#suggestiveness

brown guilty eyes and little white lies yeah

You were watching TV while Peter was in the shower. He had been off lately, and you just assumed it was because of patrolling. You snap out of your thoughts to a ding, then another, then another. His phone kept going off. It could have been May needing help with something. But normally if she can't get ahold of Peter she calls you.

You look over at the coffee table where his phone is, and you grab it. He has his settings to where you can't see the messages unless unlocked, but you can still see the name.

i played dumb but i always knew

'Gwen'

Who the hell was Gwen? And why was she blowing up his phone? It had been about a minute since she messaged when a call came through. You hadn't even noticed Peter got out of the shower and was dressed until he snatched the phone out of your hand and declined the call.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked, anger lacing his voice.

"I just wanted to see who was blowing up your phone like it's their job," you answer in an annoyed tone, completely done with him acting like a dick. He didn't say anything, just walking into your room. You got off the couch and followed him. "Where are you going?" you ask.

"Out." He says grabbing his wallet.

"Out to see her?" you ask, he looks at you and slowly walks over to you. He takes his hand and holds your face.

"No baby, I'm gonna go hang out with Ned. Okay." He says, then kisses your lips gently. You know he was lying, but still, put a smile on your face and responded,

i kept quiet so I could keep you

"Okay," you said. And with that, he left.

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It had been a few months since that happened. Peter was always "hanging out with friends". So you decided to call Ned and Harry, Peter's only friends. Ned told you that he hadn't really seen Peter, but that was because he's been in LA with his girlfriend Betty. Harry said "Sorry y/n, but I haven't seen Peter in weeks."

Even after knowing all this information, you didn't say anything to him. You played dumb when he was around. You needed to talk to someone about this so, you invited MJ over to your apartment.

She had brought some wine so you guys could unwind. And you told her everything. The calls. The texts at late hours. Always leaving earlier than he used to. Telling her how much it hurt. How it felt like you'd been losing him for months. How he wouldn't tell you 'I love you' back. And you cried in her arms. She rubbed soothing circles in your back and eventually your tears calmed down.

"Ugh. We should have let Flash beat the living shit out of him." Michelle says out of nowhere.

"Huh," you say lifting your head from her shoulder.

"Freshman year, when Flash was going to beat him up for whatever reason, but we stopped him. We should have let him." MJ says and you laugh.

Even with MJ trying to cheer you up there was still a problem at bay. Peter had texted you and told you that he could come over tomorrow to hang out. But you already decided what was going to happen tomorrow. You were going to confront him, and end things.

About an hour later MJ left, even though she said she could stay the night, you insisted go downstairs to her apartment. You tossed and turned all night. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to drink with Michelle and then send her back to her apartment.

You kept overthinking. Was he actually cheating? Or were you making it up in your head? Were you actually over-reacting? If you were wrong, you lost him. If you were right, god please don't be right, you lost him. But deep down you knew you weren't wrong.

Because here's the truth, you couldn't lie to him, even over stupid things, safe to say it wasn't the same for him. It really hurt knowing you weren't good enough for him. Knowing that while you were in love with him, he was longing after someone else. Maybe he was even fucking her too.

you said you were friends but it sure as hell doesn't look like it

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Today was the day. You slept like shit but you were done with his little white lies. Well, maybe not 'little white lies' maybe more like huge gray stories.

You were sitting on the couch. Your couch. The couch helped you pick out, and carry in. The couch where so many memories were made.

It's also the couch where you discovered something you wish you hadn't. The couch that you had discovered Peter's lies. Peter's secrets. The same couch where you cried on Michelle's sweater, over a boy who didn't make you feel the same as he used to.

You had a show on Netflix playing, but you weren't paying much attention. You had texted Peter telling him to just let himself in when he got there. You didn't think you could open the door if he knocked. You probably would have locked it and told him to fuck off.

He walked in with a smile on his face. Closed the door behind him, and set his jacket on the back of the chair that was closest to the door. He came up to you to give you a kiss but you tilted your head away.

"Peter?" You say in a quieter voice. He backs up a bit and you stand up.

"Yes?" He asks.

"Who have you been out with?" You ask.

"Just Ned and Harry, y/n." He sighed.

"Just stop lying. I know you haven't been with them. Harry says he hasn't seen you in weeks, and Ned," You laugh, " Ned is in fucking LA" you say.

"Baby," he says and reaches out to touch your shoulder.

"Don't! Don't fucking babe me right now. You've been seeing another girl behind my back." You raised your voice.

He just looked at you with his guilty eyes.

"Do you love her? Does she love you? Does she know about your little secret identity? Was she there for you when Tony died? Or- or when you were in such a dark fucking place you were doing shit that would kill you?" You let a tear slip.

you talked to her when we were together loved you at your worst

He just stood there, saying nothing, with teary eyes.

"I ASKED YOU! I ASKED you who she was. I saw the notifications on your phone. I heard the phone ring at late times in the night. Did you sleep with her? While you were sleeping with me?" tears were rolling down your cheeks, and it was starting to get hard to breathe.

"We never slept together, y/n, but," He says with a sigh

"But? But what?" You ask, aggressively wiping the tears from your face.

"We only kissed a few times." He tilts his head down and stares at the floor. And you laugh, a sad, tearful, broken, laugh.

"Fuck off." You told him.

"Y/n... I never meant to hurt you." He spoke softly.

"What's the point, Peter? I'm in love with yet another guy who ends up cheating on me. Is it me? Is there something wrong with me? I mean there has to be right?"

"Y/n there's nothing wrong with you-" He starts, but you physically can't hear the excuses so you cut him off.

"Just get your stuff and get out." and he did what you said. While he walked to your bedroom to get his clothes you grabbed a bottle of rum out of your freezer and just drank. Eventually, he left and you fully broke down.

The next day, MJ came to check on you. Luckily she had a spare key because there was no way you were leaving that couch. She brought some food for both of you to eat for dinner.

"He cheated. Or should I say "We only kissed a few times"?" You say as she sits down next to you.

"Are you fucking serious?" she rolls her eyes. "At least you know now. Even if the truth makes me want to murder him." She says. "Could be worst." You nod your head.

"Yeah," you laugh, "I could be pregnant." You say, and Michelle looks over at you like she's seen a ghost.

"But you're not... right?" She asks.

"No, thank god. I got my period on schedule today." You say, taking a slice of pizza out of the box.

"Holy shit y/n. Don't do that again. Thought we were about to have to raise a baby today." She laughs making you laugh. A few minutes of quiet, the only sound coming from the movie playing on your TV.

"I have to go get me shit from his place." You say.

"What shit do you have there?" She asks.

"Some clothes, phone charger, a small jewelry box," you reply

"Whats in the jewelry box?"Michelle asks, grabbing another slice of pizza.

"Just a few rings like 3 or 4, and a necklace my mom gave me." You say taking another bite.

"I'll go with you, to pick up your shit."

"Okay, thanks. But I don't wanna go today, maybe give it a week to two to cool down on my part. If I see him I might cry on sight." you say, and she nods.

◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌

A week and a half later you and Michelle drove over to Peter's apartment. Apartment 12A. MJ knocks on the door for you and someone that's not Peter answers. She's tall and has long platinum blonde hair.

"Can I help you?" she asks, and it must have clicked in both your, and Michelle's head at the same time. This is Gwen. MJ pusses her way past Gwen and pulls you along with her.

ain't it funny remember i brought her up and you told me i was paranoid

"Hey! You can't just walk in like this" She yells, but MJ ignores her. MJ leads you to the room that toy and Peter used to share when you were over at his place. He shares it with her now. You couldn't believe he just ran to her the second you broke up. He probably fucked her for support or something like that the same night too. You and MJ got inside the bedroom and saw Peter standing there.

"Hey?" He says in a confused tone.

"We came to pick up her stuff dipshit." Michelle answers.

"Oh yeah, sure go ahead." He says awkwardly.

"Babe they just barged in." Gwen stomps her foot.

"It's okay Gwen. That's Y/n and her friend Michelle, they're just gonna pick up the last of her stuff." Peter says.

"Oh, Y/n?" She looks at you, talking about you, not to you." I was right when I said she wasn't good enough for you. Who dresses like that anyways?" You roll your eyes and actually look at her. She's wearing a white tennis skirt and a familiar purple hoodie that has a small white heart on the chest.

"Don't start shit," Peter says to her.

“That’s my hoodie.” you look at her neck and see a necklace your mom gave you. “And that's my necklace.” you look over at Peter “You gave her my necklace? You know my mom gave me that before she died. What the fuck Peter,” you say.

“I didn’t give her shit. She must have found it in your jewelry box.”

“Sorry I didn’t know.” Gwen scoffs, taking off the necklace and giving it to you.

“No, you didn't know. You don’t know anything about me, or him. You don’t know half the shit we’ve been through. You just had to come along and wreck the ONE stable thing that I’ve ever had. And then you want to take my shit and judge me? I'm wearing black fucking sweatpants and a plain blue shirt. Sorry, I'm not wearing Ralph fucking Lauren to my ex-boyfriend's house to pick up all the shit I had here, because he said forever and didn't mean it."

god i wish that you had thought this through before i went and fell in love with you

Gwen just looked at you, and she kind of looked guilty. And Peter, Peter looked like shit.

"Can you just do me one favor? Just answer one question." You say, and Gwen nods her head hesitantly. "Where you guys fucking before we broke up?" you ask, and your voice cracks a little. Gwen looks down at the ground and Peter jerks his head over to her.

"Yes." She says. Michelle scoffs and grabs one of the bookbags you guys stuffed your things into. You look over at Peter.

"But just kissing right?" You shake your head, and Peter reaches out to touch you and explain himself.

"y/n-" but you cut him off.

"You know what, save it." He nods and you crack a smile. "What's that one thing that Lizzo says? "So you can tell your friends: Shoot your shot when you see 'em It's OK," I would tell you to tell Harry that but, he's already in my DMs" you wink and MJ laughs and Peters dropped jew. You pick up the other book bag and walk out of the apartment with Michelle.

When you get to the car you pop the trunk and MJ is the first to speak,

"So, Harry's in your DMs?" She asks.

"When he found out I ended thing with Peter, he texted me and asked if I wanted him to be his rebound. I almost took him up on it. I mean, he kinda looks like James Franco." you say and close the trunk. She laughs and both of you get in the car and drive back to your apartment.

You walked into work the same way you always did. The kid who worked the reception desk handed you your black apron. He wasn’t too good at hiding his blush when you thanked him, and you shook your head as you walked away. When you arrived at your chair, you consulted your tablet. Eight clients – an average day. No sooner had you set the tablet down than you heard the bell over the door chime. You turned to greet your first client.

Baby here I am!

For the life of you, you couldn’t remember the last time you had had a male client.

I’m the man on the scene.

“Good morning,” you greeted him, as cheerily as you could.

He nodded, striding right up to you. “‘Sup?” he asked with a smirk.

The receptionist stood, but his movements were halting and uncertain. “Name, please? I’ve gotta check you in.” One of your coworkers moved to stand beside the receptionist, arms folded over his surprisingly burly chest.

But your client merely waved his iced coffee at them. “Name’s Dewey, I have an appointment with Miss Y/N here, first thing today.” He threw you a glance, eyeing you up and down.

Boys will come along a dime by the dozen…

You gave him a sideways frown, but shook your head.

That ain’t nothin’ but ten cent lovin’.

“It’s fine, guys, don’t worry.” Dewey gave them an innocent little smile that very clearly said he was more than just fine.

Pretty little thing let me light your candle ‘cause mama I’m sure hard to handle, now yessir’am.

You set your hands on your client’s arms, turned him around, and bundled him off to your chair. When he sat down, you gripped the chairback and looked at his face in the mirror. “So–”

“So.”

“–what are we thinking today?”

He thought for a moment, then pulled out his phone. “Here,” he muttered, pressing a few keys. “Here is what I’m going for.” He lifted the screen, facing it toward you. You looked at it, then blinked. “What?”

Take my hand, don’t be afraid.

“Is this just a picture of you a few months ago?”

I’m gonna prove every word I say.

“Yeah. Can you handle that?” You couldn’t read his tone, and when you looked at him, you saw a mischievous sparkle in his soft brown eyes.

I’m advertising love for free…

You swallowed. “I can give it a shot.” He nodded and leaned back, returning his phone to his jacket pocket.

So you can place your ad with me.

You cleared your throat and pointed to the far wall. “Sink.”

Dewey would toss the occasional salacious comment your way after that, but by and large he let you do your job. His hair was a good deal shaggier than it had been in the photo he showed you, though still short enough that his trim took only twenty minutes.

He passed the time by asking you about the other clients in the salon. He would ask what their deal was, how they had met their stylist, who had the hots for who. You hadn’t expected him to be so nosy, but you didn’t mind telling him what he wanted to know. It made the words easy, and the time seem short.

All the while, you noticed your coworker keeping an eye on you – the one who had backed up the receptionist earlier. He watched over every innuendo, gaze darting to you each time you laughed. Then, you caught the client at the chair behind yours doing it too, though he tried to act as though he hadn’t been when your eyes caught his in the mirror.

“What about me?” Dewey asked as you switched off your blow dryer.

Baby, here I am!

“Hm?” You unsnapped the black poncho and swept it from around his neck.

I’m the man on the scene.

He stood. “What’s my deal?”

I can give you what you want…

“Who says you have a deal?” He was drifting over to the reception desk now, and you followed him. Dewey handed his card over to the kid behind it without looking.

But you gotta come home with me.

“Doesn’t everybody have a deal?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the receptionist beat you to it. “Here you are, sir.” He gave Dewey’s card back to him. “Have a great rest of your day.” Though you may have imagined it, you were fairly certain that the receptionist had emphasized his words a tad more than was necessary.

Dewey took the card and thanked him, but kept his eyes on you. “Well?” he asked, jerking his head toward the door. He began backing out of the salon, and you followed him.

“Uh, where are you going?” your coworker asked you from his chair, not too far from the door.

“Oh, she needs to walk me out. See if the cut holds up.” For the hundredth time that morning, you frowned over at Dewey but went along with it.

“I’ll just be a moment,” you called.

“So? What’s my deal?”

“Your deal,” you said, walking outside, “is that you’re a moderately successful music coach with a super hot girlfriend.”

Dewey gave an approving nod. “True.”

Boys will come around a dime by the dozen…

“I don’t understand why you don’t just let me introduce you.”

That ain’t nothin’ but ten cent lovin’.

“What, and dash all those guys’ hopes and dreams? Not a chance. Besides”—he eyed you lasciviously and reached around you, grabbed your ass, and pulled you against him. You gasped as you collided with his chest, but grabbed his lapel—“I know none of those douchebags stand a chance.”

Pretty little thing let me light your candle ‘cause mama I’m sure hard to handle, now yessir’am.

“True.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. C’mere.” He pressed his lips to yours, not caring for the moment who was looking through the window.

So hard to handle now, yeah.

.

.

***

Error had seemed nervous today. He had been fidgeting with his strings for hours, refusing to look at him. Lust was getting nervous. Had he done something wrong? Had Error decided he didn’t want to be with him anymore? Was he going to break up with him? Lust did his best to distract himself from the thoughts, but they kept returning. He had tried to ask, but Error hadn’t given him a reply.

He swallowed, preparing himself to ask again. He needed to know. Just as he opened his mouth, though, he got interrupted.

“I w-WaNT tO TrY H_HAvInG sEX wiTh You!” Error exclaimed quickly, blushing yellow brightly. In his uneasiness the glitching and stammering got worse. Lust froze, staring at the other. His mouth was still open, and in the shock, he didn’t think of closing it. “i-If YoU w-wANT.”

It took a while for Lust to find words. Error wanted..? He wondered if Lust wanted to…? After two and a half year Error wanted to have sex with him? His boyfriend seemed to grow more anxious for every second he was silent. Despite that, Lust couldn’t find the words, trying to stammer a reply.

“w-We D-d-dON*T haVe t-T_t-tO, i-If y-YoU d-doN’T.”

At that, Lust let out a quick laugh of disbelief. He grinned widely, and inched closer to the other.

“i don’t want to?” he asked, surprised and slightly amused. He raised a hand to caress Error’s cheek, making his blush glow even more. “of course i do, error. more than you can imagine. are you sure you want it?”

Error gave a quick nod, and Lust’s grin grew wider. He moved his other hand to stroke Error’s clavicle, making him gasp slightly.