#jay.writes

You and Jack had been on and off for almost a year now and Steve had to watch the daft fool play around with your feelings constantly, treating you like an afterthought, being late for dates, forgetting plans, ditching you for friends, and so on.

Steve doesn't know what you see in him but he has to be supportive for your sake. And be there when things go sideways, as they often did with Jack. Why couldn't you see that Jack was so wrong for you? He bites his tongue.

He follows you out into the living room of your shared loft with Robin and Eddie. “You got any plans?” you ask him, glancing at the clock to see how long you had left.

He tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, shaking his head. “Probably gonna watch a movie with Robin. Eddie’s out for practice.”

“Do not watch Ferris Bueller without me,” you warn and he throws you a two finger salute paired with a smirk that has you clearing your throat.

Robin walks out of her room, in some old sweats and a jacket that belonged to Steve at some point. “Oooooooh, hot date?” she asks, nodding at you approvingly as you make a show of twirling in your new dress.

“She thinks it’s the date,” Steve answers for you, exchanging a hard to decipher look with Robin. You swear they had a whole language of their own.

“Oh?” One of Robin’s brows quirk up as she looks from Steve to you, and back to Steve. You nod lightly, before grabbing your little bag.

“I’ll get going, then,” you took a deep breath, walking toward the door. 

Steve gives you a semi-hug, squeezing you lightly,” You got this, babe.”

“Call us if you need anything,” Robin instructs and you smile, waving at your friends as you leave with a fluttering stomach and a pounding heart.

Steve watches you leave with a sad smile on his face and spends the next hour pacing, unable to calm himself down. Robin doesn’t say anything, offering him a hug as she watches him torture himself with the thoughts of your night out.

Eddie walks in, not longer after and Robin fills him in via inaudible mumbles. Eddie offers him an empathetic smile and Steve shrugs it off, “Stop looking at me like that! I’m fine! As long as she’s happy, y’know.”

The metalhead ruffles his hair affectionately, and is met with protests immediately. “Could you not? The hair is off limits, Munson. You know this.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll take a quick shower then.” He retreats to his room in slow steps.

“Don’t drown in there,” Steve mumbles sarcastically.

“I heard that!” 

“You were supposed to,” Steve grins, though Eddie can’t see him. 

He spends the rest of the evening alternating between mindless scrolling on his phone (his gallery specifically, for the candids of you) and begrudgingly reading that book you recommended him to read with a red headed teenage protagonist called Anne. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone just how invested he was in poor Anne’s tragically romantic life.

He checks the wall clock for the time. Almost 9 o’clock. Maybe he should call it a night. He puts the book down, wiping his hands on his thighs over the denim pants he had on. There’s a thud at the door and Steve whips his head to it immediately. The key turns from the outside and the door is pushed open slowly. 

“Honey?” Steve asks, looking at your shaking hands and sad eyes, getting up immediately. 

“Mhmm, it’s me,” you mumble, eyes darting on the floor, not daring to meet his.

“You’re back?” Robin enters the room. You don’t respond, closing the door behind you. “Are you…okay?” She asks, although it is evident you are not.

“‘M fine,” your voice is clipped, a little hoarse, beelining for your room.

Steve reaches for you, hand outstretched, “Honey…” You ignore him, breathing in slowly. “What happened-?”

“Toots! How was the big date? I thought it’d be a full night thing, no nightcap?” Eddie walks in cheerfully, drying his messy curls with a towel, blissfully unaware of the room and its energy.

That seemed to do it.

You burst out, “Since you’re all so curious, he basically said I’m unloveable and hard to even put up with an aggressive and combative and dramatic and that no one could or would ever love me. Are you satisfied now?” 

Silence. You take this silence as a chance to stalk towards your room and slam the door shut as soon as you’re inside.

Eddie is the first one out of the stupor,” What the fuck?”

Steve feels himself burn up with rage. Fucking Jack. He better fucking sleep with one eye fucking open or Steve was going to mess him stupid face up so-

Robin nudges his shoulder. “Murder later. Now go after her, doofus.”

She was right. He rushes to your door and knocks on it "Honey? Can I please come in?" He’s met with silence.

“Baby?" he tries again.

"Go away." A sniffly sentence that makes him pout at your closed door.

"I will stay out here all night if you don't let me in. Give me two minutes of your time, please?"

The door unlocks. Steve lets himself in, heart tightening at the sight in front of him. you in your lovely floral dress you'd brought out just for this date. For that dick. And your beautiful eyes filled with tears and your mascara smudged. There's a pinch between your brows he'd find adorable in a different situation.

He opens his arms and looks at you, and just as he’d known you jump into his embrace, koala-like in your posture, clinging onto him. 

He hugs back with just as much feeling, making sure to be gentle.

He's not sure how long you stood there together, his legs ached a little bit but he waited for you to move.

"Do you want to sit?" he asked. He felt a nod of your head, still buried in his chest. "Alright..." he moved you both carefully, seating himself at the edge of the bed with you next to him.

The new position gave him the opportunity to look at your face. "Hi honey" he says, raising a hand to your face, wiping a stray tear away.

You lean into the touch, humming.

"That asshole doesn't deserve you, you know that right?"

You shrug at this. He doesn't like the response one bit. "Surely you can't believe anything he said" Steve scoffs. "He's literally called Jack. you can't trust a j name!"

That makes you smile a little, but it goes down very quickly. "What if I am, Stevie?"

"Are what?" his eyebrows crinkle.

"Unloveable. what if nobody ever-"

He doesn't let you finish. "Let me stop you right there. You're not unloveable. Or anything he said. You're fucking sunshine, baby. You make sure everyone around you’s happy and are so caring and loving and that prick can only dream of having half the love you have in this little finger of yours." he says, eyes looking at yours while he entwined his pinky with yours.

"You really think so?" Your voice is so soft that Steve could cry.

"I know so, honey." he brings your palm to his lips, leaving a quick peck there. 

It’s been weeks since the night Jack broke your heart, and you seemed to be feeling better. Finally.

Steve was done watching you pine after an idiot that didn’t know what he had. If it were him, he’d treat you the way you deserved to be treated. 

He’d dote on you with hugs and kisses, and wake you up to pretty flowers and breakfast in bed…and maybe some other things in bed. His cheeks flush as he’s pulled out of his daydreams by a smirking Robin.

“Are you done fantasizing about Y/N? Or do you need some more tim-?” 

Steve shoves her away, hushing her loudly as he watches you look up from your book on the couch. When you smile at him, he sighs audibly. Thank god you hadn’t heard Robin’s big mouth.

“Could you just shhh, she’s right here!” he’s exasperated and Robin just snorts, shrugging as if to say that’s why she does it.

He sticks out his tongue at her and she shoves at him which he gladly returns. “Children, children, children,” Eddie pipes up, looking up from his absentminded strumming of his beloved guitar,” Daddy’s working.”

“Shut up, Eddie,” they say simultaneously and you giggle at their antics.

Your eyes catch Steve’s warm ones and you feel a smile break out as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Movie?” you mouth at him and he shrugs a yes, knowing full well you were going to pick Pretty Woman yet again. Even if you’d both watched it so many times that you could quote it verbatim.

He gestured to the others in the room, asking if you wanted them to accompany you. You shook your head. You know it was a little mean, but selfishly you wanted him all to yourself. 

The way it was when it was just the two of you, holding hands and intertwining fingers, before teenage angst ruined it all. Before King Steve ever made an appearance. When you could be close without having to have feelings for one another.

That’s not to say you didn’t though. You had the biggest crush on him when you were both thirteen. And maybe for a couple years after that. You tell yourself that it was just a childish feeling, nothing worth remembering. Nothing worth losing sleep over.

So, you shrug it off everytime the feeling gnaws at your heart threatening to bubble over the surface when he smiles at you with that perfect mouth, his whole face lighting up as he calls you those lovely nicknames that you didn’t deserve.

You yawn loudly, shutting your book with a snap. Robin looks at you,” Tired already?”

“Mhmm,” you nod as convincingly as you could, “I think I'll go to bed now.” You walk out of the living room, calling behind you as you go. “Steve? Could you help me with something please?”

Steve thought it was so cute, if not a little overkill. You didn't want your friends to feel bad about your and Steve’s little movie night so you put up this little act. It never fooled anyone.

Eddie smirks at Steve as he gets up to follow you. “Help with something… Is that what the kids are calling it now?” Robin snickers along with him and Steve rolls his eyes, flipping them off before skipping to your room.

Shutting the door behind himself, he sees you already in bed, laptop on your lap as you set it up.

“Hi,” you smile at him, eyes warm and inviting. He feels his stomach flip a little. 

“Hi babe,” he grins back, taking his place next to you, an arm behind your back as you settle into his chest a little better. “Pretty Woman?”

“You know me so well,” you teased, hand coming to pinch his cheek. He leans into the touch, sighing.

Your palm rests on his cheek for a second too long and his breathing stops. Are you leaning in or is this wishful thinking?

Your breathing grows heavy as you observe the same face you've seen a thousand times. The twin moles on his neck look so inviting. Your thumb moves back and forth on his cheek as you get impossibly closer, almost a hair's breadth away.

Your phone lets out an ill-timed, “BEEP! BEEP!”

You startle. Laptop falling off your lap onto the mattress clumsily. You clear your throat and reach for your phone, avoiding Steve's eyes.

Steve, on the other hand, is still reeling and dazed, blinking at you as you check your phone, swiping the notifications away as you avoid his eyeline.

You clear your throat, “Should I start the movie?”

He nods quickly, settling back into your usual position, making sure to leave some space as he tries to focus on the screen.

He steals glances at your face as you watch the screen blankly. He wonders if you're thinking about what could have happened if your phone hadn't interrupted.

Would you have closed the gap between the two of you?

The movie continues playing as you slowly doze off, your head coming to rest on Steve's shoulder and he feels himself smile.

He wants to stay here forever.

The next morning, you woke out of your room, rubbing the last of the sleep in your eyes, hair wild and mouth open in a yawn when you find Steve sipping on his coffee on the counter.

He jumps down when he sees you approach, “Good morning, honey. Sleep well?” He gives you a one armed hug that you return gladly.

“Mhmm, I don't even remember falling asleep,” you get to making your own coffee.

“Ah, yeah. You dozed off pretty quick into the movie. Was cute,” he taps on your nose as you catch sight of his twin moles again.

You breathe in sharply as the moment from the night before flashes in your mind. You shake it away and take a step back. It was way too early for this.

You lift your chin to look at him just to find him already turned to you, an easy smile on his face, eyes crinkled in that sunshiney way of his. You feel your heart skip a beat and you feel it hit you like a thousand bricks. 

It’s Steve. Always has been.

Your quest for love and a dream guy to sweep you off your feet has always been pointless because there has always been Steve.

From sleepless nights and impromptu baking sessions together, to crying on his shoulder whenever you needed it. From your high school graduation to your first heartache, from getting your favourite plush for you at the arcade to cozy nights in, talking about everything and nothing for hours on end. It was always him.

How had you been so blind to what was right in front of you? 

You carry on with your day on autopilot, your mind filling through years of interactions, of cheesy nicknames and lingering touches- filling you with a giddiness only rivaled by Robin when she wins at monopoly.

You are almost entirely sure Steve loves you. But the tiny off chance that you’re making this up fills you with anxiety and you can’t decide how to go about this.

Your brand new revelation makes it so much harder to interact with Steve over the next couple of weeks. Sweet, sweet Steve with his pet names, and short sleeved tees that make you grind your teeth together.

You quickly realise how drawn to him you are in any room, no matter how crowded. You’re a moth to his flame. He seems just as drawn though, arms coming around you in friendly squeezes and forehead kisses that make your friends wiggle their brows at you. Had you been so oblivious all along?

Just last Tuesday, he maneuvered across your body to get to the counter in the kitchen, hand squeezing at your waist momentarily and you dropped the spoon in your hand. You can swear you saw Robin snort into her cereal as she watches you fumble like a middle schooler across what would have been a normal interaction two months before. 

At the party you’d gone to the weekend prior, he’s shown up in a zipped up jacket and jeans. You damn near lost your mind when he took the jacket off, revealing a snug black t-shirt. So basic yet so… good. You stuttered through your compliment to him, but he just smirked, “Drunk already, are we?” You’d played along, pretending to be drunker than you were so you’d have an excuse for the stuttering and the clinging to him and the giddiness that made you feel pretty drunk- so maybe you weren’t really lying.

So yeah, it has been an uphill battle and you feel like Tantalus, craving for something you want so, so bad. It’s right in front of you, but just out of reach by bare millimeters.

You could have probably put more effort into being subtle because it appears your friends suspect something, or at least you think they do. They’ve been dropping remarks and out of context statements to try and coax out a confession from you till it works.

Last night, she mentioned setting up Steve with one of her book club acquaintances in passing, insisting that they would work really well together when he rejected her proposal. You held your breath through the whole conversation, your mindless strumming on Eddie’s spare guitar pausing.

When Steve said he’d think about it and left for his room, Robin turned her eyes on you with a badly suppressed grin. “Everything okay, Y/n?”

You held back the urge to roll your eyes, nodding stiffly as Eddie laughed. “Leave the poor girl alone, Buckley. She’s only just getting there.”

“Getting where?” you played dumb.

Robin raised a singular brow at you, eyes darting towards Steve’s door and back at you and you spilled,” Fine! I’m getting there. In fact, I got here months ago and I feel like I’m in hell. I don’t know what to do with all these, these feelings now!”

She smiled like she’d won the lottery. “Just tell him! He’s so gone for you it’s insane. If I have to hear him sigh because you left the room one more time, I’ll kill myself in front of you. Eddie, tell her!”

“Are you completely sure?” you posed, a smile growing as the little doubt in you left you.

“Uh, is a T-rex physically stronger than a level 20 Barbarian?” he asked, excitement barely in check.

“...Yes?” you hazarded a guess, your smile blooming even wider in tandem with your roommates’. “But how do I even tell him or do I even tell him? Do I wait for him to-”

“Worry not, fair maiden, for I have a plan worthy of your everlasting love for the golden haired paladin down the hallwa-” 

“How many times have I told you not to talk in your weird dungeon master voice in normal situations. It freaks me out and is so unnecessary-” Robin interjects.

“Fine! Just say you hate metal and whimsy but whatever.” He turns to you,” I have a plan.”

And that’s exactly how you reached where you are right now, exactly two days later, in your best pair of jeans and the cute button up black top you got at the mall last august. You’re standing outside the cafe Steve is sitting at, waiting for his supposed blind date setup by Robin. You hope this wasn’t all a misread after misread of the situation. You hope you never lose him, especially not because of a can of worms you decided to open.

You peek in and catch sight of his nervous hands fiddling with the bracelet you’d got him last Christmas and somehow that was enough to convince you to finally walk in. You approach his table in slow and steady strides, and watch as his gaze rises up from your shoes and upward.

His face glowed with recognition, before settling on confusion. “Honey? What are you doing here?”

“Why? You want me to leave?” you feigned disappointment, pouting at him in a way that made his eyes linger on your glossy lips. You held in a sly smile as you smacked your lips together with a subtle pop, making him gulp.

“Wha- Of course not, I always want you around. S’ just, I’m supposed to be on a date…” he trails off, embarrassed,” But, I think I’m being stood up so seat’s all yours.” 

“You’re not being stood up, Steve,” you say, pulling your chair out to sit across from him.

” Well she’s not here, so.” He smiles dejectedly.

“She is,” you smile at him and he’s all confused puppy eyes, scrunched up eyebrows and adorably tilted head. All you want to do is kiss that pout off his mouth. 

He’s still looking at you puzzled when you give him a meaningful smile, reaching across the table to grab his hand with a gentle but firm squeeze. His face lights up like never before, pure sunshine as he breaks into the most cheesy smile you’d ever seen. “Robin did me a favour,” you shrugged as if it were nothing.

“Do you mean it? Really?” he questions, honey brown eyes earnest and pleading, giddy laugh almost spilling out.

even in his own head that word sounds insufficient, too small to define what you were to him, what you were together. too light to hold the weight of his chest the past days when he wasn't waking up to a funny picture from you.

so here he was, attempting to figure you out, ordering for two cups of coffee in your place of work, one for him and one for you.

he was oh so glad that it was a slow day in the cafe, him being the only one inside right now.

your coworker took the order, a tall brunette with pink streaks in her hair. she shot him a flirty smile as she asked him to wait for his drinks. he would probably have been more responsive if it were him from three months ago.

he tried peaking into the back room where you probably were but only caught the eyes of the barista watching him with a raised brow. "looking for someone, handsome?"

"uhm, no, just... looking around.”

she hummed, unconvinced. the door from behind her swung open and peter knew it was you before you spoke as the familiar thumping of your heart filled his ears.

"mia, you can take your break now," you said, smoothening your apron in front of you as you set his order on the table in front of you.

peter waited for you to look up at him, for that familiar moment of peace that washed over whenever you made eye contact. 

and then you did, looking up momentarily before you averted your gaze within seconds, mouth opened in a little gasp.

you cleared your throat, speaking before he could muster up a single word. "this your order?" 

"yeah, it is," he made an attempt at grabbing them before he was stopped by a hand on his. his eyes wander up to meet unfamiliar ones. 

mia, or whatever her name was, grinned and slid the drinks towards herself on the counter, grabbing a marker. 

oh no. he knew where this was going and immediately looked to you. he expected a reaction, some reaction. atleast a frown. 

you watched on as mia scribbled her number onto one of peter's cups, adding a heart at the end for good measure. you seemed so unbothered. like it was okay with you. how could it just be okay with you?

"call me," mia smiled at him before taking her apron off as she disappeared behind the doors of the room you came from.

peter extended a hand towards the cups, hesitant. he grabbed them in both hands but made no attempt to leave. you looked up to him curiously.

"i'm not gonna call her, you know?" he stated, clearing his throat. he waited for a response but recieved none.

so he continued, "aren't you gonna ask why?"

this time you spoke and he resisted an urge to break into a smile at your voice. 

"fine. i'll humour you. why?" it was short and plain, but he was not being silent treatmented anymore. he would take every win he got. 

"because i already have a girl."

"oh, good for you. is it brooke?" you tore a piece of tissue into pieces as you spoke.

"no! i meant yo- who's brooke?" he frowned slightly.

"the girl from your biochem class? she said you've been 'talking nonstop' and how she just can't wait for you to lose the deadweight in your life aka me so you could finally be her boyfriend!" your words were cold and bitter, a frown taking over you.

"what the fuck? deadweight? babe, she called you deadweight in my life?"

"peter, she said you called me that." 

"my baby, sweetheart, respectfully. what the fuck? you are not and will never be anything but the best thing to happen to me and anything who thinks or says otherwise is clinically insane." he leaned over the counter, fingers trailing up your chin as he picks it up. “brianna is definitely insane and deluded because i have never said a single word to her, let alone about being a boyfriend.”

you didn't say a word, processing his.

"so you believed a random girl saying random shit about my feelings? and didn't think to ask me?" his voice was gentle and soft.

"i, you just don't talk about your feelings a lot and i just, i don't know-" you stumbled over your words.

he jumped over the counter as if it was nothing, taking his hat off and placing it on your head. "i know i don't and i swear i'm trying. i'm trying to communicate and." his voice cracked. "you mean a hell of a lot to me, okay? and i don't care what crap you hear from anybody but you're the only girl in my life right now. and i really like you." his hands wrapped around your fingers, squeezing once, twice and a last time before raising them to place a featherlight kiss on them.

you gasped when he pulled you closer to his chest by your intertwined hands.

“you there?” he asked, nervous at your silence.

“yeah,” you breathed, “i am.”

“if i am ever had to be someone’s boyfriend, i would be yours. nobody else. ever. you got that?” his nose brushed yours ever so slightly. you moved forward to meet him in the middle but he moved away, “nuh uh, baby. tell me you got it, that you understand what i’m trying to say to you.”

“i do, peter, now let me just-” you breathed out in frustration as he grinned.

“in the holy place of your employment?” his forehead leaned against yours, eyes twinkling, mischievous. “scandalous.”

“i’ll show you scandalou-”

“patience,” he clicked his tongue, glancing at his watch. “your shift ends in… three, two and …one! now you’re free to have a cup of coffee with me as we talk a walk down the park.”

you bit your cheek, trying not to smile. “so the second one’s for me?” you asked, gesturing to the cups on the counter. 

“if you’ll have it,” he shrugged, as if it didn’t matter but his eyes told you everything.

“i think i will,” you grinned, squeezing his hand back.

“good choice,” he smiled, an infectious little smile, tugging up on one side. “the drink is also your favorite.” he handed it to you as you walked out.

“i know. i made it,” you curled a hand around his arm.

“so, you’re guaranteed to like it. and the weather’s perfect for a walk. peter parker, best date planner ever.”

“...date?” you asked, afraid to disrupt the peace.

he paused for a second and you had every intention of backtracking and laughing it off, to tell him it was already forgotten. but he seemed to be okay with the word, nodding, looking slightly nervous in a way he never did. “well, yeah! date, that is if you want one? with me?”

You all but jumped back in bed. This might be the only time he’d actually invite you to his bed for just cuddles the morning after and you wanted to savour every minute. 

Plus, he looked ridiculously attractive, the perfect combination of cute and hot with his mussed hair and shirtless torso littered with the marks you’d given him last night.

He pulled your body to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he sighed, one hand sneaking up under your his shirt. He kissed the expanse of your neck, every inch that he could reach- soft, lingering kisses that trailed to your jaw, that had you holding your breath when they landed so very close to your open mouth, onto your cheek.

He left another one on the same spot on your cheek, where they rounded slightly right under your eye and you whined, making him laugh into your skin.

“What do you want, baby?”

You grunt, not wanting to voice it and he bites your cheek lightly before withdrawing a little to reposition himself so he can be face-to-face with you. His lips linger in the space above your lips, breaths mingling and he asked again, “What do you want, baby?”

You don’t answer him, choosing to lift your head up to bridge the gap with a long kiss that didn’t stop until you broke apart for air, breathing heavily. Peter’s eyes didn’t leave yours when he connected your lips again, one palm coming up to rest on your jaw.

Before he could move to your neck to mark it up like he liked to, you pulled away, brows furrowed. Peter frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I think I hear-” you scooched to the corner of the bed, reaching your arm to the bedside table to pick your phone up.

“That’s more important than this?” he scoffed, “Ridiculous.” He plucked the phone out of your hands, holding it above your head, out of your reach and you groaned.

“Peter, someone’s calling me. Give it back,” you tried to reach for it and he shook his head, smirking. “I’m serious, it’s already late and I think that’s Ben-”

The smirk faded and he asked,” Who the fuck is Ben.”

“Yeah, he’s in my biotech class. Super nice. He asked if we could study together and I think that’s him.” You played up the super nice part to see Peter’s reactions and didn’t regret it one bit, that mad, confused furrow of his brow was hot.

“Oh, is he?” His arm dropped down slowly.

“Mmmhm,” you nodded, hand reaching for your phone again, this time successful. You unlocked it and swiped a few notifications, replied to a couple of friends while Peter’s nose flared.

“So, is he hot?” His tone was blunt.

“Who?” you asked, distracted.

“Your super nice classmate, Ben. He hot?”

You glanced up from your phone, shrugging.

“You should go for it, then,” he says and this time you put your phone down, looking him in the eye.

“What?-” You turn your body to face his, fully.

“Go for it,” he repeated casually.

“Like date someone else?” you asked for clarification.

“Why not?”

“You tell me, Peter. Since you’re so full of ideas this morning,” you frowned.

“He’s hot, and nice and in your class. What else could you want?”

You wanted to scream that all you wanted was him but you settled for,” Are you seeing other people then?”

“Sure am, babe. This is casual, so,” he shrugged again and you swallowed a lump in your throat as you nodded one too many times.

“Oh yeah, of course. I’ve had a couple dates here and there too, so.”

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes searching yours for something.

“Yeah!” It came out louder than you wanted.

“Yeah,” he repeated, and it was an awkward minute, painfully silent as you tried to pretend this conversation wasn’t affecting you as much as it was.

He broke the silence. “So, you going to go for it?” 

You wanted to scream. “What do you think I should do?” 

“I don’t fucking care, babe. Ask your friends or something. ‘M not your fucking friend.” Oh, that hurt. His tone was wrong, what he was saying was wrong, this entire morning was wrong.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I forgot! Of course, we’re not friends. I’m just a fucking fool you fuck whenever you feel like it. Easy pickings, right?” You scoff, almost jumping out of bed in your hurry as you rip his shirt off your body, finding yours on the floor. You pulled it on within seconds.

“That’s not what I- Babe!” He panicked. 

You rushed out and slammed the door.

***

Peter didn’t see you for weeks after that and he didn’t seek you out after the 5 calls you didn’t pick up and the 4 texts you read but didn’t reply to. He felt so very shitty- how long had you been thinking those thoughts? That you were just a simple fuck?

Even the thought made him sick to his bones because you meant so much more to him. You were the reason he wanted to be better, to be good. The frat had undoubtedly changed him from who he was as a highschooler into someone he tried to hide around May.

Someone he hadn’t wanted to become but it was just too late to change back. You made him believe different. The other girls he hooked up with were there either from the rumours or his reputation, girls that wanted casual flings, not much conversation, getting straight to business.

Turns out, Peter liked the conversation. Before sex and after sex. Banter and soft, irrelavant conversations about mundane things. He liked it all. Most of all, he liked it with you. 

You made it so easy to be himself, to geek out about video games sometimes, to laugh at cringy movies with. He didn’t know just how much it all meant to him till you were gone.

He missed you so much. He saw you on campus twice after that day and both times, you’d scrambled off within minutes, not giving him enough time to even blink. You used to hold him as close as possible in bed and now you run away. He hated himself for making you feel like that.

One afternoon, he caught sight of you across the hallway, talking to a friend animatedly, shooting her a bright smile as you spoke and he smiled to himself at the sight. You had this effect on him and you walked around thinking you were something casual?

Fuck that. He was going to fix this.

So it began. 

He started with small things, waiting outside your classes (he hadn’t even known that he’d memorised your timetable.) He shot you a smile, a simple wave and you’d paused in your step, eyes catching his before your face dropped. You’d turned the other way and walked away.

He was dejected but had half-expected this, so he tried again, and again, waiting outside with his hands in his pockets, frat hat shed off because he knew you loved his hair. 

One day he even got a sigh of exasperation rather than a direct frown and he grew so excited that he wanted to tell someone, and you were usually the person he’d send all his spontaneous excited thoughts to so he couldn’t. The realisation made him even more adamant to win you over.

He bided his time, and a fortnight of waiting outside your classes later, he bought you a bouquet of flowers, a range of purples and pinks, because you’d mentioned never having received flowers before. He held them to his back, pacing anxiously as he waited for the class to end.

When the bell did ring, he watched students file out one by one, heart almost beating out of his chest. When you finally showed up, in a red sweatshirt and some loose jeans, he felt his breath stop. You walked in his direction and before you could walk past as usual, he called out your name, stuttering a little.

You turned to look at him, scoffing. “What do you want?” Your eyes were colder than the tone of your words and he gulped.

“To give you, uh, these. Here.” He shoved the flowers into your hands and your lips parted in surprise. He waited for you to take hold of them but you didn’t, letting your hands fall back down.

He looked at his shoes in disappointment and you were walking away before he could say another thing. He couldn’t let you walk away again. At the very least, he wanted to apologize, come clear about his feelings, put it out there not for you to reciprocate but for you to know.

“HeY! Y/n, babe, please, talk to me,” he said, desperation tied with every word. You must have heard it, because you turned to him again, lips pursed.

“Really, Peter, what do you want? You made it clear what we were and well, I’m not interested in something like that. I want to be liked and loved and adored and I want someone who isn’t ashamed to hold my hand in public and someone who isn’t fucking afraid of communicating and commitment. Because that’s what you are, Parker. A fucking coward. You’re so terrified of anything that makes you feel anything. I just can’t deal with that anymore. All I’ve done is been cool about this,” you gestured between the two of you. 

He wanted to say something, do something, but he let you speak. He owed you that much.

You continued,” I’ve been the cool casual fling that shows up whenever you call and leaves whenever you’re done. I’ve tried so hard to separate my feelings from this. I can’t be cool with it anymore okay? Because it hurts- I love you and you don’t and it hurts, Par-”

He surged forward to kiss you, moving his lips against yours to let you know that he feels the same, that he’s felt the same for a long time, that he’s just a stupid dickhead that couldn’t process emotions for shit.

You pushed him away, eyes glassing up. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I tell you that I love you and you want to take advantage of that? You’re a bigger asshole that I-”

“Stop it. No!” he interjected. “Can’t you see?”

“See what?” you sounded colder than ice, but so very confused.

“I LOVE YOU. I’ve loved you all along. I’ve been an idiot and a fool for not seeing it sooner. I am a coward. You’re right, but I don’t want to be anymore. Not if it means losing you. I want to be yours,” he confessed, voice lowering to a mere whisper as he watched you try to process, mouth open in that adorable gasp and your eyes darting between his eyes.

His head dropped to your neck, arms coming round your body in the empty corridor, bouquet of flowers landing on the floor. “I love you,” he mumbled into your skin, feeling your arms finally, finally tighten around him in the warmest of warm hugs and he melted. It felt like home.

“Do you mean that?” you asked softly, one hand coming up to gently lift his jaw up to look him in the eye.

“Yeah,” he replied, just as soft, leaning up to leave a barely-there kiss on your cheek. “I do.”

“Okay.” You nodded, taking his hand and straightening up. “Wanna get some food to talk over?”

“Like a date?” he asked, smiling that mega-watt smile.

“If you want, I guess,” you shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to you, but he knew you better than that, tugging your intertwined hands up to give the back of your hand a kiss.

“Is that how I was with you?” he scrunched his nose up.

You nodded, “ Not fun, is it?”

“watch a couple of movies, make some popcorn, lay in bed and wonder about the pointlessness of life,” you joked.

“can i join? i would love to watch movies with you,” he was quick to say.

you winced. he wasn’t getting it. you weren’t up for sex tonight. hanging out with him, no matter what it was, always ended up in a frenzy of tearing each other’s clothes off and trying to be as quiet as you could. you’d met him at a party over at his frat a few months ago and it had been one bad decision after the other and you had to say- you were getting quite attached to the one guy you weren’t supposed to. the no-strings-attached guy, notorious for it in the frat, in fact. an evening without that could do you some good. some distance would help push those feelings down.

“um,” you hesitated, before deciding to be blunt,” i don’t think i’m up for sex today. i’m tired and...yeah.”

his incredulous laughter came soon after, voice a question mark,”...sex? who said anything about sex. we can spend time without sex right? or is that illegal?” he ended with a forced joke, delivery falling flat.

you stayed quiet, not quite knowing what to say.

“hey babe? you there?”

“yeah,” you said quietly.

“have i ever made you feel like we only hang out for sex? is that what you think of me?” he kept his voice even, but you could hear the desperation in it.

“no! just, sometimes. we’ve never really spent time just to spend time or anything? y’know?” you answered, trying to put it in words that wouldn’t come across wrong.

“oh my baby, it was never my intention to make you feel like that. ever. i love spending time with you. so much. i wanna make it up to you right now. can i come up and watch some movies with you? for a start?”

“come up-?”

“well, i was passing by the neighborhood and wanted to see you. and then i called and you broke my fucking heart.” he says, nonchalantly.

"fine," you blew out a haughty breath, a giddy smile growing on your face," you can come up, I guess."

"give me one minute," he said, voice heaving for less than even the minute he asked for before you heard a knock sound from your door.

"just passing by, huh?" you asked as you opened the door with a teasing smile when you saw that he was wearing your favourite version of his frat hoodie (a cozy blue colour that made him look so very boyfriend), holding takeout from your favourite taco stand.

"just passing by," he repeats, "don't let it get to your head."

-

just a lil blurb bc i missed writing and i love LOVE LOVE frat! peter ok LIKE A LOT