peter parker x fem!reader | brand new day spoilers kinda
“Does it... What?” Peter laughed nervously, already naked and on top of you. “No! I mean—I mean I don’t think so.”
The night started like many others. Peter got home from saving people, slightly banged up but totally fine. You took care of him, made dinner and took a shower where you cleaned him up.
Which led to a small mid-shower makeout, which led to him eating you out, which led to now. In bed, with no clothes on.
The thought barely crossed your mind, but it came out before you could stop it.
He’d told you about all of his changes (kinda had to when his webs were all over your apartment) and you’d seen how incontrollable they still were. They were shooting out of him hard and fast and he was struggling to stop them.
So was it really that crazy for your brain to think ‘natural web shooting = web ejactulation = web cum?’
Apparently so because when the words, “Does it come out anywhere else?” slipped from your lips, Peter looked at you like he just watched his puppy get run over.
There was confusion, worry, and maybe a little bit of awkward ‘humor’ in his face. But even as he told you no, he didn’t look sure of himself anymore.
“Should we test that?” you asked, your voice low and sultry, trying to get the mood back. It worked, because you felt Peter’s still-hard cock twitch against your leg. “Yeah?”
He nodded, waiting for you to make a move.
If he was being honest, he didn’t know what you meant when you said to test it. He just knew that his very sexy girlfriend was talking about making him cum, so he agreed without thinking.
Watching as your hand snaked between your bodies, Peter’s heart was racing with anticipation. He wasn’t sure it would be safe for a normal person’s heart to be beating that fast.
Luckily, he wasn’t a normal person.
And he found that opened a lot of opportunities in the bedroom.
“You can go twice right? I still want you inside me after...” your voice was laced with need, almost pushing Peter over the edge right then and there. He nodded frantically, his hips twitching, pushing his aching cock against your palm.
“I can. I promise. Please just—” he cut himself off with a moan as your hand pumped and curled around his tip. “Fuck.”
Failing to hold in a giggle, a smile spread on your face that made Peter feel like he just fell in love with you all over again. Weird.
Your hand wrapped around him, giving him a few teasingly slow strokes before you scooted backwards enough to wrap your mouth around his sensitive pink tip. You started to up your pace while your mouth sank further down, taking more of him in.
Bringing him closer and closer to the edge, he felt the same internal panic he did when the webs came out of his wrists for the first time. But you didn’t stop. No. You only went harder.
Peter barely pulled you off at the last second, watching as webs came out of his cock and splattered on the ceiling.
It was probably the best orgasm he’d ever had.
The relief when it was over, the pleasure he felt during it. All of it. His curls were sticking to the sweat on his forehead, and when he looked over you were staring at him with wide eyes.
Wide, excited, horny eyes. (He could tell).
“That was so hot, oh my god,” you squealed, wiping off the last string of web from his extremely sensitive cock. A strangled noise came from his throat, overwhelmed by the strong feeling.
“Oh jesus,” he whispered, trying to catch his breath. “I think I need just a minute. It’s really, really sensitive.”
You nodded, running your hands over his curls. He smiled, his head subconsciously leaning into your hand. Before you knew it, Peter was pulling you down to kiss him again, all wet and open-mouthed. His hands were roaming your body, reclosing the gap.
One of your legs swung over him, straddling his abdomin that was glistening with a sheer layer of sweat. You were careful not to go too far back until Peter was ready, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t rock yourself against him.
The hard ridges of his ab muscles were perfect for grinding your clit against, and not to mention Peter loved it. He didn’t realize how much he liked the praise until he met you.
“That’s it. Uh-huh,” he mumbled as he helped you guide yourself against him. Sweet noises were falling from your open mouth as you ran your slick pussy over his stomach.
One of his hands ran up, kneading your tits while the other stayed and grabbed at your ass—helping spread you open to get a better feel of him. You could feel your second orgasm of the night quickly approaching, but you wanted to save it.
Halting your hips was hard, you really didn’t want to stop, but you knew you’d be happier if you came with Peter inside you.
“Are you ready?” your voice was breathless and whiney, your eyes hooded and glazed over with need. He flipped you onto your back, pulling a cute squeak from your throat.
“Uh-huh.” Leaving open kisses down your neck, he asked, “But are you ready?” against your sticky skin.
You felt yourself squeeze around nothing. “Yeah.”
He pressed one last kiss to your neck before you felt his long cock stretch you out. You could feel every ridge, every vein, as he slid into you so far you felt like it would come out your mouth.
Your mouth was stuck open, tears from the pleasure welling up in your eyes. Peter felt your nails dig into his back as he started at a slow pace. It wasn’t gentle, but it was just enough to refamiliarize yourself with him.
As the seconds passed, you needed more and more. Trying to grind your hips up and meet him halfway for more pressure, more speed, wasn’t cutting it. You needed his all.
“Peter. Oh my, fuck. Peter, please. I need more. I can handle it,” you moaned as he thrusted, your eyes meeting his so he could see the truthfulness in your eyes. That you would really be okay if he went harder.
He was always scared of hurting you, so he needed that confirmation every time.
His pace sped up along with his thrusts’ power. After only a few seconds, he was fucking you into the mattress. Moans and heavy breaths were spilling out of your mouth, along with Peter’s grunts and moans himself.
The bed was squeaking, a dull thud against the wooden wall for every thrust he gave you. “Shit,” Peter grumbled, looking at something behind your head for only a second.
You could feel your second orgasm coming back, along with Peter’s antsy hands. They were moving from beside your head, to your waist, to your legs—pushing your legs further apart and hitting an even deeper angle.
Your moaning only spurred him on, his hand coming to rub circles to your clit. He felt you squeeze and flutter around him, your eyes and face scrunched up.
He felt his own orgasm coming up, but he was determined to focus on you. Your shaky legs and light knuckles from gripping the sheets too hard. Your short breaths and teary eyes.
“C’mon. Come for me,” he whispered as you felt yourself go over the edge. Your hips twitched and your pussy squeezed him unbearably tight, followed by his warm liquid leaking inside you.
The thought of his web-sperm mix you saw earlier being inside you made you flutter around him again.
He had the same sensitivity as before, hissing through his teeth as he dropped his head to your neck. He relaxed his body on top of you, too sensitive to move or pull out yet.
His weight and heat on top of you was a common feeling, but it was one of your favorites.
You loved having him lay on top of you, especially right after sex. “Thank you,” you mumbled against his hair, your fingers gently rubbing up and down his rigid back muscles. You could feel him twitching and softening inside you, an almost ticklish feeling.
Peter hummed before laughing and whispering, “Also, uh, we might need a new bed, by the way.”
masterlist
note this isn’t proofread so if there’s any mistakes 🤫 (or lmk and i’ll fix em!)
warnings: brand new day spoilers (but it's genuinely the smallest one you ever did see)
summary: you're avoiding the party that mj and ned wanted to throw, but that doesn't stop you from being found by a stranger. why can't you shake the feeling that he's familiar?
a/n: umm it's been eight years since i posted on this account? we're so back? saw brand new day in theaters (twice) and felt teenage me gnawing on the bars of her enclosure this one is for her (and for y'all). potential for a part two...
You didn’t know exactly what it was. You didn’t mind the music or the alcohol; even being around so many people was fun sometimes. Before everyone got drunk and started spilling things and yelling, obviously. But every single party you’d been to at MIT had felt…wrong. Like you were missing something. Like someone was supposed to be there with you, and they weren’t.
Which didn’t make sense. Ned and MJ had gone to a majority of the parties you’d gone to throughout college, and they were your closest friends. How could you feel like something important was missing when everything important was already there with you?
Either way, you’d started trying to avoid that gnawing feeling in your chest. Besides, you were growing out of the phase where going to every party and meeting every person you could fascinated you. Maybe one day that deep, dreadful sinking would go away. Maybe it would stop appearing at parties, on every birthday you turned a year older, on the small amount of dates you’d gone on where the feeling got so strong it made you nauseous.
Today, though, was an exception. You’d graduated this past summer and moved back to New York with MJ and Ned, and they were determined to throw one last party with all the college friends that had wound up back in the city, too.
Well, Ned was determined. You and MJ were lukewarm about the whole thing.
Which is why you were in your—abysmally small—bedroom, working through this line of code that you were pretty sure was going to get you fired from your shiny new job if you didn’t figure out why it wasn’t working, with your door open to the noise beyond. It was to keep an eye on MJ and Ned, you told yourself, even as you eyed all the swaying people around the TV you’d just spent fifty dollars on from Facebook Marketplace. Ugh, you should have moved it before. If they broke it, you were totally making Ned buy you takeout for a week.
You went back to work, thankful everyone seemed to be too preoccupied with the party to worry about the weird girl staring at her computer screen on her bedroom floor. You couldn’t figure this out. It was driving you crazy. You were sure it had worked yesterday evening, and then when you’d come into work this morning it was all wrong and every single test you did didn’t fix it and you were going to throw your computer—
A knock on your open door. A cleared throat. “Um, hey.”
You looked up.
A guy around your age stood in your doorway. The first thing you noticed about him were his eyes, wide and expressive, looking at you as if you were the one who’d shown up in his bedroom. But…reverent too, almost in disbelief. He was looking at you like he’d never seen a girl before.
But he was cute. And something about him…
He seemed familiar.
“Are you okay?” he asks you. His gaze starts to bounce around the room the second you meet it, avoiding your eyes. “You looked, um, mad?”
“Oh!” You laugh a little at yourself. “I’m just doing some work. I’ve been told I look mad when I can’t figure something out. I don’t even realize it.” But who had told you that? It wasn’t your family, or Ned or MJ. But someone had told you. Who had it been?
The guy shifts on his feet. You realize he’s holding a bouquet of flowers, which is a weird thing to bring to a party, but you find it charming. He squints his eyes at you, but the corner of his mouth is lifting like he wants to smile. It makes something in your chest flutter. “You’re doing work during a party?”
He’s teasing you. You feel yourself smiling back. “Yes, I am. Super important work, I might add.”
“Oh, yeah?” He leans a shoulder against your doorframe, eyes on yours now.
You can’t look away.
“Yep. Keep an eye out because I’m gonna dethrone Spider-Man from the first page of the Daily Bugle tomorrow with my amazing work on debugging this finance app that only has three hundred downloads. Really groundbreaking stuff.”
He smiles fully, now. It makes you feel triumphant, nervous, and warm. “That’s awesome because I love—What’s the name of the app?”
“Financipply” Stupid name. From the doubtful look he sends you, he agrees.
“That’s perfect because I love Finacnipply. Can’t wait to see you on the front page.” You roll your eyes, but you laugh. You both do, his shy and small, as if he hasn’t done it in a long, long time. As if he shouldn’t be laughing at all. But his eyes are bright. They turn towards the floor as your laughter dies, shy. “So what can’t you figure out?”
And you just can’t stop looking at him. You motion towards your computer screen vaguely. “Just this code. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. It’s just not working.”
He takes a small step forward. “Do you think…Can I…look at it?”
“For real? You code?”
He shrugs, one hand in his pocket. Adorable. “I…dabble?”
“Are you sure about that?”
Another flash of a smile. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Alright then. Knock yourself out.”
He comes to sit next to you on the rug you found at the thrift store a couple blocks away, rubbing his palms over his jeans and looking intently at your computer screen. He smells like clean laundry and the rain the city had earlier in the day, and he’s looking at your code like he actually understands it. “Oh wow. Cool.” He scrolls through it a couple times, up, down. You’re entranced by his profile, so close. He stops to type. “Did you try this?”
You blink. Look at the screen. “Oh my gosh, no.” A simple line edit. You know when you see it that it’ll work. “Holy shit. You did it. Holy crap. Thank you. You’re, like, awesome.”
“It was nothing.” But he's ducking his head with a blush. “Seriously.”
“What’s your name, anyway? Since you saved me from getting fired.”
“Um, May..nard.”
“Maynard.” It sounds wrong. You’ve never had that thought before—that someone’s name is wrong. But it’s a sure feeling in your chest. The one you have when you know your code tests are going to work, and when you decided you wanted to move back to the city. It’s really the only feeling you trust anymore.
“Yep.” He leans back on his palms, and your eyes run down his arms unconsciously, tracking muscles and veins. You have a brief, overwhelming urge to curl closer to him, to run your hands down his biceps, to take his hands into yours and trace the lines of his palms. And it feels normal, to have that feeling. So normal, your body almost starts moving on its own accord. But his voice breaks you out of it. “So, is this what you want to do? Program apps?”
You tell him that your dream is to work on developing video games, and he nods like it makes complete sense and gets you to tell him that you’d love to make a game based off of Star Wars, which makes his eyes light up in a way that has your breath catching.
And that’s how you end up talking to a cute boy on the floor of your bedroom for an hour, about Star Wars and your favorite video games and what got you into them in the first place. He makes you laugh, and talking to him is so easy. It’s hard to believe you just met him now and not in high school. He would fit right in with MJ and Ned. You can almost see it for a moment; the four of you hanging around the diner MJ used to work at before college, laughing and teasing and studying. The image is so visceral that for a moment it feels real.
You’re just about to invite him over sometime because you’re so sure that they’d love him and that you want to get to know him better, when there’s a crash from the living room.
Both of you turn, and your face immediately drops. That better not have been your TV.
You sigh. “I need to go make sure nothing important is broken.” You almost add on a desperate wait for me, but he’s already standing up and holding out a hand for you.
That would have been too weird to ask for, anyway. Right?
You let him pull you up. When your hands touch, it’s almost as if the warmth radiates from his calloused fingers, grips your heart, and drags it all the way down to your toes. He lets go quickly, as soon as you’re on your feet, but you stand there for a moment, disoriented. Feeling like…feeling like you’re right where you need to be. But also like you’ve forgotten to do something. It pulls at your brain like a grocery item list you know you were thinking about five minutes ago, but no matter how far you reach, you can never remember what it was.
It shouldn’t bother you this much—you’ve been feeling it since you went to college. It hung over you during orientation, and move-in day, and every visit home. It reaches you in dreams, and weirdly, whenever Ned shows you the thousands of videos he gets of Spider-Man swinging across the city.
But you’d never felt this close to grasping it before. You can almost see an image in your brain, faded around the edges like an old photograph, a word floating just on the edge of your consciousness.
“You okay?” He’s asking you. Maynard. God, why does that name sound so wrong to think?
He looks about a second away from grabbing your hand again.
You want to let him.
But you hear MJ’s voice from the living room, firm in the way she only uses when she’s annoyed, and you know that your TV is probably done for. Maynard seems to be able to sense it too, because he urges you to go.
And your TV is broken, thanks to some idiot and his friend who decided to start play-fighting for no reason. He gives you a twenty from his pocket, but you can’t even focus. Your mind is too busy playing back your night. Warm brown eyes, messy curls, soft smiles. You end up just waving it off—but you keep that twenty—and rushing back to your room to find Maynard.
Only, he’s not there when you return.
Your laptop is closed and placed at the foot of your bed. On top, the bouquet he showed up with.
You stand there, in the middle of your tiny room, touching your fingertips to the carnations and grieving.
Grieving for what? You keep asking yourself. Why do I feel this way?
But you can’t figure it out. It stays, stays, stays.
Later that night, his face comes to you in your dreams. It’s younger, unburdened with the sadness you’d seen lying underneath. He’s laughing, bright and beautiful, and he’s looking at you. You’re on a rooftop somewhere, both of you golden in the sun, and he’s saying your name with a fondness that notches into your spine.
I love you, he says, and he means it. It’s in his eyes, in the way his expression melts into softness, in the way he traces his fingers across your shoulder and pulls you into him.
Peter, your voice sounds just as yours does now, weighed down by adulthood. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and there’s a peacefulness in your body that you know you haven’t felt in years, even through the haze of the dream. I’ll always love you.
You feel the press of his lips to your hair, the curve of them as he smiles.
You wake up. Gasping, gripping the thin sheets of your bed, sweat gleaming on your collarbone.
Peter, your mind whispers to you in the dark.
“Peter.” You murmur it into the moonlight shining across your floor, to your heart beating against your ribcage, to the knot in your stomach that finally releases.
“Peter.” You say again. Taste it on your tongue, certain you’ve said it a thousand times, in a million different ways.
A/N: I couldn't leave y'all hanging! Here's part five!
Summary: While saving his girlfriend from a new threat, Peter discovers a surprising connection between her and an old acquaintance.
Word Count: 1.3k
Five Days Later:
"Hey, hey, hey, Pete! I got it."
He carefully settled back onto the couch, craning his neck to see (y/n) run toward the door. "Babe, I can get it. It's five feet away."
"The doctor said to take it easy," (y/n) said as she swung it open. "Hey, Dad."
Frank greeted her with a kiss to the cheek and held up a plastic bag as he entered. "Brought some takeout."
The three of them sat on the couch where Peter had set up shop the past few days. (Y/n) had, of course, called in to work and told her boss of Peter's accident... getting mugged and shot.
It was a pretty good cover story if (y/n) said so herself.
"It's a shame Spider-Man is in the hospital," her boss had sighed. "Maybe he could've stopped it. Take all the time you need."
Frank shoved a forkful of takeout into his mouth. "How ya feeling, kid?"
"Sore. I know how the other Peters felt now. (Y/n) hasn't let me lift a finger."
"Good," he chuckled, nudging his daughter. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Peter's days consisted of nothing but the couch, ignoring the buzzing alerts of his phone. (Y/n) muted them after a while. They were driving her crazy. If Peter was being honest, it was driving him insane knowing the city needed him and he couldn't do anything. Each time, he'd get up and look out the window longingly at the street below. And each time, (y/n) reminded him that he wasn't alone. DeWolff had called a few times to check up on him, ensuring the NYPD had everything under control.
It didn't make it any easier.
The longer he stayed in his apartment, on that couch, the more he thought he'd lose his mind. As much as he loved it, he could only watch the original Star Wars trilogy---and the cinematic masterpiece, Revenge of the Sith---so many times.
So one day when (y/n) was out at the store, Peter decided to take a walk. After leaving her a note, he hobbled down the hallway, rode the elevator down, and pushed through the lobby doors. He breathed deeply as the sun hit his face.
Playing children ran past him, and a smile graced his lips. He thought of the kid from the hospital, the one who'd smiled at him from atop his father's shoulders. It was crazy how fast life could change. A few years before, the world hated him. But now?
Spider-Man was everywhere. He was on T-shirts, billboards, sweatpants, sunglasses... he was everywhere you looked. "I <3 Spider-Man" shirts were sold out at every little NYC gift shop.
A twinge of pain shot through him with every limping step Peter took, but he couldn't focus on it. He was just glad to be back in his city. On his streets.
"Hey, Peter."
He turned to see an olive-skinned woman in business casual walking beside him. "Do I know you?"
"Glad to see you're up and about... You know, I never got to thank you."
Peter froze, turning toward her with furrowed brows. "Jean?"
"Hi." The woman smiled.
"You don't have to thank me."
"You saved me and then took a bullet for me," the woman reminded him, her voice softening. "Of course I need to thank you."
His eyes dropped to his shoes before meeting her gaze. "I should be thanking you, too. I know you kept me alive."
"That was nothing."
"Jean-"
She ignored him and started forward again. "I'm outside the city, far away from here. It's nice to visit."
"Did you find somewhere safe?"
"Yeah," Jean grinned through the woman. "I think I have."
"They're lucky to have you. But don't forget that you'll always have someone in New York looking out for you."
She nodded. "I know."
Something passed over the woman's face, and she blinked a few times. Was Jean's signal getting weaker? Before he could ask, she pulled him into a careful hug.
"Take care, Peter. I'll, uh, I'll see you around."
She pulled back, and then Jean was gone, replaced by the woman's confused face. Peter continued toward the flower shop a few blocks away. The apartment could use some brightening up. They hadn't been able to take any of the balloons with them, but it brought a smile to his face when he saw one in a shopkeeper's window.
Peter ordered a coffee and sat down, watching the strangers passing by---a mom and son, a teenage couple hand in hand, businessmen with briefcases. Each one unique, worthy of love, of being protected.
May’s voice echoed in his mind. “With great power comes great responsibility.”
For the first time in years, the weight on Peter’s shoulders lifted. Maybe it was alright to share some of that responsibility.
Humanity wasn’t meant to be alone. Life isn’t meant to be bleak and isolating.
Then, like a burst of color, she pushed through the doors with a chime. Her eyes landed on him at the corner table. She only shook her head with a smile as she sat across from him.
“Thought you’d be here.”
“A walk sounded nice."
(Y/n) followed his gaze out the window. "How's it today?"
"Better."
"Yeah?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"You know, my dad mentioned something about bringing over his chili tonight, but," (y/n) shot him a million-dollar grin, "I was thinking we should go out tonight. What do you think?"
"I think that sounds like a plan."
(Y/n) leaned over the table and kissed him. "Perfect."
"Where do you want to go?"
She took his hand. "I have something in mind."
~~~
The setting sun cast its golden rays across the city, silhouetting the surrounding skyscrapers. (Y/n)'s hair blew in the wind as she readjusted on her lawn chair and took a bite of cake.
"Happy Six Months" had been written on the tiny cake before they'd dug into it, devouring three-fourths of it. Peter had repeatedly apologized for forgetting, but (y/n) insisted that getting shot was a worthy excuse. A couple of kisses also helped him believe her.
And now they sat, hand in hand, as they watched the sun set over the city. Their city.
"Never gets old," she murmured, squeezing his hand.
Peter's gaze drifted from the skyline to the woman beside him. The fading light illuminated her features, setting her beautiful eyes alight. His heart clenched in his chest.
How was he so lucky to find someone like her?
She'd stayed by his side as Peter Parker and as Spider-Man, never pushing or prying for details or explanations. She'd simply been there. She never left his hospital bed and had been taking care of him ever since---replacing his bandages and making sure he took it easy.
Oh, how he loved her.
"No, it doesn't."
(Y/n) turned to find him staring at her. A slow smile tugged at her lips, and she leaned over and gave him a kiss. "Have I told you I love you?" she mumbled against his lips.
Peter shook his head. "I think you'll have to tell me again."
"I love you, Peter Parker," she whispered, kissing him once. "I love you, Spider-Man." She kissed him again.
He leaned in for another, but she pulled back with a giggle. Something serious flashed over his face before she could speak. His suddenly glossy gaze flicked between her lips and eyes.
"Thank you... for everything. For being here. Taking care of me... all of it."
(Y/n)'s eyes burned. "You don't have to thank-"
"Yes, I do," he croaked, shaking his head. "I was so alone before you. I-I had no one. You changed my life, (y/n). Thank you doesn't seem like enough."
She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. "You're enough," whispered (y/n). "You're more than enough. And I'll always look after you, my Spider-Man."
Summary: While saving his girlfriend from a new threat, Peter discovers a surprising connection between her and an old acquaintance.
Word Count: 1.3k
Two Days After the Accident:
The days passed slowly... achingly so. (Y/n) had remained at her post in their "waiting room," watching from afar as people in the main waiting room embraced and celebrated their loved one's recovery.
"Critical condition." That was all the information they'd gotten from the doctors. Frank had to do all but threaten the man to get him to divulge that the bullet had been removed and that he was currently on a ventilator.
That did nothing to ease the ever-present pit in her stomach. If anything, it only deepened it.
Frank sat at her side every hour, except when he went to their homes to grab some clothes or some fast food. He even got Peter a change of clothes from his apartment.
'He would use them,' he told himself. 'He would.'
He also managed to get (y/n) to take a shower in one of the hospital's vacant rooms. It had only taken Frank one look at the nurse for her to agree and open up the room for (y/n) to use.
It was another day after that before they were allowed to see him. Nothing could have prepared (y/n) for the sight before her---wires and IVs surrounded Peter's bloody and broken body. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes as the doctor spoke.
"He shouldn't be alive, but he is. It's a miracle."
Frank stepped forward, wrapping an arm around (y/n)'s shoulders. "When... when should he wake up?"
"A day? A week?" he shrugged. "We're not sure."
(Y/n) sniffled and turned to the doctor. "But he will wake up?"
"We believe so."
She nodded and approached the bed, leaving her father to get the specifics from the doctor. He looked so small. So pale. Sinking down on the edge of the bed, (y/n)'s thumb lightly traced his cheek, careful of the dark bruising and stitched cut to his temple.
"Hey, Spider-Man," she said in a broken whisper. "I need you to wake up for me. Please."
The steady hum of the ventilator was the only response.
Shakily sighing, she gently took his hand and moved to one of the two chairs beside the bed, scooting it as close as possible. Frank joined her a few minutes later, eyes red-rimmed as he stared at the broken hero lying in the bed.
"He's how I thought he would look, you know."
(Y/n) glanced at the door. They were alone. "Spider-Man or my boyfriend?"
"Both, really," he huffed. "You've got a type."
"What does that-"
"I'm just glad it's not guys like me, alright? You've... found a good one. I-I like him."
"I was gonna tell him about you, but it just didn't feel like the right time." (Y/n) waved her free hand in the air. "Then all this happened, and we both came clean. I told him I knew he was Spider-Man, and he told me about the problems he's been having."
"I'm sorry, (y/n). This is all my fault. I should've-"
She clenched her eyes closed. "Stop. He won't blame you. He's too good." Her glossy gaze met her father's. "I don't. Blame you, I mean. I just want him to wake up."
And that's how the next two days passed---sitting at his bedside, telling him everything about anything she could think of. Stories from the coffee shop, how she felt the first time she saw him, how she felt now. The three words she'd held back slipped from her lips without restraint as she talked to him.
Nurses took the ventilator out after day one, settling with a mask supplying him the extra oxygen he needed to make up for the weakness in his lungs. Her eyes drifted to his stomach beneath the scratchy blankets. Due to his body's strength from the powers, the exit wound had been much smaller than normal.
.50 cals didn't leave small exit wounds.
What did it look like now with his speed healing? Did the stitching hurt? Was the damaged tissue repairing itself right then?
"Sweetheart. How about you go take a shower?"
She cut her eyes over at her dad. "Do I smell that bad?"
"No," he grinned. "You just... need a break. I'll sit with him."
(Y/n)'s mouth opened, but he cut her off with a nod. "I'll holler if anything happens. You're ten feet away."
After a long moment of deliberation, she relented, kissing Peter's forehead and disappearing into the bathroom. The water soothed her aching back as she let the heat settle into her bones. That chair was nothing short of a torture device designed to destroy the occupant's posture and offer no support.
Maybe it was all a ploy to get people back in the hospital.
(Y/n) shook her head. What was going on? Was she delusional?
Possibly, seeing as she'd only slept a few hours the past few nights. But how could she? When she closed her eyes, she saw the man she loved bleeding out before her. When she opened them, he lay breathing in the bed beside her.
One option was clearly better than the other.
(Y/n) quickly finished her shower and changed into gray sweatpants and a navy NYC sweatshirt. She opened the door, towel-drying her hair as she exited. "You happened to grab my favorite sweatshirt-"
The towel slipped to the floor.
"Peter?" she whispered.
He turned and smiled weakly at her from the window. "Hey."
For the first time in days, (y/n) felt like she could breathe. She was at his side the next moment, kissing every part of his face she could touch, tears trickling down her cheeks. "You're awake."
"I'll, uh, give you two a minute." Frank closed the door behind him.
(Y/n) helped Peter back into bed. She sat on the edge, gripping his hand for dear life. He was awake. His brown eyes stared back at her, dazed, but very much his.
Peter leaned back into his pillows with a sigh. "I guess I wasn't very careful."
"Peter," (y/n) breathed, shaking her head. "It's too soon for jokes."
They simply stared at each other for a few minutes, savoring each other's company. Her eyes lowered to their joined hands, then to his stomach.
"I thought I was gonna lose you. When we found you, I-" Her voice broke. "You were just... just lying there in a pool of your own blood."
Peter sat up further, wincing slightly as he did so. "Hey, I need to tell you something. Can you look at me?"
(Y/n) looked up at him through her lashes.
“When it… happened, my first thought was of you. I thought I was going to die without...” He shook his head, eyes glistening. “Without telling you how much you mean to me.”
Peter took a deep breath and pulled her closer by the hand. “I love you. More than anything, and when-”
He didn’t get the chance to finish his confession. (Y/n) kissed him softly, hands cupping his cheeks. “I love you, too,” she whispered against his lips.
With a content sigh, Peter smiled and slowly wrapped his arm around her, tugging her to lay beside him. He ignored her protests and leaned into her. Her warmth seeped through his thin hospital gown and deep into his bones.
“Does it hurt?”
He hummed against her hair.
“Pete.”
“Yeah,” he sighed.
“Did you, uh, talk to my dad?”
He raised a brow. “As your boyfriend or Spider-Man?”
“Either. He’s really cut up over what happened.”
“I know. But I’m okay. Really.”
Peter chuckled under his breath, and (y/n) sat up enough to look at him. “What?”
“I guess your dad really did shoot me.”
“Pete.”
“I asked you if he knew who I was, and you said he’d probably shoot me on site.”
She buried her face in his neck. “Still too soon.”
A/N: Thank you all so much for all the love and support for this mini series! Brand New Day might be one of my favorite Marvel movies ever!! And that's saying something!
Summary: While saving his girlfriend from a new threat, Peter discovers a surprising connection between her and an old acquaintance.
Word Count: 1.6k
"It looks like this Jean Gray had a sister."
"A sister?" Peter asked. "What was her name?
"Sarah."
Sarah.
His heart dropped into his stomach. Jean had just been searching for her kidnapped sister, and he'd handed her over to Damage Control.
"They brought her into custody for... oh, this is great. Observation and study."
"So experimentation and torture?" (y/n) asked, popping into the back of the screen.
"Yes. Wait, who are you?"
Peter shooed her out of the camera and quickly shut down Yelena's questions. With a quick thank you, Peter ended the call and found (y/n) pacing in her room.
"I know you've gotta go, but Pete, please be careful. Rescue her, but don't forget she's still dangerous."
He gently cupped her cheeks, cutting off her rambling. "I will be, okay? I promise."
"Okay," she whispered. "Now go save the day, Spider-Man."
Then he was gone, swinging through the city like a madman as he raced to Roosevelt Island. Back at the docks, (y/n) continued to pace. Her stomach rolled at the thought of Peter facing Jean and Damage Control alone.
She had to do something.
"Dad!"
~~~
Myrtle's tired screeched to a halt as Frank slammed on the brakes to avoid the ten-car pileup. They both hopped out of the car with furrowed brows. Everyone within the shimmering dome stood frozen. A little white dog's leash was caught halfway down the strap. It frantically barked at its frozen owner.
(Y/n) smiled as she thought of Peter's fake story from the day before. His explanations were always hilarious because she knew the truth about his daily habits.
"Yo, kid!" Frank hollered into his comms. "We've got a problem. The girl's frozen everyone within a mile-and-a-half radius of the island."
"Okay. I'm here now. Is (y/n)-"
She flipped on her comms. "Hey, Spider-Man."
"What?! Why aren't you at Frank's?!"
"We thought you might need backup."
"I've got it under control, alright. You need to go back-"
Frank shook his head. "She's safer with me, kid. Trust me."
"Alright. I gotta go. Frank, I've got a plan. Don't interfere with it."
The comms cut out without another word, and the pair's eyes met. It only took one second for (y/n) to know he would never listen to the young hero. If there was one thing about Frank Castle, he always had a backup plan, a failsafe.
He hurried over to the van. "Get in."
They sped down the streets, laying on the horn as they swerved through traffic to somewhere only he knew. Frank pulled over and grabbed his rifle case from the trunk before running inside the nearest building. (Y/n) followed him up the stairs to the roof, where he quickly assembled his rifle.
"Spider-Man said not to interfere. You better not use that unless you're sure you have to."
"I'll do whatever I see fit. And what's with you and Spider-Man?"
"Oh, just shut up," she groaned. "You're reaching."
"Really?"
"Yes, now--Dad! It's expanding!"
"Okay, okay." Frank rested the bipod at the edge of the building and set up the shot. It only took him a moment to adjust for the range.
BANG.
(Y/n)'s brows lifted, and she stood as she scanned the city around her. "It's gone! You did it." She tapped her comms. "Spider-Man, the dome's gone!"
Silence.
"Spider-Man?"
The next thing she knew, Frank grabbed her arm and rushed them down the stairs and out of the building. The stricken expression on his face told her something was wrong. Was he upset about shooting Jean?
So upset that he left his specialty long-range rifle?
"What's wrong?" she asked as they climbed into the car and sped toward the Roosevelt Island bridge. Other than the occasional grunt, he didn't respond. "Dad?"
It was only when they arrived at the Damage Control facility that it all came together. She sprinted behind her dad toward the shattered facility. Frank pushed through the ajar door and froze for half a second.
There, in the center of the destroyed room, was Spider-Man. And he was lying in a widening pool of blood.
Frank was by his side in an instant, putting pressure on his pouring wound. "Hang on, kid. Hang on."
(Y/n)'s feet remained glued to the floor. She couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't come to terms with what had happened.
Her dad had shot Spider-Man. He had shot her boyfriend. He had shot Peter. Her Peter.
Then, as if everything crashed down on her at once, she ran for him with everything she had, sliding to her knees on broken glass beside him. Tears streamed down her face as she knelt over him, cradling his unconscious face in her hands.
"Peter? No, no, no, no," she cried. "Pete, you're gonna be okay. You hear me?"
"We gotta get him to a hospital. Now!"
Frank hoisted him into his arms with a grunt and dashed to the van. He laid Peter in the back, and (y/n) jumped up with him while her dad put the pedal to the metal.
"Put pressure on it! There should be some, uh, a med kit back there."
With one hand pressing on the wound, she rummaged through the junk around her until she found a roll of gauze. (Y/n) pushed against the wound using her full weight, begging him to stay with her.
"We're so close, baby. Come on."
"One minute out!"
The minute passed in what seemed like a few seconds. Then the doors flew open, and Frank hoisted Peter into his arms again. Just as he was about to make for the doors, (y/n) pulled his mask over his head.
"He'd--he'd want-"
Frank didn't need a further explanation as he bolted through the automatic doors. "Get me a medic! Now!" he bellowed.
In a flash, Peter was on a gurney and being rolled down the hallway as hospital staff swarmed his bed. Hands quickly cut his suit and removed the mask as they got to work. (Y/n) and Frank tried to follow, but two nurses stopped them.
"I'm sorry. You can't go back there. The doctors need to work."
"The hell I can't!" yelled Frank, pointing at the crowd disappearing down the hall.
After the threat of calling security was raised, he stepped back and sank into the closest chair, dropping his head in his hands. (Y/n) stood motionless as she stared down the hallway. His blood, Peter's blood, soaked her dark tactical jacket down to the skin. She still felt the fading warmth of his body beneath her touch as she slowly looked down at her hands.
Drying blood covered every inch---caked beneath her nails, the crevices of her shaking hands. Her vision blurred, and everything became too much. She numbly followed the signs to the bathroom, where she collapsed and emptied her stomach into one of the toilets. Then she dry heaved when there was nothing left.
And when that finally ceased, (y/n) just leaned back against the bathroom stall and let everything go. She held herself tightly as she sobbed, shaking uncontrollably until the emotions ebbed into numbness.
She stumbled over to the sink, leaving pink splotches on the white porcelain. (Y/n) scrubbed and scrubbed until her hands were raw. The only blood beneath her fingernails was there due to her own cracked nails. Her eyes caught on the pink soap as it swirled down the drain.
But when she caught sight of herself in the mirror? That's when things truly fell apart. Eyes red and swollen, tearstains streaking through smears of blood, clothes still slick with Peter's blood...
(Y/n) took a shuddering breath and braced her hands on the sink.
"He's okay. He's gonna be okay," she whispered to herself. She needed to believe it. Had to. A life without Peter seemed heartless, devoid of all warmth and love. Of course she loved her dad, too, but that was different.
Her dad.
Emotions warred within her at the thought. He shot Peter, but he was trying to save everyone from Jean. Anger and sadness. Frustration and understanding. In the end, an overwhelming exhaustion won out.
She washed her face and cleaned her clothes to the best of her ability before returning to her dad. Two chairs had been moved directly beside the ICU doors for the two of them in their own makeshift "waiting room."
Frank glanced up when he heard her footsteps. "So I guess I have met Peter Pan, huh?" he croaked, shaking his head when emotion filled his voice.
She only nodded as she sat beside him.
"I am so sorry, sweetheart. I..." Frank trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He took a moment to compose himself before continuing. "I messed up. Bad. And I hate myself for it. I'm so sorry."
(Y/n)'s eyes burned once again, and her throat closed up. Unable to speak, she reached over and grasped his hand, squeezing once. That was all it took for Frank to pull her into a hug.
A/N: A few of you wanted a part two... me included, so let's do this!
Part One
Summary: While saving his girlfriend from a new threat, Peter discovers a surprising connection between her and an old acquaintance.
Word Count: 1.4k
The three of them sat around the table, each with a bowl of chili in front of them. Peter's mind raced as his eyes darted between the two of them.
"Frank, I didn't know you had a daughter."
(Y/n) raised her brows, scooping a spoonful of chili into her mouth. "Adopted."
"Oh," said Peter.
Frank's eyes narrowed at him. "You got a problem with my chili?"
"No." Peter shook his head. "It's just... the mask. It kind of defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing."
Frank opened his mouth with a retort, but (y/n) beat him to it. "What happened to your face?"
He scoffed, pointing to Peter with his spoon. "Ask this dum-dum. He bashed up my van."
"Myrtle?"
"Myrtle."
Peter frowned beneath the suit. He'd been the one hiding so much that he never thought she'd been hiding anything. She'd said her parents were gone, which appeared true if Frank "adopted" her. But what would push a bristling man like him to do something like that?
That was a question for another day.
The trio finished supper before long, and Peter went off to work on his inhibitor. He was pleasantly surprised that Frank had the tools he needed. After the day he'd had, he was starting to learn to not count the man out. He couldn't help but overhear the pair's conversation from their spot in the living room.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "It's been a day."
"What happened?"
"One second I was on my lunch break, and then I was swinging here with Spider-Man."
By the creak of the couch springs, it sounded like he sat down beside her. "That girl... The kid said she's after you."
"I don't know why."
"You're not leaving this boat until I take her out."
"Dad-"
"No. I'll put a bullet between her eyes before I let her get to you again."
"I know," she whispered.
Silence stretched between them.
"How are you and Peter Pan, or whatever his name is?"
(Y/n) laughed softly. "We're good."
"Why haven't I met him yet?"
"Don't even act like you haven't done some crazy illegal background check on him."
"What? Me?"
Peter shook his head and pulled off his mask with a huff, suddenly aware that he was definitely prying. On his girlfriend of all people! Sure, Frank being her adopted dad was a bombshell, but he trusted her. She would tell him in her own time.
Before long, footsteps echoed down the hallway, and (y/n) emerged. Thankfully, he had the curtain pulled between them.
"I bet it's crazy having Frank as your dad."
A deep breath was the only indication she'd heard him. Too much, Peter thought. Leave it be.
"I didn't mean for you to find out this way," she said quietly.
He looked up from his work, brows furrowing. "What?"
"Can you come out here, please?"
What was going on?
"Uhh, sure."
He tugged back on the mask and slid back the curtain. (Y/n) sat on the cot with her hands on her head. When he entered, she looked up at him.
"Without the mask, Peter."
If his mind was already frazzled, that sent it into overdrive. "My name's not Peter," he sputtered, raising his hands. "I don't even know a Peter."
(Y/n) stood slowly and approached him, a slight smirk on her lips. "I'm not stupid."
Peter's mouth went dry. "I never said you were," he ground out.
And then she was only a foot away, smiling at him and slowly pulling up his mask until it rested on his nose. Her warm breath fanned against his face. "I know you, Peter," she whispered.
(Y/n)'s hands hooked around his neck and pulled off the mask as she closed the distance, soft lips meeting his. Peter responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. They pulled away, breathless, and pressed their foreheads together.
"Hi," she whispered when their eyes opened.
"Hi."
(Y/n) smiled. "You're Spider-Man."
"You're Frank's daughter."
She nodded, stepping back from him, but Peter kept his hold around her waist. "It's a long story."
"You don't have to tell me now. But when did you find out? About me, I mean?"
"About eight months ago."
Peter's eyes widened, then narrowed in confusion a moment later. "What? How?"
"It wasn't hard," (y/n) smirked. "You're always out at night, you cancel all the time, you always have random cuts and bruises. But what really sold it was the red and blue lint in your dryer vent."
He shook his head with a groan, closing his eyes. "I should've known. You never asked me about anything."
"I knew you'd tell me when you were ready."
"Yeah. Does, uh, does Frank... know?"
"No," (y/n) insisted. "I wouldn't do that to you. Besides, I think he might shoot you on sight."
Rolling his eyes, Peter pressed a quick kiss to her lips and moved back to his workstation. Her eyes roamed the screen as he sank into the rolly chair. "Peter, what is this? Arachnid DNA?"
So he told her everything---from his episode with the cacoon to the inhibitor he now worked on. By the end of his spiel, she stared down at him with tears in her eyes.
"You've been going through all of this alone? Pete. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to put you in danger. What happened to May... that was because of me. I couldn't live with myself if that happened to you, too."
A wave of deja-vu washed over him. He'd said the same words to her earlier, except it wasn't her. It was Jean.
"Well, now we're in this together," said (y/n), running a hand over his hair. "Let's get this figured out."
~~~
A few hours and brainstorms later, they figured out the goggles were messing with the inhibitor's magnetic field. Relief flooded his senses as it activated, lowering the arachnid DNA in his bloodstream.
"Are we sure this is a good thing?" she asked cautiously.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I don't want to turn into a monster."
"You could never be a monster."
Peter's gaze fell to the floor. "(Y/n), you haven't seen what happens when it takes over. I-I can't control myself."
"I understand, but pushing it down... that can't be good."
Before he could respond, Frank called out for (y/n), and she retreated to the living room with a sigh. They would talk more about it later. He used the time to set up a visual search for Jean Gray.
~~~
The next morning, Peter found himself sitting across from Frank, sipping a cup of coffee while he scoured the internet for any trace of the girl. He'd found nothing but a few adoption records.
"Don't bullshit me, kid. I know there's something you're not telling her."
"Alright," he sighed. "When Jean inhabited her, she, uh, made her jump off the roof."
"And why is she being targeted?"
Because she's my girlfriend? Absolutely not.
"I'm not exactly sure."
Frank didn't seem convinced, but didn't push him. "Thanks for keeping her safe."
"Yeah."
A chime filled the air. SUSPECT SIGHTED.
"Jean's been sighted. Looks like she's attacking Damage Control HQ. I gotta go." He looked over his shoulder at the door she slept behind. "Can you make sure-"
Rolling his eyes, Frank scoffed. "You don't have to ask. Go."
A few moments after Peter disappeared, (y/n)'s door creaked open. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head at her dad.
"You're really gonna let him go alone? You owe him after Staten Island."
"Oh come on, sweetheart. You know I-"
"Dad."
Frank reluctantly rose from his chair, grabbing his vest from its hook by the fridge. It only took him a few seconds to grab all his equipment and stand before her.
"You stay here, you hear me?"
(Y/n) nodded. "Be careful."
"Aren't I always?"
With a kiss to her forehead, Frank followed Peter into the fray. (Y/n) stared at the door, saying a silent prayer that the two most important people in her life would return to her.
A/N: I just saw Brand New Day, and I was just blown away! Naturally, my brain filled with fic ideas! Here's to starting a new blog for only Spider-Man stuff! In this universe, MJ doesn't exist! Sorry lol!
Summary: While saving his girlfriend from a new threat, Peter discovers a surprising connection between her and an old acquaintance.
Word Count: 2.4k
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
"Hey, Pete! It's me! Are we still-"
The door swung open, revealing a disheveled Peter whose hair stuck out every which way.
"Hey," he said as his chest heaved.
(Y/n) raised a brow and kissed his cheek before pushing past him. "What has you so out of breath? Run a marathon?"
"No, I was-I was just, uh- working out and-"
"I'm kidding," she interrupted with a smile.
Peter huffed and sank into one of the two chairs at his "dining table." Dining table, workstation, counter space... that table did it all. Everything became multipurpose in such a small apartment. He wiped a few crumbs from the table while he watched (y/n) flit around the kitchen, telling him about her day at the coffee shop.
He listened intently about the group of teenage girls who'd spent the whole morning sitting across from each other without saying a single word. She absentmindedly chopped up the vegetables she'd brought from the store.
"What's the point of even hanging out if you're just gonna stare at your phone the whole time?" (Y/n) shook her head. "I don't get it."
He couldn't help but chuckle.
"What?" she asked with a raised brow.
"Nothing."
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh at me. How about you tell me what you did today, Parker?"
What could he say? Yeah, I passed out and then woke up in a literal spiderweb? Or I'm currently fighting against arachnid DNA taking over my body?
"I just... delivered some DoorDash orders. A little dog got out, and I had to chase it down."
The expression on her face changed from faux annoyance to suspicion. “What color was it?”
“White,” he answered immediately.
“Hmm.”
Then she went back to cooking. Peter got up to join her, but then he bowed over, clutching his head with a hand on the chair for balance. (Y/n) ran over to him and helped him to the couch.
"Pete?" she sputtered, kneeling in front of him with her hands resting on his knees. "Hey, hey, hey. I'm here. What can I do?"
Her only answer was another groan as he tightened his grip on his head. Peter's headaches had started a few months prior and got progressively worse. This was the worst she'd seen.
(Y/n)'s eyes scanned the room, thinking of what she could do to help when they landed on the medicine cabinet. Advil. It wouldn't do much, but it would give him a little relief... right?
Promising she'd be right back, (y/n) sprinted to get the bottle and a glass of water. By the time she returned a few moments later, it appeared the worst of it had passed. She got him to take a few pills before sitting next to him.
She soothingly ran her fingers through his curls. Peter leaned into her touch as she whispered. "Feeling any better?"
Peter nodded slightly.
"Good... Babe, have you been to the doctor yet? They keep getting worse and-"
"I'm fine," he ground out. "I don't need to go. The meds are helping."
(Y/n) opened her mouth, but Peter beat her to it. He squinted over at her. "Dinner's burning."
"Shoot."
With a gentle kiss to his hair, she got up and sprinted to the kitchen. A sharp pain rang through his head at the loss of her touch. He didn't understand it-how he'd become so attached so quickly. One day he was content with being alone. But then the next, she was there, smiling at him from across the hall as she moved in.
And a year later, he couldn't imagine his life without her. Gone were the days of endless Little Caesars boxes littering his apartment. Instead, he had home-cooked meals most nights before patrols. (Y/n) brought back a light in his life that had long been extinguished... a warmth that had disappeared when May died.
May would like her. Peter had no doubt about that.
His heart beat a little faster, and his mind got fuzzy in her presence. He knew love was the word to describe how he felt, but saying it out loud made it more real. More dangerous.
The closer they got, the more danger she was in. Peter had battled within himself time and time again about telling her, but he could never justify putting (y/n) in more danger. So he kept her close, but just shut out, just far enough away to keep her from knowing the truth about him.
But a few days later, when the... thing that was inhabiting people found him, it shook him to his core.
"You know, your apartment is just what I expected. A sad, twenty-something man's apartment. Imagine my surprise when I read the letter on the fridge. Sweet really."
Peter's brows furrowed beneath his suit. "You're bluffing."
They had to be.
"Am I?" Then the thing jumped across the way to inhabit a man walking by. "Does (y/n) know about this side of you, Peter Parker? Does she know about the… monster inside you?"
Peter took a step closer, ignoring the forming pit in his stomach. “What do you want? V-MAX? You’re not getting it.”
The person laughed. “I can get whatever I want. I think (y/n) would love to know that her beloved boyfriend is New York’s favorite web slinger.”
“You don’t know where she is.”
“It’s a long way to the coffee shop.”
His heart sank. The letter. She’d talked about going there on their first date. And there was the picture hanging beside the letter of them. Peter was pretty sure you could see the window art behind them.
Before he could move, the thing switched to a woman twenty feet away. “Race you.”
And then he was off, frantically swinging through the city after the thing as it inhabited person after person. Peter couldn't, wouldn't let it near (y/n). If anything happened to her... no, he couldn't think about that. But then the thing inhabited the helicopter pilot, and Peter thought it was over. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as he frantically got E.V. to figure out its max jump distance.
33 feet.
Peter managed to trap the thing by webbing the helicopter to a crane, suspending it with no one inside the jump radius. He breathed a little easier as he swung to the bakery.
He checked the time on his HUD. 2:30. She'd be on her lunch break, probably eating her sandwich on the roof of the building like normal. Peter smiled at the memory of that conversation.
"Why do you go up there?"
(Y/n) shrugged, smiling over at him. "I just like feeling the sun on my face."
It was the little things that made him love her. How she cooked for him without being asked, how she never pried about his past, how she was always patient when he had to cancel. But most of all, how she grounded him. Spider-Man had started to take over Peter Parker's life.
But then she'd arrived.
Peter found her just where he thought he would, sitting in a ratty beach chair atop the building. The crust of her sandwich lay in the plastic bag on her lap. Perching on the far corner of the building, Peter found himself watching her for a few moments.
A warmth he could only describe as adoration settled inside him where worry and fear had been occupying minutes earlier. She was safe.
But if this thing could travel that fast, he had to get her out of here. But where was far enough from people to keep her safe? Then it hit him.
Who was the one person who isolated themselves from everyone and could actually defend her if need be? Frank.
He turned on the voice changer on his suit and hopped down from his perch. "Miss (y/l/n)! You need to come with me right now. You're in danger."
She whipped around so fast that she almost fell out of the chair, barely managing to catch herself before shooting up. "Spider-Man? What are you talking about?" she sputtered.
"There's no time," he said with a shake of his head. "Someone's after you, and we need to get you out of here. Right now."
"But-"
"We gotta go." Peter extended a hand to her. "Trust me."
(Y/n) narrowed her eyes for half a second as she came to a decision. After a moment, she sighed. "Okay."
In a flash, she was in his arms, clutching him for dear life as he swung them across the city. Holding her close eased some of Peter's anxiety, but he wouldn't feel completely at ease until they reached Frank's.
"Hey! Spider-Man!" She cried, tapping his shoulder. "Put me down and tell me what's going on! Now!!"
They didn't have time, but he swung them onto a nearby roof anyway. She immediately stepped back from him. He expected her to run her hands through her now-tangled hair, but instead she bent over and placed her hands on her knees. After taking a few deep breaths, she stood up and approached him with wide eyes.
"What's happening right now?"
"There's this thing... it-it can inhabit people and control them," Peter stuttered. It was even scarier saying it out loud. "And now it's coming after you. We've got to get you out of the city so it can't reach you."
Her brows drew together. "Why is it after me?"
Peter took a moment to think. 'Because you're my girlfriend' didn't seem like the best answer at the moment. "I don't know."
"You don't know? Then how do you know it's coming after me?"
"I just do, okay?!" He took a few steps toward her so they were only a couple of feet apart. His voice softened. "You're going to have to trust me."
"I don't know you."
"(Y/n), please."
The desperation in his voice appeared to convince her. "Fine. But I need to let my boyfriend know I'm okay."
Peter couldn't help but chuckle. The irony of it all. "I'll take care of it."
"How do you know my boyfriend?"
"Peter, right?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "He, uh, delivered my DoorDash the other day. Told me about his girl who loved Spider-Man. Even showed me a picture. Respectful guy."
She turned from him, pacing. "He didn't mention that," she muttered. (Y/n) stopped pacing and wrapped her arms around herself, standing on the edge of the building and staring out over the city. "I think he’s cheating on me.”
“What!? No!” Peter’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “He’s crazy about you, (y/n), I swear!"
She peered at him over her shoulder, eyes shining with tears. "And how would you know that, Spider-Man?"
"Because I..." Peter trailed off.
He had to tell her.
Turning off his voice changer, Peter approached her. "Because I know how I feel about you, (y/n)."
"Peter?"
Her face morphed from sadness to confusion as she recognized his voice. She raised her hands to his shoulders, then up to his face before slowly peeling off his mask.
"Hi," he whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It's because I-I love you, and I don't want anything to happen to you because of me."
(Y/n) shook her head at him, hands resting on his face. "You could've told me. And I love you, too."
Their lips met a moment later. She threaded her fingers through his hair as they kissed. Pulling away, she smiled and turned back toward the edge.
"It's funny, you know?"
"What?" he chuckled, unable to stop a wide grin.
"That you thought she'd accept your lies."
Peter's smile dropped. No, no, no, no...
(Y/n) turned around to face him, backing her heels to the edge of the building, sending a few rocks tumbling to the street below. Her face no longer held the warmth he'd seen moments before.
"Still didn't mention the monster inside you, Peter."
He held out his hands. "Please, just leave her alone. Please."
Then she was falling, nothing but air between her and the street. Peter darted after her and managed to wrap his arms around her just before she hit the pavement. He propped her up against his chest.
"Hey, hey, hey. You're okay," breathed Peter.
(Y/n)'s chest rose and fell slowly, and he felt like he could breathe again. That was until a car pulled up and its driver got out. The inhabited man threatened them one last time before getting back in and pulling away. Peter's HUD managed to get a picture of the culprit.
It was a girl. A teenager.
He would find out her identity later. The unconscious woman in his arms was his only priority. Wrapping his arms around her, Peter took off through the streets, swinging toward Frank's.
They were almost there when (y/n) came to. She started thrashing in his hold for a moment before realizing she was a hundred feet in the air.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! How'd I get here!? Spider-Man?"
"It's okay! I'm taking you somewhere safe, alright? Just breathe."
To his surprise, she only held him tighter and didn't ask any questions. Only when they landed at the docks did she speak.
"Look, I need to tell-"
He nodded back at her. "Your boyfriend knows you're safe."
"Okay, thanks, but that's not what I was saying," (y/n) said with a smile. "Make sure to watch where you're-"
Click.
A moment later, Peter set off a series of booby traps that ended with them rolling down into the dry dock. "You good?" he asked breathlessly.
(Y/n) nodded and rose to her feet just as a rough voice echoed through the empty warehouse. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
Peter raised a brow. "Didn't really have time to call, Frank."
"Not you, daffodil," Frank scoffed. "Sweetheart, what are you doing with web-slinger here?"
Sweetheart?
She shrugged. "I don't really know."
"Why is she here, kid?" said Frank, his attention returning to Spider-Man.
"There's this thing after her, and I need somewhere to keep her safe."
The man's face shifted to something resembling worry. Peter had never seen the expression on Frank's face before. He'd expected to have to convince him, but he only scanned the dock's entrance before smiling down at (y/n).
"Made your favorite chili."
Peter glanced between the two of them. "You two know each other."
Peter starts feeling new effects of his newly heightened senses, while you begin to feel a sense of being watched over.
Peter Parker X Reader, Y/N
one shot | 2,089 words
warnings: Peter acts more spider than human, not entirely in control of his body, spider mating ritual aspects mentioned
You watched the dark clouds roll in overhead as you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself. You normally walked this path home with someone next to you the whole way when you were done with your university classes, but the walk home had been lonely as of late. You missed his soft jokes he would make, the quiet parts of nature he would point out, his kind gestures, the way his eyes sparkled when the sun hit them. You missed Peter.
Peter is your best friend you knew that, but lately he's been disappearing more and more, and when he is there by your side, he still feels like he's not really there like he is miles away from you. Every conversation has felt distracted; plans fall through with hurried excuses as to why he can't show time and time again. You want to be there for him, to be patient and stay by his side with whatever he might be going through right now. How do you be there for someone though, when it feels like they don't want you to be there?
Your chest aches at the thought your eyes drifting down to the leaves that have begun to fall littering the sidewalk with crunches following under each footstep. This was your favorite time of year, and he would normally smile as you told him that, watching you childishly stomp the leaves looking for the perfect crunch. You shook your head at the thought and counted the steps as you make your way, but an uneasy feeling has starting to curl and wrap tightly around your body seizing your senses. You didn't feel as alone on this walk as you previously thought, you tense a moment as you realize what this uneasy feeling is, the hair on the back on your neck standing on end like a live wire.
A burning gaze has latched onto your back, and you can't be quite sure where it's coming from. The dark clouds have covered the sun quickly shrouding your path in sinister shadows that feel as though they could reach out and grab you at any moment's hesitation. You can't help the quick peek you take behind your back trying to make out if there's a figure following you, but empty streets and flickering streetlamps are all that grace your presence.
You sigh a small, relieved breath and hope the feeling was just that, a feeling. You turn and pick up your pace slightly, pushing yourself to make it home. Even if you saw no one out there, you could not shake the feeling that someone was watching you from the shadows, hungry and waiting for their prey to make the wrong move. You start to break into a full sprint when you hear your worst fear confirmed, heavy footsteps trailing after you and fast. You don't dare risk a glance back not now, not when you can hear its footsteps thundering over your own heartbeat. A pit of dread begins to well inside you when you realize in this escape you've been attempting, you have also gone sorely off path, and you have no clue where you had ended up.
Quiet has settled behind you again, you can't trust the silence though as whatever it was had appeared and disappeared within seconds. You do slow for moment though to catch your breath, keeping yourself alert to every sound around you, and try to get your bearings on where you are. Tall buildings are still in sight so you couldn't have strayed too far as you turn down a corner you catch sight of a familiar bodega you knew a certain someone usually frequents. You hurry again now knowing where you ended up, Peter's apartment was now much closer of a distance than your home, hoping that Peter is home or left a window open like he normally does. Unknown to you, you continued closer to the exact place your predator was hoping you'd run, falling easily into their web.
You race up the fire escape ignoring the rattling and groaning of the metal under every step upwards and almost cry out of relief seeing the open window you were so used to seeing. Throwing yourself in without hesitation and slamming the window behind you, your fingers trembled as you lowered yourself to the floor the nerves racking your body in waves as you finally begin to feel safe again. You had felt like prey being chased and disoriented, your head was still spinning and your eyes still locked firmly on the window you just barged through. Peter's room was dark and empty, the safety you briefly felt starting to slip through your fingers at the pin drop quiet surrounding you. His room normally exuded warmth and comfort but none of that feeling was left without Peter there to brighten it and console you.
Huddling in a corner far away from the window, you hoped the shadows would cover you enough in the case that whatever chased you was still lurking. You hoped that wasn't the case but with the way your hair was still standing on end, goosebumps prickling down your skin you knew it was still watching you. You're not sure exactly how long you waited for the feeling to go away but it was far long enough where you felt yourself start to drift in and out of consciousness, you were almost fully out of it when you finally heard something.
The window creaking open before being slammed back shut a moment later a silent click filling the room, you had forgotten to lock the window in your panic. Slight sticky noises follow the quiet tapping you hear rustling around in the shadows of the room, but you can't seem to locate the source, whatever it is doing its best to remain quiet and stealthy in its stalking. You can't be positive but you're sure that they're watching you even in the darkness waiting to see what you'll do now that you're trapped with it. The room falls quiet once more and somehow that feels worse than hearing the echoing taps of it moving about the room, no now it had found a spot it liked.
Strong arms reach out from the dark pulling you against the wall he'd been resting against, yanking you to his chest, sharp heavy breaths rolling along your neck as you try to regain balance. You feel his foot restlessly drumming against the ground next to you in a rhythmic pattern as he keeps his hold tight on you.
"Where do you think you're going?" A deep voice rumbled close to your ear, foreign but familiar to you all at once.
Your body was shaking like a leaf against the solid body, your mind and heart racing as you tried to think about what to do. His gloved hand moved up to grasp one of yours pulling it open it to place a small item in your hand before closing it back up. You feel something soft and sticky coating your hand, close to silk but not quite there. His breathing has turned quick and hot against your neck the longer he inhales your scent as he silently watches you try to unravel the mysterious item.
Slowly you realize it's webbing that is covering the item, webbing that has formed a cocoon like structure as if a spider had wrapped it. You tug gently at the webbing before uncovering a small necklace, you almost wanted to gasp at how perfectly it suited your tastes, it's exactly what you would pick out for yourself. In fact, the longer you looked the more it dawned on you this was the exact same necklace you had stared at in the window of a jewelry shop you had passed by a few days ago. How long had they been following you around without you noticing? You weren't entirely sure you wanted to know the answer to that.
A release of your arms is felt as you hear small steps back away from you, whirling around hoping to glimpse who this is. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you notice who it is, his face is exposed but half shrouded in the shadows, his eyes entirely pitch black, unnaturally so, fists clenching at his sides, shallow breaths heaving his chest, but it was still him.
"Peter?" Your hands reach out before you can even think twice, cupping his face as you search for what's making him act this way.
A deep groan escapes him as he leans heavily into your touch, his jaw unclenching and his eyes fluttering shut as if feeling relieved from the simple contact. Your eyes trail down to finally recognize the iconic suit covering his body from the neck downward, Spider-Man's suit, but that can't be right. Peter must be messing with you, but why was he trying to scare you that wasn't like Peter at all what was with him?
"Peter, what's wrong?"
His eyes opened again at your question; they were still an inky black and it was chilling you to your core every time you looked at them.
"Your scent is what's wrong." You take a step back at his words worrying that you're offending him by being so close, but an arm shoots out to pull you to his chest again.
You feel him trail his hands along your body taking in every response your body is giving him, his nose nudging against your neck.
"It's driving me insane, everything about you is driving me insane." You can feel your heart lodging further in your throat the more he talks, what are you supposed to say? He seems so out of it, how can this be him saying these things?
"Peter, this isn't like you. What happened?" Your concern is heavy but the way he's touching you is starting to cloud your mind.
A small smile makes its way to his face, but it does nothing to ease the worries in your mind as he pulls your hands together with one hand the other pulling back before spitting webbing at your hands securing them together ignoring your gasp as he places them behind his neck. He releases them and drags a hand to the nape of your neck tugging lightly on the strands pulling you to look at him. He keeps his grip firm and steady as he leans in licking a stripe up the side of your neck and the shell of your ear, nipping lightly as he pulled away.
"I think I'm the most me I've ever been actually." You knew you had always wanted Peter, and you had hoped he wanted you too, but it was hard to tell if what he was saying was real or not you wanted to believe it so badly.
You swallow hard as you eye him carefully, "You really want me, Peter?"
He nods his head quickly as his hands start to wander, pawing at you desperately, "Please Y/N, I need you."
You tug your secured hands towards yourself, bringing Peter closer in turn, a ball of nerves bundling up inside your stomach as you begin to lean in towards him. His lips meet yours hungrily, you felt as though you were being devoured but you didn't want it to stop. His hands explored quickly and fervently as though trying to memorize anything and everything about you that you'd be willing to give him.
His breathing only slowing to normal pace after feeling you tug him impossibly closer feeling your own hunger for him start to rise quickly in your chest. Your head still buzzing with excitement as he pulls away, you notice his eyes have shifted back to their normal state the dark depths nowhere in sight and his behavior has subsided substantially.
"Can you tell me what's going on Peter, please?" You ask quietly now that he seems more back to himself, still not trying to startle him or say the wrong thing.
He nods his head softly, a gentle hand coming back up to remove your arms from his neck as he smiles sheepishly frantic apologies spilling from him quicker than you can stop them. "I'm so, so sorry about all of this, I promise I'll try to explain everything. Let me help you out of this first, I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." You give him a small smile, feeling relieved to see him back to his nervous, boyish self.
SYNOPSIS: She knew her and Peter Parker were meant to be as soon as he walked into Stark Industries, call it feminine intuition.
PAIRING: TH! peter parker x stark!reader
WARNING(s): kissing, stalking jokes, hasn’t been proofread oops and peter being an absolute dork lol
💭: If you couldn’t tell, this is vaguely inspired by ‘Drop Dead’ by Olivia Rodrigo, and this was so hard to write I had mad writer’s block also shout out to @prongsletmoony for the post that inspired this oneshot <3
WC: 0.8k
If you had told Y/n Stark when she first met her dad’s new intern that she’d spend the next five years hopelessly in love with him, she wouldn’t be in the least surprised.
From the moment he stood in front of her with his windswept brown hair and perfect freckles, she knew this had to be kismet. She fell fast and hard. Of course, she’d never tell Peter how she felt, she could never ruin their friendship, so she was content with being his best friend, better that than nothing.
They had repeatedly been photographed together in public, which, of course, the media took and ran, labelling them as the newest power couple and plastering photos of them on “dates.” Of course, they’d always laughed it off, but they had never publicly denied anything.
Even in their personal lives, everyone assumed they were dating, they were glued to the hip. Tony had sat peter down during a lab visit giving him a stern warning not to mess with Y/n’s feelings.
“Are you nearly done yet?” Y/n groaned like an impatient child. Peter didn’t look up he just sighed from his spot on the edge of Y/n’s queen sized bed.
“You said we would be studying if I came over, and so far you’ve just been scrolling on your phone,” Peter lectured, a faint smile creeping onto his lips as ‘Just Like Heaven’ by The Cure faintly started playing in the background as he began to hum along.
Y/n just rolled her eyes, making her way over to Peter, who was, to his credit, focused on an AP World History book. Pages of writing sprawled around him. She peeked over his shoulder, reading the line he was on.
“So you think that post war Japan and the cure is more interesting than talking to your best friend, hm, Parker?” Y/n teased, leaning on Peter’s back, her head resting on his shoulder as he continued to write.
“We are talking,” Peter sighed with an absent minded smirk, losing his place in his reading. He nudged Y/n off his back with a small laugh as she landed on the other side of the bed with a small huff.
Y/n sighed casually, grabbing Peter’s phone, unlocking it, scrolling to his Instagram, preparing to spam his close friends’ story with photos of her just to annoy him. But what she found was somehow even better. His recently searched was filled with Y/n Stark fan pages and her account.
He had been stalking her profile.
She started hysterically laughing, which instantly caught Peter’s attention. His head snapped up to face Y/n, who was clutching his phone like a precious jewel. His eyes went wide. “What are you doing?” Peter squeaked awkwardly.
“Oh… nothing,” Y/n let out in between giggles. Peter slowly made his way towards Y/n, whose grip tightened around the phone.
“If you’ve uploaded seventy two photos of yourself onto my story again, you’re so dead,” Peter jokingly warned, trying to snatch his phone back from her.
“Pete, have anything to tell me?” Y/n cooed, a shit eating smirk finding her lips. Peter narrowed his eyes at her words, racking his brain.
“No?” Peter hesitated. Y/n turned the phone to reveal his recent instagram searches.
Peter froze, his eyes wide as he scanned the screen. Yeah, this looked bad. “Give me my phone,” he gulped.
“Care to explain, Joe Goldberg?” Y/n teased, gripping onto Peter’s phone, giggling.
“I am not a stalker,” he clarified, his voice sounding like a thirteen year old girl’s, and his face beet red.
“Oh, please do explain then, Pete,” she smiled, shrugging. Tilting her head and leaning in close to his face teasingly, he opened his mouth to speak before immediately closing it again, his gaze drifting from her eyes to her lips nervously.
“Peter? I’m just joking, I don’t thi- “ before y/n could even finish her sentence, Peter’s lips crashed into hers. She froze, holding her breath as he quickly pulled back, his face mortified like he’d just murdered her firstborn child.
“I am so sorry, y/n, Jesus, I wasn’t even th-“ this time he didn’t get to finish his sentence before she leaned in, cupping his face gently as she kissed him again. His hands moved hesitantly to her waist. She smiled against his lips as he melted into the kiss, her hands wandering to the nape of his neck. Peter gently groaned as Y/n pulled him on top of her, falling backwards onto her pillows. He breathlessly laughed into the kiss. Y/n’s heart could’ve exploded. She had dreamt of this moment, and now it was finally happening, and it was better than she could’ve ever imagined.
Peter slowly pulled away, his eyes taking in a breathless Y/n underneath him. Her face flushed, her eyes still closed and the biggest dorky smile he’d ever seen her with. Peter took a mental photo of how perfect she was, he never wanted this moment to end.
“So you are a stalker?” Y/n breathed, a giggle escaping her lips. Peter could only stare down at her, a lovesick smile on his lips.
Synopsis: Y/N hates her job because she is treated like shit and doesn't fit in with the women there, the men either, but when her old boss is arrested for tax fraud, Harry Styles steps in and he changes her whole life.
WARNINGS: talks of thoughts of suicide (briefly), adult bullying, weight troubles, bullying for weight, cursing, male-dominated workplace, some flirting, there's a dog!!
wc: 8k
I'm planning on this being a series
You sat in your car in the parking lot wondering if you should just turn around now, turn your car off a bridge, or go in and face another miserable day.
You needed the paycheck, especially to get this car fixed, so you turned it off, and went inside.
Mondays always started with a morning meeting and you hated it so much. Being the secretary meant you sat in the corner taking notes while a bunch of men came up with stupid ideas.
You sighed as you went up into the elevator. You could hear chatter from the conference room once you got off. You turned and stopped in the doorway when you saw a jaw-dropping sight.
The most gorgeous man in the world was standing up at the board, and it was not your regular boss that made you dread coming here everyday.
"Hello, everyone," the man said. "Your old boss, Mr. Schwartz, uh, well he fled somewhere after the IRS came to his door and well, now I'm… your new boss."
"I'm Mr. Styles. Please, take a nametag and write your name on it, so I can learn everyone's name."
You barely registered what this man said. Curly brown hair, haunting green eyes, dimples, and the body of a man that definitely works out. You picked your jaw up off the floor as you went to your normal folding table and chair in the corner. You opened up your laptop and opened up the program that transcribed notes, as well as a Google Document to add anything else you needed.
The men filed in, and you sat in the corner, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
When the meeting began, Mr. Styles cleared his throat. “Alright. Welcome. As some of you heard, Mr. Schwartz, um, got in trouble with the IRS, so I am the replacement for the time being.” He smiled. “This probably won’t be a typical Monday meeting as I’d love to open it for introductions and questions.”
“So, I will open that up now.”
One man raised his hand. “Yeah. I have a question.”
“Go ahead,” Harry prompted him.
“Who the hell are you and why didn’t they promote from within?” the guy, who you know as Gary, asked.
Harry cleared his throat. “Well, I’m just a temporary replacement until they can find someone else. I came from two floors up, from a different company, but in the same wheelhouse.”
The guy narrowed his eyes at Harry, but let him carry on. Harry went around the room and had everyone introduced themselves, even when two men made comments about it. “I feel like we’re in kindergarten.”
Harry ignored the comments and continued to go around the room.
“And you, what’s your name and title?” he said.
You didn’t answer because you were taking notes and looking down not thinking he would even acknowledge you.
“Miss?” he tried again.
You looked up now because you were the only woman in the room.
“Oh. Me?” you pointed to yourself.
Harry smiled. “Yes, Miss. You are?”
“Oh. I’m just the secretary. I’m nobody important,” you said quietly.
“Secretary’s are very important,” Harry said. “Sometimes they do the most work out of anybody.”
You blushed.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“(Y/N),” you said, sitting up more in your seat.
“Nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Harry nodded.
“You too,” you whispered and then smiled as you looked down at your laptop.
You could barely concentrate the rest of the meeting, but took notes as you could when it got to the important stuff.
When it came to one topic, you had to roll your eyes because, as usual, they could not agree, and the ideas they came up with got them nowhere.
You had an idea, but nobody would listen to you. You sat up in your chair and shook your head at every single one of the dumb ideas. You could see Harry getting frustrated too. Eventually, he sighed and turned to you. “(Y/N), do you have any ideas?”
The man you knew as Dick snorted. “Her? Like she said she’s just the secretary. She doesn’t get to make important decisions.”
You pouted and sat back in your chair. They never took your opinion into consideration. If it was one of the skinny women in the office, they might consider it, but you had cellulite on your legs and a big stomach, so they couldn’t care less.
“Did you have an idea?” Harry asked.
You shook your head and gave a weak smile.
“I saw something cooking in your brain, (Y/N). I know you want to say something,” he said.
“Well, I just thought maybe if we offered like a two-for-one deal. Like you subscribe to the Malware service, we’ll give you 20 percent off a gadget of your choice. We’d be gaining some profit that way.”
“We’ll lose 20 percent, duh,” a man named Seth said.
“But, we’ll be getting more profit in from the gadget that someone wouldn’t be buying before. So, we’ll still have a 75 percent profit, because right now were only at 5 percent as far as gadgets and accessories are concerned,” you played with your pen.
Harry nodded. “That’s honestly the smartest idea I’ve heard this whole meeting.”
You blushed and sat back in your seat.
The men at the table rolled their eyes. They started shouting over each other and pointing at you. “Gentlemen, Gentlemen, shhhhh,” Harry gestured for the noise to come down with his hands. “We’ll reconvene on this next week. You’re dismissed.”
The men all got up and walked out of the room. You turned off the recording device and your laptop and gathered your papers and such before standing up.
“(Y/N),” you heard Harry say, which made you cringe because anytime Mr. Schwartz called you over, it was not for something good. “Hang back a bit, ok?”
You nodded, giving him a faint smile.
Once everyone cleared out, you took your supplies and walked over to Harry. “I-I’m sorry for speaking out like that. I didn’t mean to step on anyone’s toes.”
Harry raised an eyebrow at you.
“It won’t happen again,” you quickly added.
“Why are you apologizing for inputting your idea? It was the only thing that made sense during this whole meeting,” Harry said, sitting on the edge of the big table.
You looked down at the floor and shrugged. “Because I’m usually encouraged to just sit in the corner and keep my mouth closed.”
“Well, not with me around. Everyone should and will express their opinions around here, whether you are a higher up or a secretary or the man who fills the vending machine,” Harry stated.
You picked your head up and nodded.
Harry cleared his throat. “So, you’re my secretary or the general secretary for everyone?”
“Yours. Well, I was Mr. Schwartz’s, so I guess yours now,” you felt your face get hot. “But, everyone comes to me with stuff.”
Harry nodded. “Perfect. Well, I’ll make sure that we have a comfortable working environment. (Y/N), don’t be shy to come to me with anything. Work-relared or not, alright?”
You nodded.
Harry stuck out his hand for you to shake. “It’ll be nice working with you.”
You stuck your hand out and shook his. “I hope so.”
~~~~~~
You had never left this job with a smile on your face before. Until now. After the meeting, you sat at your desk and did your normal day to day duties.
Harry stayed in his office most of the day, but came out every once in a while to grab paperwork he needed, etc.
When he came out around 1:30, you were surprised. He stood right by your desk. “Did you go to lunch yet?”
“Um, no. Normally, I don’t, no.”
“Well, sign off and go on break. It’s getting late already,” he said.
You were stunned into silence. Your old boss would rarely let you take a break, especially if you were behind, and he made you stay late too without one.
“Oh,” you said. “Ok. Thank you.”
Then at the end of the day, you almost passed out when Harry told you to clock out two minutes after your day was supposed to end.
“What are you still doing here? Time to go home,” he said.
“Oh, well, I’m not done with this one complaint filing and I-.”
Harry shook his head. “That can wait until tomorrow. It’s time to go.”
You stared at him for a full minute before you processed what he said. “O-Ok.”
“Why do you look so shocked?” he asked, as he grabbed your coat from the back of your seat.
“I just… I never leave work on time. I’m usually always staying past my schedule time and then whatever I don’t finish, I take home and do,” you said, slipping into your coat.
“Please, do not take your work home. Nothing is that important that you need to spend your time off the clock doing work,” Harry said.
You nodded as you buttoned up your coat. “Ok. Thank- thank you.”
Harry stuck his hand out, gesturing for you to leave before he walked and closed up the office. He also let you get on the elevator first, which was something that never happened.
It was awkward silence at first, until Harry cleared his throat. “You must’ve gotten great overtime when you stayed later.”
You laughed. “Overtime? No. That’s not a thing around here.”
“Well, then he let you leave early the next day, right?”
You shook your head. “Nope.”
Harry blew out a breath as the elevator reached the lobby. “Wow. That’s-that’s not legal.”
You shrugged as you stepped off. “But, he never got caught, sooo…”
Harry rolled his eyes as he held open the door for you. “That’s no way to treat your employees.”
“Yeah, well… that’s why I hate it here.”
As you walked through the parking lot, Harry frowned. “Even after today you hate it here?”
“Maybe a little less,” you blushed and looked down.
Harry smiled. “Good. Good. I just want my employees to feel safe and valued, even if it’s only temporary for me.”
You sighed. “God, where have you been all this time?”
“Just two floors up,” he pointed.
You giggled. You soon realized you had reached your car. “Well… this is me.”
“Ahh.”
“It was nice meeting you. I’m glad we get to work together,” you held out your hand.
Harry held his out and smiled. “Me too.”
When you both pulled away, you got into your car and Harry closed the door for you. Once he knew you were safe and in your car, he made his way over to his.
Just as he was about to get in, he heard your horn beep from you hitting on it. Your crappy car wouldn’t start. You felt like you were going to cry. This couldn’t be happening now. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe this new boss wasn’t all he seemed to be.
You put your head on the steering wheel and groaned.
What felt like an eternity, but was probably a minute, went by and you heard a tap on your window. You jumped up, startled. It was Harry, so you rolled down your window.
“Everything alright?”
You shook your head and pouted. “My stupid car won’t start.”
“Hmm. Maybe I could take a look? I know a bit about cars.”
You got out and gestured for him to get in. Harry turned your keys and tried to start it. Nothing. He even jumped your car with his jumper cables and it didn’t even make a peep. He tried a few more things before he stood next to you, grabbing your shoulder and patting it. “I’m afraid she’s passed. Sorry.”
You sighed. “Yeah. She was on life support anyway.” Then you mumbled to yourself, “Shit!”
You picked up your phone and looked up the bus schedule. You would get an Uber, but in rush hour traffic, it’d be way more than you could afford to lose, especially now that you needed a new car.
You sighed when you checked the times. “You alright?”
“No,” you felt like you were holding back tears. “The next bus doesn’t come for another hour.”
You grabbed your purse out of the car and started to make your way to the bus stop.
“Hey.” You turned around at Harry’s voice. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but I could give you a lift.”
“Oh no. I couldn’t ask you for that.”
“You didn’t. I offered,” he smiled.
“I live like 30 minutes away.”
“That’s alright,” he said, getting his keys out of his pocket. “Just tell me which direction and I’ll take you there.”
You bit your lip. You really didn’t feel like taking the bus.
“Grab whatever you need from the car and let’s get in mine,” Harry moved his head to the right in the direction of his car.
You nodded, grabbing whatever you needed from the dead vehicle and then walked to Harry’s car with him by your side. He even offered to take some things out of your hands.
Harry put your stuff in the back seat of his Lexus and you practically gawked at the car. When you got in, you swallowed. You’ve never been in a car this nice before. You took it all in as Harry turned on his car, which by the way was with a button.
When he got out of the parking lot and onto the road, he looked over at you. “You’re quiet suddenly.”
“I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “Wow. I’ve never been in a car this nice.”
“Oh,” he said, turning on his turn signal. “It’s not that nice.”
“Are you kidding? It’s really nice.”
Harry just shrugged. “I need your address, by the way, if you could put it in.” He tapped the GPS on his dash.
You typed in your address and hit submit. “Just don’t stalk me please. I like my privacy,” you joked.
“Aww, but I was going to peep through your windows,” he joked.
You giggled. “Well, you wouldn’t find a nice sight if you did that.”
Harry tsk’d. “That’s not true.”
“Trust me. You’d be scarred for life.”
Harry rolled his eyes as he got into the turning lane. “None of that now. Come on.”
You hummed and looked out the window. The rest of the ride you pretty much sat in silence except for the radio playing in the background. When you arrived at your apartment complex, you told Harry to drop you off at the corner of the street, so you weren’t a bother and he didn’t see the crappy place that you lived.
“Please, it’s no bother,” he said, going further down the street until the GPS told him to stop. “Don’t want you to have to walk far in the dark.”
You pressed your lips together as he pulled into a spot in front of your apartment complex and parked. “Here we are.”
“Thanks, Harry,” you said. You opened up your wallet. “How much do you want for gas money?”
Harry pushed your wallet away. “I’m insulted.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to pay me.”
“But, you went really far out of your way and I’m sure you’d rather be home with your wife instead of sitting in a car with someone you just met for 45 minutes.”
Harry chuckled. “Well, no wife is waiting because it’s just me and my dog, Donald, at home.”
“Donald,” you smiled.
“Yeah. He has a duck shape on his side, so I figured I’d name him after Donald Duck,” he shrugged.
“That’s adorable.”
He blushed and looked out the front window. “Thanks.”
“Seriously though. Please, take the money. I feel really bad,” you offered him $20.
“No, I won’t take it,” he shook his head. “And if you keep asking, I’ll fire you.”
Your mouth hung open, but you smiled when you saw Harry crack a smile.
“Well, then.. Fire me,” you said, as you shoved the money into his cup holder and ran out the door.
“Heyyy!” you heard Harry say as you ran up to the door of the building. You were winded just from doing that.
You heard Harry’s door shut and he jogged up behind you as you unlocked the front. “I’ll walk you up.”
You couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on your face. “Ok. Thank you.”
Once you got inside, Harry rubbed his hands together to get warm as you waited for the elevator doors to open.
When they did, he let you step on first. You pressed the button to your floor as Harry stepped on. When the doors shut and the elevator started to rise, you began to talk. “Thanks again for the ride. You really didn’t have to.”
“Oh, it was no problem. Anytime you need a lift, just let me know,” he nodded.
When you got off the elevator, you walked down two hallways to get to your apartment. “Well, this is me.”
Harry hummed. “So it is.”
“Yeah,” you said, grabbing your keys out of your pocket.
“So, what time should I pick you up tomorrow morning?” Harry cleared his throat as he handed you back the money. You rolled your eyes and took it.
“Oh my God, no. I’ll take the bus,” you said, as you unlocked your door.
“I’ll be here at 7:00.”
“Mr. Styles,” you pleaded.
“Harry,” he corrected.
“Mr. Styles, it won’t be dark in the morning. I’ll be fine, honestly.”
“I’ll be here at 7. Do you take cream in your coffee?” he asked.
“Yes,” there was no point in arguing with him.
“Perfect. I’ll see you then. Have a good night,” he said, before shoving his hands into his pockets, nodding, and walking back down the hall.
“Bye,” you whispered as you stepped into your apartment.
When you did get inside, you stripped down to take a shower and relax. You heated up leftover pizza and vegged out on your couch, watching Friends reruns.
Right before you were about to go to bed, you wondered how you could pay Harry back without actually paying him. You thought about it and rummaged through your cabinets. This was how you wound up baking brownies at 11:30 at night and ended with a stomachache from eating half the batter.
After they were done, you took them out of the oven and let them cool before cutting them and putting them on a plate before heading to bed.
~~~~~~~~
Because you were up late the night before, your alarm came way too early in the morning. You groaned as you hit the clock and got out of bed. Luckily, you showered last night, so that was done. You really only had to eat breakfast, brush your hair and teeth, and get dressed.
Once all of that was complete, you covered the brownies with aluminum foil and waited on your couch for Harry. At 6:59, your buzzer rang. You buzzed back. “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Harry,” he cleared his throat. “Harry Styles.”
You smiled. “You’re early.”
“Oi. Are you not ready? I can wait in the car.”
You smiled. “I’ll be right down.”
You grabbed your purse and the brownies, checked your hair in the mirror, and headed out the door. When you got to the lobby, Harry was waiting inside for you with two coffees in his hands. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” you replied, taking the coffee from Harry’s outstretched hand. “Thank you very much.”
“Sure.”
You headed to Harry’s car and he opened the door for you. Once he closed yours, he walked around to his side and got in.
Once he got the car started, he looked over at you and the plate on your lap as you sipped your coffee. “What’s that?”
You bit your lip. “I made you brownies.” Harry looked over at you. “Since you won’t take money, this is how I show my appreciation.”
“(Y/N),” he sighed. “That’s really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do that.”
You shrugged. “You are the only person in the office who talks to me too, so…” you shrugged.
Harry looked over at you as you sat in traffic. He didn’t say anything. It was quiet for about five minutes until he hummed along to the song on the radio.
The drive in seemed a lot quicker than the drive home. Maybe you were anxious or maybe you felt more comfortable around Harry, you didn’t know.
When you got out of Harry’s car, you had ten minutes before your shift started. As you walked into the building, you saw your car getting towed. “Hey!” you ran over. “Hey stop!”
The man operating the tow truck looked at you, as you caught your breath on the side of the truck. “I- I was going to move it today. Please, don’t tow it away.”
“I was told to take it to the body shop down the street, Miss.”
“Huh?”
Harry appeared behind you. “Hello, sir. Thanks for getting here early.” The man tipped his hat at Harry and hooked your car up to his truck. You watched in awe as the truck drove you car away. “What-?”
You turned towards Harry. “What the hell was that?”
“I called the tow company to come and take it to the shop.”
“Why? No. Mr. Styles. You’ve already done too much. I’m going to write you a check when we get inside,” you shook your head.
“Shhh. Let’s start the day, shall we?” Harry tilted his head and gestured for you to follow him in.
You stayed quiet as you both went up the elevator together. When you entered the office, no one turned their heads in your direction. Harry greeted everyone and you stayed silent, briskly walking to your desk. You put your purse and your coffee down and then waited outside Harry’s office until he walked past.
“(Y/N), everything alright?”
“Yes, sir. I just wanted to give you the brownies,” you held out the plate.
Harry smiled. “Thanks again. Put them on my desk please.”
“Oh. Ok.” With your old boss, you were only allowed in his office if he was in there and if he told you to come in. This was new to you.
Harry was getting stuff ready for the day outside of his office for the morning meeting with a few higher ups, so his office was empty. He hadn’t set up his desk completely yet, but there was a picture of Harry, and you assumed Donald, sitting on the edge of it. He was a chocolate lab and looked young. You smiled as you placed the brownies on the desk.
You looked around and saw a few boxes, with what you assumed was his office supplies in them. And then you looked at the clock and panicked. The meeting started in one minute and you had to be there to take notes. “Shit,” you whispered.
You huffed it back to your desk, grabbed your laptop, notepad, and pen, and walked briskly down the hallway to the meeting room. You turned on the laptop as you walked. When you got to the door, you winced. Harry nodded in the middle of his sentence. “Sorry,” you mouthed.
You sat down quietly and tried to catch up. Harry talked a bit fast and with his accent it was hard to catch everything, but luckily your recorder picked it up. As you scurried to get yourself settled, Harry walked over to you while still talking. You thought you were in trouble, but he offered you a water bottle before returning to the front of the room. You were never more grateful than to have stuck it out at this job. You took a big swig and smiled at Harry, silently thanking him, when he looked over.
The rest of the meeting went fine and you headed back to your desk to file the transcript of the meeting and get started on your work for the day. Harry came back to his office about 10 minutes after you. He had the door shut as he was making phone calls for most of the morning, so you got a lot of work done. A little bit after 11, Harry opened his door and breezed past you. He went to the bathroom and came back shortly after. “Thanks again for the brownies, (Y/N),” he said as he walked by.
“Oh, sure. No problem. Thanks for driving me,” you said.
“Yeah. Anytime.”
When it came time for lunch break, you sat at your desk chair like you did every day and got your lunch from the mini-fridge. You realized quickly that no one wanted to sit with you in the cafeteria, plus you could catch up on work your old boss needed you to do, so it just became a habit.
Harry walked by with a water bottle. “Are you coming to lunch?”
“I usually eat here,” you gave him a small smile as you bit into your grilled chicken wrap.
“Awfully lonely.”
You shrugged. “Lonely in there too, so…” You kept eating as Harry walked back into his office. You never expected him to come back out with his desk chair and sit down in it on the side of your desk. “What are you doing?”
“Eating lunch,” he said.
“With me?”
“Yeah,” Harry chuckled, and opened his water bottle.
“Why?”
“Why not?” he shrugged.
You felt a lump in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears you felt coming. Harry smiled at you and you had to stop eating after you swallowed your current bite. You were definitely going to cry. “You don’t have to feel bad for me,” you said. “You can eat with everyone else.”
“I want to eat here,” he said.
You nodded and tried to get the lump down in your throat. “Where is your lunch?”
Harry chuckled. “I had packed one, but I ate so many brownies and now I think my blood sugar is high, so I’m sticking with water.”
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry,” you said, your eyes getting wide.
“No no. It’s fine. They were really good. I just don’t have self control when it comes to sweet things.”
“Oh,” your ears got hot. That was an innuendo if you ever heard one. You swallowed the lump in your throat and continued to eat. “Sorry I was late to the meeting. I-.”
Harry held a hand up. “You’re fine. You were like a minute late.”
“It won’t happen again, sir. Sorry.”
“(Y/N), seriously don’t stress over it. And stop calling me sir.”
“Sorry, Mr. Styles. Habit,” you chuckled.
“Harry. Call me Harry.”
You nodded as you went back to eating. Harry sipped his water as you finished up your wrap. Once you got up to throw away your trash, you came back to your desk and it was awkward. You cleared your throat. “Um…”
Harry smirked and put his chin in his hand as he rested his elbow on your desk. “Tell me your deepest, darkest secrets.”
You both cracked up laughing. Once you calmed down, you spoke up. “I think that’s more of a third-day working together type thing.”
Harry smirked. “You’re right. You’re right.”
You and Harry made casual conversation. You found out he moved here from England when he was a boy and that his birthday was February 1. You also found out that he was only three years older than you. You discussed your birthday as well as your home life. And by the time you were done, lunch was over. And you only realized that because everyone was coming back to their desks.
“Well, I better get back to work,” you said, cleaning up your trash.
Harry smirked. “Don’t want the boss to catch ya being late, hmmm?”
He rolled his chair back into his office and you giggled to yourself. He was making you feel some type of way, a way that you’ve never felt in this office before.
You got back to work. About 30 minutes after one of the women, Carissa, came up to your desk. “Hey, is he in there? I have to ask him something.”
She had a file folder in her hand, but you knew she just wanted to go and flirt with him.
Instead of answering her, you buzzed Harry. “Mr. Styles, are you busy? Carissa wants to speak to you.”
“Send her in” was his response.
You sent her in and could barely concentrate on your work when you heard her giggling in Harry’s office. About 10 minutes later, she walked out. “Thank you, Harry. That was very helpful.” You heard him mumble something and she closed the door.
You gave her a fake smile as she walked by you. You rolled your eyes once she walked past and then got right back to work.
You were almost done with your work for the day when Penny, the office whore as you dubbed her, walked up to Harry’s office.
“Um, hello?”
She looked over at you. “Oh, hi (Y/N). I need to speak to Mr. Styles,” she bit her lip and looked through the door. Harry looked up at that moment and told her to come in.
You groaned after she closed the door and finished up the last 10 minutes of your work. Since you were done and you only had five minutes left, you crossed your arms and faced Harry’s office. It was time to go soon, and you knew Harry liked to leave on time.
When it came time for you to go, you sighed, grabbed your coat and purse, buttoned your jacket, and shut off your computer. It was about 5 after at this point and Harry was still in the office with Penny.
You headed towards the elevators and pressed the button. As you checked the bus schedule, you heard someone calling your name. “(Y/N), wait!”
You looked up and saw Harry putting his coat on and briskly walking towards you. You put your phone in your pocket just as he caught up to you. “Give me 5 minutes and we can go.”
“It’s ok. My bus comes in 6.”
“No. I’m taking you home,” he said.
“Ok,” you nodded.
You leaned against the wall and waited for Harry to finish up what he had to do. It was more like 8 minutes than 5, but you didn’t mind.
“Sorry about earlier,” he said, as he pressed the elevator button. “She likes to talk,” he chuckled.
“Talk, right,” you said, as you stepped onto the elevator. Harry raised an eyebrow at you but didn’t ask you further what you meant.
Carissa got on the elevator right as you two did. She basically pushed you out of the way to stand next to Harry.
You folded your arms as Carissa clearly flirted with him. “Your advice was really helpful today. Maybe we could talk about it more over drinks? Maybe one Friday after work?”
“I don't think that’s appropriate,” Harry said.
Carissa grabbed his arm. “Well, coffee then.”
“Uh… sure.”
“Great!” She practically jumped in his arms. “It’s a date.”
Before Harry could correct her, the elevator dinged and you all got out. She waved to Harry and he stuck his hand up and waved back. But, she didn’t even look or wave at you.
You walked out to Harry’s car and got in it. He motorboated his lips as he started the car. “Long day.”
You nodded. “Yeah. Remind me to write you a check for the towing.”
Harry ignored you and turned up the radio loud. He began to bang his head and you giggled. When he sang, you were mesmerized. He actually had a really good voice.
“Don’t ignore me!” You giggled over the music.
“Sorry. I can’t hear you,” he said, pointing to the radio.
You laughed. You laughed so hard your stomach hurt. Harry smirked and turned down the music. “It’s on the company credit card, so no need to pay me back.”
“Sneaky,” you smirked.
“Mmm.” As he turned a corner, Harry said, “Remind me to put your number in my phone before I drop you off. Just so I can keep you updated on what the mechanic says.”
This time you smirked. Your stomach fluttered as you reached for his phone in the cup holder. You added your number and then put it back. “Just don’t text me too late. My husband will get mad.”
“Husband?” Harry asked.
You giggled. “I’m kidding. I’ve never been married.”
“Oh. Me either.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll try not to text too late,” he promised.
“It’s really fine. You won’t bother me.”
“Mmm.”
You talked more as you sat in traffic for a while, and you discovered you have a lot in common. You both like reading. Your parents are divorced. And you love animals. “Hopefully, I’ll meet Donald one day.”
“Yeah!” He said almost too enthusiastically. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. That’d be cool.”
You smiled.
The ride lasted about 5 more minutes and Harry parked out front. “You don’t have to walk me in. I’ll be ok.”
“Actually, I was going to ask if I could use your restroom.”
“Oh. Oh yeah. Sure,” you unclicked your seatbelt.
“Thanks!”
Harry got out of the car and followed closely behind you. When you got to your door, you immediately cringed. “I’m sorry. The place is a mess.” You went around cleaning stuff up.
“Don’t even worry. Where’s your-?”
“Oh, right.” You walked him to the bathroom. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
Your heart was beating fast as you scurried around your apartment and tried to clean up. You slipped off your shoes and put on your slippers that sat on the shoe rack by the door.
You were trying to be normal, but you just kept moving stuff from place to place thinking about what Harry was doing in your bathroom.
You eventually stood in your kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water just as Harry was walking down your hallway. He smiled at the photos on the wall as he passed by. “Thanks again, (Y/N). I wouldn’t have survived the trip back if I didn’t make a pit stop.”
“No-no problem.”
He smiled. “Well, I better get back. Donald is probably waiting at the door for food.”
You smiled. “I bet.”
“Goodnight, (Y/N).”
“Goodnight. Oh, wait a second.”
“Hmm?” Harry asked as he opened your door.
“Do you like tiramisu?”
“I love it. Why?”
“I was… going to bring you that tomorrow. If that’s ok,” you said.
“I’ll bring the plates.”
You giggled and nodded. “Ok. Good.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Bye. Get home safe,” you waved.
“I will.” And he was gone.
~~~~~
You got to work on the tiramisu. It wasn’t as easy as you thought it was going to be, and you had to redo it. There were ingredients all over your pajamas and multiple ingredients in the trash. As you stuck the second one in the oven, your phone chimed. You cleaned off your hands and picked up your phone.
Hi! It’s Harry. I’m home. The mechanic said your car is a lost cause and he can’t get it to start either. Wants to know if you want them to scrap it and they can give you the money for it. See you tomorrow.
Why was he so formal in texts?
Hi :). Thanks so much for taking care of that. Yes, that’s fine. I’m glad you’re home safely.
Great! I’ll let them know right away. Sorry about your car (Y/N).
Don’t worry about it, Mr. Styles. It was her time. She was an old girl.
Harry….
Mr. Styles
You can’t hear but I’m sighing right now
*laughing emoji*
You saw the three bubbles pop up and then go away and then pop back up again. You set your phone down as you cleaned up the bowls and things from the tiramisu.
Your phone chimed again. So… what are you doing?
I’m making your tiramisu. Well, I just finished actually
My mouth is already watering just thinking about it.
Haha. Idk how good it is. I had to redo it.
If it’s as good as your brownies, then it’ll be good
Your face was getting hot from his compliments.
We’ll see… what are you doing?
I was just about to work out
What you wouldn’t do to see that sight.
Oh. Well then I’ll let you to it
Alright, (Y/N). Talk tomorrow.
Good night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The tiramisu went on great and you continued to make Harry treats for the rest of the week until you got a rental car and could drive yourself in.
That next Friday rolled around and Harry seemed stressed. He had a lot of work to do and you barely saw him come out of his office. You focused on your work, however. He didn’t even come out of the office for lunch. So, you were back to eating by yourself at your desk again. Harry had eaten with you the whole two weeks he was there.
You two had gotten along great and you were thankful for that because you were on the verge of quitting. Harry had also gotten word that he was no longer temporary and now the permanent replacement for your old boss. This made you giddy inside and thanking God that you stuck it out. Not only was he kind, but he was also nice to look at.
The day flew by quickly, but you didn’t want it to end because that meant Harry would be going on that coffee date with Carissa. Harry was still nice to you, just not as friendly because of how busy he was.
When it came time to leave, you stood at his door and said goodbye. Since you had your rental car, you didn’t need to wait for Harry anymore. “Good night, Mr. Styles.”
Harry looked up from his paperwork and frowned. “Is it 5 o’clock already?”
“Yes, sir. 5:02 actually.”
“Well, I guess I better pack up then, hmmm?”
“I guess so,” you said, putting your purse on your shoulder. “Bye.”
You went to turn as you heard him say, “The ride home is going to be quiet tonight.”
You turned back. “You have your radio,” you smiled.
“Suppose I do,” he gave you a look that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Yeah,” you looked down, so your face didn’t get any hotter. “Enjoy your night.”
~~
When you went home that night, you vegged out on the couch with a tub of ice cream and a bunch of rom-com movies. You knew Harry wasn’t yours, but it still hurt that he was going out with this woman that wasn’t you. Although look at her and look at you. She was super skinny, beautiful, and could charm the ear off a dead horse. You sat on your couch daily eating ice cream and watching TV.
About halfway through Pretty Woman, your phone rang. Not chimed. Rang. It was Harry. You threw your phone on the table and watched it ring. You eventually picked up on the last ring. “Hello? Mr. Styles? Are you alright?”
“(Y/N).”
“Mr. Styles, what’s wrong? Aren’t you on a date?”
He shook his head even though you couldn’t see him. “I didn’t go. I have a headache. I’ve had a headache all day. And it wasn’t a date.”
“Yeah, well, Carissa thought it was.”
Harry groaned.
“Sir, if you have a headache, lay down and put a hot rag on your head,” you said, pausing the movie.
“Can’t. I have too much work to do.”
You tsk’d. “You’re the first one to say that we shouldn’t work off the clock.”
He coughed. “I know, but I’m the boss. I need to finish things.”
“You sound sick,” you frowned.
“I’m fine. I’ve got my tiramisu.”
You smiled. “I should make you some soup.”
“No. I couldn’t ask you to do that,” he coughed again.
“Do you like chicken noodle?”
“(Y/N), enjoy your Friday night. Don’t worry about me.” Another cough. “I’m sure you have much better things to do than make me soup.” His voice got hoarse on the last two words.
“Like laying on my couch watching Pretty Woman and eating ice cream?” you asked.
“That sounds incredible right now,” he sighed. “I just called to ask you if you had the case number for the client you were working on today.”
“I do,” you said, looking through your work bag. “I can text it to you.”
“Text, right. That’d be great,” he said sounding delirious and coughing.
You giggled. “Send me your address. I’m bringing you soup and the files from today.”
“No. No. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“So you are sick?” you smirked.
“No. Just… you know,” he laid down and closed his eyes. “Just in case.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you told him.
“Thanks, (Y/N). You’re the best.”
“Far from it,” you said. “I’ll see you soon.”
He just groaned before you hung up the phone.
You quickly packed up two cans of Campbell’s soup, no time to make homemade, saltine crackers, a rag, cough medicine, and Gatorade. You got dressed quickly, running a brush through your hair and headed out the door. You checked your phone for Harry’s address and put it into your GPS as you headed on your way.
~~~~
When you got to Harry’s condo, your jaw dropped. It was so much nicer than yours and huge. You knocked on his door and you heard him groan. He got up and pouted, but a smile came to his face when he saw you. “Hi.”
“Aww, Harry.” You put your hand up to his head. “You feel warm.”
He nodded. “Did you bring the soup?”
You chuckled. “I did. You want some now?”
“Please, (Y/N).”
“Alright. Go lay down. I’ll make it for you.”
Harry drug himself back to his couch, but he didn’t rest. He went back to work. If you could call what he was doing, working. He was just staring at the screen.
You went into his kitchen and opened every cabinet to look for bowls and spoons and whatever else you needed. Once you found what you needed, you put the soup in the bowl, laid crackers on the plate you put underneath it, and made him some tea, which you found on his counter.
You found a bigger plate and brought it out to him on the coffee table as he worked. “You really should rest.”
“Can’t,” he said, shivering.
“But, you should. You can finish this up on the weekend or Monday,” you reached over and closed his laptop.
“But…”
“Here’s your soup,” you said, pushing the plate in front of him.
He smiled. “These are my favorite crackers.”
“I’m psychic.”
He chuckled as he picked up his spoon and slurped the soup. “I’m sorry for calling you. I didn’t-. I don’t know why I called you specifically. I should’ve just texted. I mean we hardly know each other.”
“It’s ok. Honestly.”
“And I ruined your whole night.”
You chuckled. “Ruined? I was on the couch, watching a movie I’ve seen 50 times. It’s not like anyone is asking me out.”
“They should be,” he mumbled as he took another slurp of soup.
“What?”
“Thanks for the soup,” he said.
“Sure. After all you did for me, it was the least I could do.”
“Mmm.”
After Harry finished his soup, he laid back and put the blanket on top of him. “Take a nap, Mr. Styles. That always makes me feel better.”
“It’s Harry,” he said, as he closed his eyes and adjusted his pillow behind him.
You took his empty bowl into the kitchen, and Harry caught your hand on the way in. “Can you leave the crackers, please?”
“Sure,” you smiled, putting them down on the table. He closed his eyes again and you went into the kitchen to clean up the bowl. Just as you did, you felt something nudging your leg. You jumped, but then quickly realized it was Harry’s dog. “Oh my! You must be Donald.” You leaned down and scratched him behind the ears, which caused him to sit. “Look at how handsome you are.” Donald laid down on the ground and you could really see the duck shape then. “Aww. Look at you. Did your Daddy forget to feed you, hmm? He’s sick and been busy.”
You looked around the kitchen and saw a big bag of dog food. Donald’s bowl looked nearly empty, so you figured you could feed him. You went to feed him and Donald followed behind you immediately, eating the food before you could finish putting it in his bowl.
“Thanks. I forgot to do that today,” you heard Harry sniffle behind you. You jumped, not expecting him.
You turned around. “No problem. I thought you were sleeping.”
“I felt bad with you here by yourself.”
You chuckled and stood up, putting the bag of dog food back. “I’m perfectly fine. I was just going to do your dishes and then go.”
“No, don’t go,” he whined. “Please.”
“But, you need to sleep.”
He whined. “Fine.” Harry walked back to the living room and you followed behind him to make sure he actually was going to sleep. As you followed behind him, he said he was going to his bedroom. And he started to strip off his clothes. “I’m sweating.”
His hoodie came off first and you saw his chiseled back. You cleared your throat and looked down at the floor. Once Harry reached his bedroom, which was immaculate, he took off his pants, leaving him in his boxer briefs. You looked everywhere, but at him. Harry reached over for a tissue and wiped his forehead. “Bloody hell, it’s hot in here.”
“You’re getting a fever,” you said, stepping more into the room. You felt his head. It was burning. “Do you have a thermometer?”
Harry laid down on the bed and nodded. “Bathroom.”
You turned around and walked down the hallway to find the bathroom. Once you found it, the thermometer was easy to locate. Everything was placed just so in the cabinet. You rushed back to the room, but Harry was already in bed, sprawled out on it, eyes closed.
You turned the thermometer on and held it up to his head. He opened his eyes when he heard the beep. “Sorry,” you whispered.
“Mmm.”
You waited for the numbers to pop up. “Oh no. 101.5. You definitely need to sleep.”
Harry groaned and put his arm across his head. You looked at him for good for the first time and swallowed. His chest and right arm were covered in tattoos. His muscles were bulging and his legs looked like they could crush a watermelon in between them. God damn, he was gorgeous.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N). You should go. Don’t want you to get sick.”
“I’m ok, Mr. Styles. I haven’t been sick in a long time.”
“Probably cause you’re a good girl and take all your vitamins, hmm?” Man, this man was delirious.
You chuckled. “Probably.”
“Go on. Can’t lose my best girl. Need you,” he said.
You chuckled nervously. “You don’t need me. No one needs me,” you got up and started to head out of the bedroom.
“I need you,” Harry whispered before he fell asleep.
You said goodbye to Donald, left a note for Harry that he needed to lock the door and to text you if he needed anything else, and then left back home.
You were now sweating in your car because you saw your boss practically naked and he called you a good girl and “his best girl.” You were sure you dreamt that or Harry was talking gibberish because he was sick. Because there was no way Harry Styles was into you.
Hear me out, narry roommate. They get stuck in their apartment because of winter weather. You could maybe write a week in their lives and show their ups and downs being locked inside with each other. Maybe yn gets sexually frustrated and is timid about masturbating knowing niall and harry would hear her. Harry gets angsty to leave but cant and starts aggravating niall and yn. Nialls just being niall and being perfect as always. Cleaning up and cooking maybe. Maybe at the end of the week yn period comes and she realizes she needs more tampons or pads and starts freaking out but Harry jumps at the opportunity to leave so he finally is able to leave and walks to a close store down the rd. When he gets back yn thanks him and they cuddle to warm up on couch and harry massages yn tummy. Fluffy, angsty, bit of it all.
WARNINGS: masturbating with someone in other room, talks of masturbating, talks of a breakup, cursing, lots of angst, period, fighting, one kiss, I think thats it.
Can be read as a standalone or with the series here. Enjoy!
wc:3.4k
You were set to get a blizzard this weekend. You all went grocery shopping on Friday and got the essentials and more. You would probably be snowed in for a few days so you stocked up on a lot of stuff.
After putting everything away, the snow began. Harry looked out the window and said, "I love snow! Loved playing in it as a kid."
"Yeah, but this is not fun snow. It's ice and a lot of inches and it's annoying," you scrunched up your nose, coming over to look out the window.
"Didn't think a lot of inches was a bad thing," Harry smirked.
You jokingly pushed him and he chuckled. Harry put his arm around you. "Gonna have fun cooped up in here with you guys," he said.
"I'm already annoyed," Niall joked.
"You love me," Harry smirked, turning to him.
"Mmm," he hummed, taking a sip of water.
"You love when it's cold and we cuddle at night," he teased. "Gonna be cold tonight, so I'll be the big spoon."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Niall said.
"Oh come on. Just admit it," Harry chuckled, poking Niall in the sides.
"We do not cuddle," he said.
"You maybe don't, but when you're sleeping sometimes I wrap you up nice and warm and put my arm over you," Harry said.
"No, you don't." Niall folded his arms.
"I don't but I should. You can be the big spoon if that's what you're worried about," Harry said.
"Jesus. I'm not cuddling you at all," Niall responded.
"Party pooper," Harry pouted, putting his hands on his hips.
You couldn't help but laugh at them. "This is only the first day we'll be stuck in here together. Please don't start a fight."
"Who's fighting? Niall just won't admit that he's the small spoon," Harry shrugged.
"God, I'm going to throw you out in the snow!" Niall said, walking away to do some laundry.
"Yay! I'll put my snowsuit on!" Harry replied.
You shook your head and laughed. "Harry, I think he was joking. They warned people not to go out."
"I wanna build a snowman," he pouted.
"Maybe in a few days," you tapped his cheek.
~~~~~~~~~~
The day turned into night and you were all doing separate things. You were in your room watching a very spicy movie and it got you kind of hot and bothered.
When it finished, you made sure to lock your door and look out in the hallway. The boys had music on in the living room, so they wouldn't be able to hear you. Perfect.
You got your small vibrator out, took off your pants, and got yourself off until you came. Your legs shook, but you kept quiet so the boys wouldn't know what you were doing. Usually, you did this when they were out, but with the raging storm outside, no one was going anywhere for a while.
You gave yourself one more orgasm as you still heard the music on. After you were done, you put your pants back on and ventured to the bathroom to clean up.
When you walked into the kitchen to get some water, you gave Harry a smile. He smirked back and chuckled.
"What's so funny?" You asked, taking a sip.
"Did ya have fun in there?" He asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Your face is all flushed and you have a pep in your step," Harry smirked.
You pushed him on his chest. "Leave me alone."
"Har, come on. Stop it," Niall said from the living room.
Harry chuckled. "'S'okay, honey. I have to go to the bathroom to do it. Since Niall doesn't want to watch me in the room."
You shook your head. "You're such a perv. And ew. Our shared bathroom?"
"It's mostly in the shower," he shrugged.
"Stop. I don't want to know."
"Me either!" Niall shouted.
Harry chuckled. "Alright. Sorry darling. Wanna come watch Heated Rivalry with us? We were just about to start it."
You chuckled, taking the bowl of popcorn to the living room. "Niall is going to watch Heated Rivalry?"
"Yeah. He likes hockey," Harry said, putting down the snacks.
You hummed. When Harry sat down, you mouthed, "He doesn't know does he?"
Harry shook his head. Oh boy.
After two episodes, Niall went "Wait!"
"What?"
"You didn't say there was romance in this," Niall said.
"Oh, there's definitely romance," you giggled.
"Do I have to cover your eyes?" he asked.
"No, but I might have to cover yours," you said.
"Why?"
"Just- keeping watching," Harry smirked.
Oh boy was Niall surprised.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Niall was the designated cook of the winter storm stay in. He made every dinner, but you and Harry helped with breakfast.
He was making chicken alfredo and cookies tonight. As Niall prepped all the food, Harry stood in the kitchen, looking over his shoulder.
"Can I help you?" Niall asked.
"Just observing," Harry shrugged.
"You're in my way and you're making me nervous," Niall replied, stirring the alfredo sauce.
"Nervous, huh?" Harry smirked. "Don't worry. 'M not gonna kiss ya."
Niall rolled his eyes. Harry started grabbing ingredients and messing around with them. He dropped a few noodles on the floor. Harry cringed as Niall put his hands on his hips. "Seriously?"
"Sorry," Harry mouthed.
"Please go anywhere else," Niall said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"But-."
"Go, or you won't get any cookies."
Harry shut up and nodded, walking out to the living room to see what you were doing.
"Hey, babe. What's up with you? Niall kicked me out of the kitchen," Harry said, plopping down next to you.
You pouted. "Oh no! I'm sorry, honey. You can come snuggle with me."
Harry laid down and watched a movie with you. After a few minutes, he asked, "Well, who's that?"
"I'm not sure."
"Why would they do that?"
"I don't know, honey."
Then he completely talked over a scene and you sighed. "Sorry," he said. You rewinded it and Harry kissed your cheek. "'M sorry."
You missed it again. You paused the movie and looked at it. "I'll just go to my room," he said.
"No. I want you here. You just have to be quiet. I don't know what's going on anymore than you do."
Harry nodded. You rewound it one more time and you settled in to watch the movie. Harry stayed quiet throughout the rest of it, and by the time it was over, dinner was ready.
Harry hopped up and anxiously grabbed a plate. He was the first in line, putting the chicken and fixings on his plate.
"Hungry much?" Niall asked.
"Starving. This looks great, by the way," he said, sucking a piece of alfredo off his thumb.
You all sat down together to eat. It was way too quiet for Harry after 5 minutes. "So, what's everyone been up to?"
You giggled, but Niall sighed. "I've been cooking your ass dinner and dessert."
"Hey, be nice," you said, putting a hand on Niall's arm. "He's just trying to make conversation."
"This is why (Y/N)'s my favorite," Harry said, with a full mouth.
"Yeah. She's my favorite too. I thought we knew that," Niall said.
You just giggled and shook your head. "This is really good, Niall. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said. "There's cookies for dessert."
You grabbed his chin. "Look at you, a little baker."
"There's nothing else to do," he chuckled.
"Well, thank you. We appreciate it," you said.
"Yes, thank you," Harry responded.
"Mmm," Niall said.
"Come on, boys. Play nice," you said.
"We need to get him out, petal. He's been annoying me all day," Niall said.
"We can't just throw him out in the snow," you replied.
"Why not? He wants to build a snowman right?"
"Hey! I'm right here. I can hear you," Harry pouted.
"Harry, you can't go outside after dinner because it's dark out. But, they're lifting the state of emergency tomorrow, so maybe you can then," you said.
He nodded. "Will you build a snowman and make snow angels with me?"
"Sure," you giggled.
"Yay!"
"Did you want to join, Niall?"
"He'll just ruin the fun," Harry stuck his tongue out at Niall.
Niall rolled his eyes. "Sure. I’ll come out. I can't wait to hit Harry in the head with a snowball."
"Ha ha. Very funny," Harry said in a mocking tone.
"I know. I'm hilarious," Niall responded.
You ate the rest of your dinner, and then dessert, and ended the night watching more Heated Rivalry. Niall was actually getting into it, but he would never admit that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Harry was up at 9am in his snow gear, waiting for you guys by the front door. "Come on! Come on! It's going to melt."
"Coffee," Niall said, wiping his eyes, heading for the coffee machine.
"Sweetie. It's like 20 degrees outside. It's not going to melt," you said.
"'M just really excited," Harry replied, clapping his hands together.
"I know," you said, putting on your boots. "I'm almost ready, babe."
Niall just hummed and waited for his coffee to brew.
"You almost ready, Ni?" you asked.
"I'll meet you out there," he yawned. "I need to wake up first." He rubbed his eyes and yawned.
"Ok, but don't be mad if we are finished with the snowman by the time you get out there," Harry said.
"I can assure you, I will not be mad," Niall replied.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Ok. (Y/N), you ready?"
"Yep," you said as you put your hat on your head. "Let's go."
You walked out of your apartment for the first time in days. Harry was giddy. He pressed the lobby button on the elevator with a smile on his face.
When you got out of the elevator, he greeted everyone he saw passing by. As soon as the front door opened, the cold air hit you like a ton of bricks.
"Holy shit. It's cold, Har."
"It's winter."
Your teeth started chattering and Harry tsk'd. "Let's build this snowman quickly then, hmm?"
You nodded. You both rolled big balls of snow to form the snowman's body. You were in charge of the middle and top while Harry took care of the bottom.
Once you rolled them to perfection, you stacked them on top of each other. Harry put in a carrot for a nose and two buttons for the eyes. He even brought out M&M's for the mouth.
You had a harder time finding sticks for the arms. Harry eventually found two small ones on the ground and put them in the snowman.
You accessorized him with a hat and scarf. You were pretty proud of your snowman, since you hadn't made one since middle school. You snapped a photo on your phone and then had Harry jump in one.
He looked so happy. "You like it?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Looks so cute."
"Good. I'm glad."
"Hey. Thanks for doing this with me," he said, picking up your hands and blowing on them to keep them warm.
"Of course. What else is there to do?"
"Mmmm. You could have made up an excuse," he said sadly.
"Do you think Niall's gonna come out?" you asked, looking up at your window.
"Who cares about him? He's Mr. Grumpy pants."
"I'm sorry, Har," you touched his arm.
He shrugged. "'S okay."
You looked up at the window again, begging with your eyes for Niall to come out here.
After a while, you decided to just be present with Harry and make snow angels.
You two ran around in the snow and waved to some neighbors. You were exhausted and decided to just sit for a bit.
About 5 minutes into your rest, Harry felt snow pelted at him. He turned around and saw Niall standing there with a smirk on his face. "So, you come out here just to hit me with snow?" Harry asked.
Niall's smile fell. "I was getting things done in the house."
"Whatever."
You looked up at Niall and pleaded with your eyes.
Niall sighed and leaned down. "Look, I'm sorry. Did you want to make a snowman?"
"Already done," Harry pointed to it.
"Snow angels?"
"You're looking at them," he said.
"Well, what else can we do?" Niall asked.
Harry shrugged. After about 30 seconds of silence, he looked up at Niall and threw a snowball in his face. It was soft snow, so it didn't hurt him. "HEY!"
"You deserve it," Harry shrugged.
"Hey, he's trying, Har," you knocked him with your shoulder.
"He should have tried an hour ago," Harry pouted and then got up to go inside.
"Har!" you yelled, but he didn't turn around.
You followed after him. Niall threw his hands up and followed after you guys.
Harry was angry, taking off his hat and gloves on the elevator. It was an awkward silence the whole way up.
When he got up to the apartment, and unlocked the door, he took his shoes off and was about to say something when he saw the dining table.
Breakfast was out, warmed by sternos. Hot chocolate with all of Harry's favorite fix-ins was brewing in the hot cocoa maker. "I-."
"Yeah. Asshole," Niall said behind him, taking off his hat. "I made this all for you, so don't think I don't care!"
"Hey! Don't call him an asshole!" you spoke up.
You turned to Harry. "You owe Niall an apology."
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Niall, now you."
"Sorry," he said back.
"Now, let's go eat some breakfast and warm up with some hot cocoa. And then maybe later, you can go out again and build a fort or something with Niall. Does that sound good?" you asked Harry.
Harry looked to Niall. "That's gonna be the best damn fort the world has ever seen," Niall said.
Harry couldn't help the smile pulling on his face. You chuckled and gave them both a kiss on the cheek. "Now, let's go eat."
You grabbed a plate and dug in. Niall followed behind you. Harry was the last to grab his plate. There was every one of his favorites there. When he forked his food out with a smile, Niall asked, "What are you smiling about?"
"You love me," he giggled.
"Oh God," Niall rolled his eyes.
"Look. All of my favorite foods and hot chocolate toppings. You know me and you love me," he said.
"Please just sit down," Niall begged.
Harry sat down and chewed his food with a big smile. "Stop!"
"Not until you admit you love me!"
"Of course I love you. You're like my brother. Ok? Now, just eat your food and no more talk of love until Valentine's Day," Niall said.
Harry leaned over and planted a big kiss on Niall's cheek. "Jesus!" Niall said, wiping the kiss off. "I said I love you not that I'm in love with you!"
"Not yet," Harry winked. "But, some day soon."
You giggled as Niall shook his head.
After breakfast digested, the boys went out to play in the snow. You did the dishes and took a shower. When they came back in, they weren't mad at each other anymore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two more days in the house and it was spotless. All of the laundry was done, the dishes were cleaned and put away, Heated Rivalry was finished, and the cabinets were cleaned out.
You had all gone to bed early the night before from all the cleaning, so it didn't surprise you when you were all up late the next morning. You and Harry bumped into each other in the hallway, both trying to get to the bathroom. "Go ahead, love," Harry said.
"Thanks." You entered the bathroom and shut the door as Harry waited in the hallway.
You did your business and wiped, only to be surprised by you getting your period. "No! It's early. Fuck," you whined.
You looked under the cabinet and grabbed a tampon, noticing there was only one left. "Shit."
When you finished you opened the door and cursed to yourself. "I'll be right back!"
"Where ya goin'?" Harry asked.
Niall was up now, rubbing his eyes. "What's goin' on?"
"(Y/N)'s leaving apparently," Harry said from the bathroom.
You started to get changed, but both Harry and Niall came into your room after a minute. "Whoa! Knock."
"Relax," Harry said. "You're not naked."
You rolled your eyes, as you straightened out your shirt.
"Babe, where ya goin'? Thought we were trapped in here," Harry said.
You sighed. "I- got my period early and there's only one tampon left."
"Gotcha," Niall said.
"I'll go," Harry replied.
"No. It's ok," you shook your head.”I'll just go to the gas station down the street."
"With that creepy guy behind the counter? Yeah no. I'll go," Harry said.
He went into the bathroom and snapped a photo of the box of tampons. "One box or two?" he asked when he came back.
"Har, really. I can go."
"One or two?"
"One's fine," you sighed. "Thank you."
He nodded and then put his snow gear on. "Niall, you're on standby in case I get stranded."
"What the fuck am I supposed to do? Drag you home in the snow?" he asked.
"Yes," Harry replied, tying the laces on his boots. "Do we need anything else while I'm out?"
"Get milk," Niall said. Harry nodded.
"Thank you!" you shouted from your bedroom.
"You're welcome," Harry shouted back as he walked out the door.
When you walked out of your room to the kitchen, you saw Niall brewing you green tea. "How's your stomach? I'm making you tea."
You smiled and kissed his cheek. "I'm ok for now, but I'll still take the tea. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Niall said, kissing your forehead. "Do ya need anything else?"
You shook your head. "Just for you to be nice to Harry."
Niall sighed, stirring his coffee. "You know I love him."
"Then why are you so mean to him?"
"Cause he's a pain in my arse," Niall said.
"He's just bored."
Niall shrugged. "Brother's argue. They riff on each other. We're fine now."
You shoved into his side. "He's still sensitive after his breakup. Just go easy on him."
Niall nodded. "Alright, I will for you."
"Thank you."
Niall hummed and gave you a sidehug. "Want some eggs?"
"Sure," you nodded, sipping your tea.
"Ok. Go sit. I'll bring them to you."
"Ok." You sat on the couch and waited for the eggs to be cooked.
As you and Niall were eating breakfast, Harry came back. "Hey! I'm back!"
"Hey. In here," you said.
Harry came into the living sans his snow gear and handed you the bag. "Here you go, love."
"Thank you very much. I hope it wasn't too bad out there."
Harry shrugged. "I checked on Norman (the snow man) and he said hi."
"Hi, Norman. I hope he's not too cold."
"He's bundled in his scarf," Harry said.
"Perfect," you smiled.
Harry got changed back into his pajamas and put the milk in the fridge. You looked in the bag, which had your tampons, pads, your favorite candy, and a book of jokes in it.
When Harry walked back out to the living room, you asked, "Why the book of jokes?"
"So, I can entertain myself while we're stuck here."
"Let's hear some," Niall said.
Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at you. "Alright." He grabbed the book and scanned a few pages. "How did the hipster burn his tongue?"
You and Niall shrugged. "I don't know. How?"
"He drank his coffee before it was cool!" Harry responded.
You all chuckled and Harry skimmed through the book more.
"Hey, there's scrambled eggs in there if you're hungry," Niall said to Harry.
"Thanks," he smiled, heading into the kitchen.
You smiled at Niall and mouthed a "thank you" for the joke. He winked at you.
Harry came back to sit with you and eat. "How's yer tummy, (Y/N)?"
"I feel good right now. Thanks."
"M'kay. If ya want me to rub it later, let me know," Harry said.
"I will. Thanks, H." He nodded. "And thanks for getting all that stuff."
"Ya know I'd weather any storm for you," he said, chewing.
"Same with you guys," you smiled back.
"This was a lot of fun," Harry said. "We had some down moments, but I enjoyed hanging out with you guys."
"Me too."
"Yeah. Me too," Niall said.
"So, sleepover tonight? Movie marathon? Nail painting? Face masks? Truth or dare?" Harry asked.
"Sure," you giggled.
"Ni?" Harry asked.
He nodded. "If there's pizza, I'm in."
"Pizza's a given," you said.
"Perfect," he replied.
"This is going to be so much fun!" Harry squealed.
Just thought of a little fic from this pic. Enjoy!
wc: 1600
warnings: Sickenly cute fluff, theres a shower scene, but not really smut
It was two days before Harry’s 30-date residency at Madison Square Garden. He had rented a really nice suite for the two of you during your almost two-month stay.
As your car pulled into New York, you squeezed Harry’s hand with excitement. He took his focus from the window to you. “Ya alright, love?”
You nodded. “30 sold-out shows. I’m so freaking proud of you.”
“Mmm. Thank ya my love,” Harry pecked your lips. “It will be nice to just be permanent for the next month and a half.”
“Mmhmm.” You interlocked your fingers together. “We should celebrate. Get a lot of food and pig out before all of your time is taken up.”
“That sounds nice. Where do ya want to eat?” He asked.
“You pick. They’re your shows.”
He hummed. Harry was quiet for a bit as he looked out the window, the cars passing by, and the buildings whipping by in a flash. “Hey. What about there?”
You leaned over and chuckled. “7-11? Har. We’re in New York. The possibilities are endless.”
“I’ve never been there,” he mumbled.
“Really?” You sat back up. “It’s just a convenience store.”
“They must be good if they’re all over, right?"
“I mean, I guess,” you scratched your head. “The slurpees are good. Got them a lot as a kid.”
“Slurpees. Let’s get one!” He said.
“You’re serious?!?” You looked at him shocked.
“Yes. Excuse me, sir,” he said to the driver. “Could you pull over please?”
The driver pulled over, Harry paid him, and he helped you out of the car. He took your hand as you walked a block to 7-11.
You giggled the whole walk down. International super star Harry Styles wanting to eat at 7-11. You just couldn’t believe it.
Harry held the door open for you and then he walked in, greeting the cashier.
“Alright,” he clapped. ‘Give me the lay of the land.”
“Ok,” you chuckled. “Well, these are just the snack aisles. The frozen and refrigerated section is back there, which is mostly drinks, ice, eggs, milk, ice cream. Those sorts of things.”
Harry nodded attentively. “Then, over here you’ve got your coffee/tea/hot chocolate section. Next to that is the fountain drink dispensers, the slurpee machine,” you said.
“Up here is like soft pretzels, hot dogs, pizza, but I don’t know if I’d trust that, gum, cigarettes, lottery tickets, etc. etc.”
Harry looked around, amazed at all of it. He explored the store as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. By the time you met up, Harry had three snack bags in his hands, a cherry slurpee, a pint of ice cream, and a Big Gulp filled with Coke Zero.
“Wow. Find everything alright?” you chuckled.
“Think so,” he said, looking at his pile. “Unless ya want anything.” Harry took a sip of his slurpee.
“I’ve got my coffee. I’m good,” you said.
“Perfect. Let’s go pay.” He walked up the counter, putting everything on it. “And two pretzels please.” He turned to you. “Know later you’re gonna regret not getting one.”
You smirked and shook your head. He knew you too well. Harry paid, and he took all of your items, sans the coffee and slurpee, in the bags that were handed to him.
When you got out of the store, you found the car and got back in. Harry slurped his slurpee, humming in delight. It was enjoyable in the late August heat.
“Ok. Where did you really want to eat now?” You asked.
“What do ya mean? I just got all of this food.”
“Har, that’s not dinner,” you said.
“Come on, babe. Can we just pretend and live like civilians for the day? Like I spent the last of my paycheck on this delicious slurpee and way too big of a Coke.”
You giggled. “Is that what you want?”
He nodded. “I’m exhausted. I just want to go back to the hotel room, take a shower, lay down and watch a movie and eat our snacks together. Some peace and quiet with you before the madness starts. Please.”
You nodded. “That sounds really nice actually.”
“Good,” he said. “Take us to our hotel please” Harry told the driver.
As the man drove through the busy New York streets, Harry sipped his slurpee.
“Ahh!” He said, reaching up, clutching his head.
“You ok, baby?” You put a hand on his thigh.
“Brain freeze,” he shared. “I always do that.”
“Slow down. It’s not a race.” You squeezed his leg.
He nodded as you massaged his head. “Thanks, love.”
“I got you.”
“I know."
You finally arrived at the hotel. You had already checked in online, so you just had to pick up your key cards, and the bell hop would send your bags up.
You both got on the elevator, food bags still in Harry’s hands. He hummed. “I can’t wait to lie down.”
You giggled. “Me too.”
When you got off the elevator, you opened the door. Harry made sure to put the food/drinks that needed to go in the fridge/freezer away, and then he kept the rest of the stuff in the bag.
Once he got settled, Harry walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you. “Wanna take a shower?”
You raised an eyebrow. “A shower or a shower?”
Harry chuckled. “Just a shower. I smell like New York.”
You nodded. “Let me finish my coffee and I’ll be right in.”
“M’kay,” he said. Harry went to turn the shower on, got the towels ready, and stripped down as he stepped in.
You finished your coffee after five minutes and then joined Harry in the shower. He was washing the conditioner out of his hair when you stepped in. “Hey, baby,” he said.
“Hello,” you smiled, grabbing the shampoo bottle.
“Wait, let me do that,” he said, taking the bottle from you. After he finished his hair, Harry lathered the shampoo in your hair, massaging your scalp. You hummed. This was something you loved doing together.
You both got cleaned and then made out for a little bit. “Love you, baby.”
“Love you too, H.”
“Hope we get more days like this soon,” he said, kissing your wet forehead.
“We will,” you held onto his chest. “We’ll make sure of it.”
He hummed. There was some groping and a few light touches, but you two were too exhausted to do anything beyond that.
When you got out of the shower, Harry wrapped you in a towel and then him. You both dug through your suitcases, that were now delivered, and got out your pajamas and essentials.
After getting changed, you did your nighttime routines in the bathrooms. You dried your hair, brushed your teeth, put on your night cream, and put on under eye patches.
“Hey, ya got extra of them?” he asked.
You giggled, taking more out of the case. You turned to him and helped him put on the patches gently. “They’re a little cold.”
He hummed. “You know, you don’t have bags, right?”
“M’ eyes feel a little puffy,” he shrugged.
“Ok, well, if you ever need them, they’re in here, alright?” You showed him your makeup bag. Harry nodded. When you were both finished, you walked over to the bed, and plopped down.
Harry grabbed the bag of snacks and his Big Gulp and settled into bed. “What do ya want to watch?” he asked, turning on the TV.
“We can finish our Gossip Girl marathon,” you said.
“Perfect,” he said, flicking to the episodes.
He sat on the edge of the bed, with his under eyes patches, sipping his Big Gulp. You giggled. “What?” he asked.
“You look so cute,” you said, putting your phone up to his face. “Picture.”
Harry posed with the straw in his mouth. He swallowed his sip. “Can I post that?” you asked.
“Course,” he said, laying back. “Now, come join me on the bed and eat a bunch of snacks and your pretzel and watch mindless TV.”
You crawled onto the bed and curled into Harry’s arms. He kissed you on the forehead and started the show where you left off.
You pulled up Instagram, posting the photo, along with your haul, and a few pics of NYC. “Taking a Big Gulp before 30 sold-out shows at Madison Square Garden,” you captioned the post.
You hit post and settled into the mattress more. Harry picked up his phone, since it lit up when you tagged him. He chuckled. “Cute caption,” he said.
“Thank you. I thought it was clever.”
“It is,” he mumbled, liking the photo, typing something, and then throwing his phone on the bed.
You looked at your notifications. “I still feel the brain freeze from that slurpee,” he commented.
You giggled and kissed his forehead. “You’re so silly.”
“Thank you,” he pulled you into his arms more.
“What time do you have to be at rehearsals tomorrow?” you asked, interlocking your fingers.
“Not til 12, so we’ve got some time,” he said.
“Good. We’ll have a big breakfast,” you said.
“Two breakfasts,” he leaned down and kissed your neck. “At least, I will.”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Insatiable you are.”
“For you. Always,” he left a raspberry on your neck. “I love you, baby. Thanks for this relaxing day.”
“I love you too. You’re welcome. Let’s plan more like it,” you said.
“Yes, please.”
You both fell asleep to Blair Waldorf talking on screen. Harry had a big schedule coming up, but you wouldn’t have it any other way because you were with him.
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