’’
‘’It doesn’t change anything.’’
You held his gaze for a moment, refusing to look away first. The stubborn certainty in his eyes only fueled your frustration, until the words you'd spent months swallowing rose to the surface.
‘’You’re right,’’ you snapped, the confession tearing out of you before you could stop it. ‘’Because no matter what I do or who I see, it always comes back to you. I can’t get you out of my head. Is that what you want to hear, Dean? That I never stopped loving you?’’
The locker room fell silent.
Even the guys still half-naked and toweling off froze, eyes darting between you and Dean like they had just walked into a dramatic movie scene.
The corner of Dean's lips twitched, looking pleased like the cat that caught the bird. Then, barefoot on the wet tile and blond hair dripping from the shower, he leaned down and kissed you.
Behind you, the team was forgotten. Miles? Erased from existence right then and there. All noise in the world was drowned out by Dean’s mouth on yours and the familiar scent of his expensive shampoo. You pulled him closer by his shoulders, his chest flush against you as waterdrops were falling on your jacket and dress.
Dean nad his girl being loud in bed and being confronted about it
Longer fics are coming, but for now let's go with this little blurb
Summary: You and Dean get called out for being loud in bed
Warnings: mention of sex, mention of moaning and other sounds,
The boys lost count of how many times they’ve heard or walked in on you and Dean having sex. In the shower, in the kitchen, on the couch, the pool table, the backyard, and even in Dean’s room. That one was entirely Tucker’s fault for walking in without knocking, though. They already had to deal with their roommate’s shameless nudity and lack of care for closing doors, this sex thing was getting too much.
All heads turned toward the door when the one they were all waiting for walked in with you over his shoulder while announcing that you would be ready for the gym session in about an hour or so.
‘’Wait up, Don Juan. You didn’t get my texts?’’ Logan called out from the living room where he, Garrett and Tucker were sitting. ‘’I said house meeting at 4pm.’’
With his other hand, Dean checked his phone, seeing Logan’s message. He had read it. He just brushed it off when you called and asked to have late lunch together.
‘’That was a serious thing?’’
‘’Yes,’’ replied Logan.
‘’Since when do we do house meetings?’’
‘’Since now.’’
Dean glanced at you, then back to Logan. ‘’Can we raincheck? Because we were supposed to—’’
‘’No,’’ all three boys said at the same time.
A beat of silence followed and Dean set you down. He didn’t carry you through campus like that. Just up the stairs of the house after you mentioned that you were wearing a brand new lingerie set.
You looked between them, then back to Dean. ‘’It’s okay. I can go wait upstairs.’’
‘’Actually,’’ Garrett cut in. ‘’This is about you too.’’
A frown drew between your eyebrows. You didn’t even live there.
‘’Mostly him,’’ Tucker corrected, pointing at Dean. ‘’But you're involved.’’
Was this about the box of cookies you finished and put back in the cupboards the other night? Or the hair in the shower? Because Logan always complained about the clogged shower drain and having to fix it. As if they didn’t all have hair too…
Without asking questions, you followed Dean to the couch and sat down.
‘’What did we do?" the latter asked, wanting to get this over with quickly.
The three roommates exchanged looks.
Then Tucker threw his hands in the air. ‘’You have got to stop treating this house like it's a honeymoon suite.’’
‘’We're all happy you found each other. Great. Wonderful. Love that for you,’’ Logan continued, explaining what Tucker meant. ‘’But some of us would like to walk into our own kitchen without wondering if we're about to see something that’s gonna make us regret that 11pm cereal craving.’’
Dean laughed. ‘’You guys are being dramatic.’’
‘’Am I?’’ Tucker shot back, raising a dark eyebrow.
‘’You’re worse than rabbits during mating season.’’
‘’Don’t compare my girlfriend to a rodent,’’ Dean warned Logan, pointing a finger at him.
You shrugged. ‘’I take no offense. Rabbits are cute and very intelligent little beings.’’
‘’And stop leaving doors open,’’ Garrett added. ‘’We already have to see it in the locker rooms, we don’t need more exposure to your naked self.’’
‘’Fine. I’ll close the bathroom door when I shower. Are we done?’’
‘’No.’’
Dean slouched deeper into the couch, one arm draped around your shoulders. ‘’Fine. Continue your presentation.’’
‘’Thank you.’’ Logan pointed at him. ‘’Second issue: the noise.’’
Dean opened his mouth to protest again, but Logan raised a hand, silencing him with the kind of authority usually reserved for coaches and angry mothers.
Garrett nodded gravely beside him like this was an official courtroom testimony. ‘’The noise,’’ he repeated.
You knew the walls were thin, but once you were in the moment you kind of forget about it. And it’s not like there’s innocent ears in the house. You were all adults with an active sex life. You’ve heard girls moaning and their gruntings from all of the bedrooms.
‘’Don’t act all innocent,’’ you said, your eyes falling on Logan. ‘’Dean’s room is right next to yours. We can hear you too.’’
At that, Dean squeezed your thigh proudly. Under your sweet appearance, there was a girl who didn’t bite her tongue.
‘’Do you want to hear the playback? Because I can—’’ the blond added, loving how the tables had turned around.
‘’That won’t be necessary,’’ Logan interrupted, making the other boys laugh.
Dean grinned, that cocky, unbothered smirk he wore like a second skin. ‘’See? She's got a point. We're not the only ones being loud in this house.’’
Tucker rubbed his temples like he was suddenly aging ten years per minute. This house meeting was not going anywhere…
Hey my beautiful MK angel 😇 could i get some Cole breeding/praise HC's please? I beg of you
GOD OKAY I-
NSFW UNDER THE CUT ~
Things Cole Young says to you while he's fucking you:
🐉 Calls you a "good girl" while he's balls deep, voice hoarse in your ear.
🐉 Holds your face to make you look at him when you're overwhelmed and tells you how well you're doing, how good your pussy feels-
"You're doing so well, baby, look at you," Cole murmurs, his hand clutching your chin, "You're so tight, so good for me."
🐉 Cole loves to bury his face in your neck and nip and lick at your skin, stifling his own moans against you. When he's overwhelmed, he's whispering curses and little praises into your skin-
"Fuck-" Cole pauses to suck at the sensitive flesh of your neck and suppresses a moan against you, "I'm gonna fill you up and-" he groans as you clench around him, "you'll go back out there with my cum running down your leg."
🐉 BREEDING KINK COLE IS JUST- 🙏 telling you he wants to fuck a baby into you, staying buried to the hilt while he empties every last drop inside you. He runs his thumb up your soaked slit and pushes his cum back inside you when it spills out.
🐉 Likes to take you from behind when you're face down and ass up, just gripping your hips until he finishes. When he pulls out, he just watches your swollen, cum-filled pussy and before he knows it, he's hard again.
🐉 Cole could definitely pick a day and just....stay in bed and fuck you for hours. The man's got stamina.
you need ryland grace inspo? Im thinking about those slutty glasses if his. Imagine going with him for his next eye test. His prescription has changed so he needs new glasses.
Imagine helping him pick which frames look best, and he’s getting more and more flustered under your scrutinising stare, and he gets pinker and pinker as you compliment how his nose looks sooo good in that pair, or how he looks sooo pretty in that pair…
and maybe he’ll want to you to tell him which pair looks best on him whenever he’s looking up at you from between your thighs, squeezing at your hips hard to keep your gaze focused on him, getting you all worked up just to stop and switch frames and ask again “what about these ones, baby?”
and i’d bet he’d be glad he got that eye test because now he can see your pretty expressions that much clearer! (Even through the lenses keep getting all fogged up!)
just some food for thought.
Ryland is an adult who teaches middle school children’s science, and pays his taxes every year. Yet he’s nervous to go to the eye doctor without you.
Maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. More like shy, or timid is a better fit.
Going to the eye doctor literally means someone telling you “yeah your eyes suck, but here’s a nifty invention that can help you see better for 40 dollars!!” So you can understand his resentment.
You both make it into a big day event thing. Going to have lunch afterwards and maybe a walk in the park later, ice cream included.
But that’s only if Ryland can actually pick out a pair of glasses.
“Do you like these?”
You turn to face him. Ryland’s wearing a gray shirt that says something about schrödinger’s cat’s escape plan. It fits just a little too tight around his muscles, meaning his biceps are on full display. But oh right— the glasses.
“I like you.”
Ryland snorts and looks down, already taking that pair off and setting it back on a hook. “Well that’s very kind but I’m not asking about me.”
“I liked the other pair on you better.”
He takes a step back and points at the previous pair. They look a lot like his normal glasses, but this time they have a wire of gold around the rim.
“Yeah, you look so pretty in those.”
Rylands eyes dart to yours, he studied your face for a moment, waiting for you to take back your words but you never do. Of course not. You mean them.
“Okay, I’ll think about those. What about these?”
He tried on another pair, but all you can focus on is how they immediately slip down the bridge of his nose, finding a home further down.
“They’re adorable.”
“Yeah but how do they make my face look?”
He gestures around to his head, waving his hand around his eyes and you can’t help but smile.
“Beautiful. I really like those. It brings out your gorgeous eyes.”
Ryland scoffs. You have to be messing with him. But when he pull on another pair of glasses your answers never vary. Always “pretty,” or “Gorgeous.” “Beautiful,”or “Handsome.” Even “stunning.” Ryland flushes at the thought that you’re doing this automatically. There’s no thoughts going on in your head other than the truth.
And the truth was he’s pretty.
“Ry?”
You come up behind him while he’s looking down at his old glasses, trying to compare two different sets to each other.
“Hm?”
“Why do you care what I think? They’re your glasses. You’re the one wearing them.”
Ryland shrugs, his answer is immediate. “You’re the one going to have to see me in them all the time.”
He’s not wrong, but the most comfortable thing would be wearing whatever makes him happy. That would make you even happier than he was just by picking out what he liked.
“Think we could try these out later?”
“Pardon?” You ask.
“Nothing.”
“No, no. C’mon, tell me.” You’re only making him repeat it because you couldn’t hear him the first time. Whispering like he’s suddenly embarrassed.
“Do you think theres anti-fog spray here?”
You look around, your eyes catching some near the corner. “Yeah. Probably a ton. Why?”
“Nothing.” Ryland shakes his head and turns back to figuring out which pair words best. But silence and lingering with your thoughts only make you understand what he was insinuating.
“Grace.” You pinch near his hip and he squirms away. He won’t admit it but there’s a proud smile on his face.
“What. There are other reasons glasses fog up! And now I’ll finally be able to see every freckle and mole on your body. Even the one where—”
You pinch him again, looking around to make sure nobody heard. He was flustering you now. The roles were usually reversed.
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