Summary: Peter hasn’t been showing up for y/n, one day when the bell rings she tries to tell him but he’s in a rush. Then he comes to her house later on in the night and they argue. A few things were said but when peter goes “i’m done”; Y/n starts to panic…
The bell rang, sharp and loud, but you barely moved.
Students flooded out of the classroom in noisy waves, laughter and chatter filling the hallway—but you stayed by your desk, watching Peter.
He was already halfway to the door.
Of course he was.
“Peter,” you called, grabbing your bag and hurrying after him.
He turned, a little startled, like he hadn’t expected you to follow. “Oh—hey. Sorry, I was just—”
“In a rush?” you finished flatly.
He winced slightly. “Yeah. I mean—kind of.”
You stared at him for a moment, searching his face. He looked tired. Distracted. Like his mind was somewhere else entirely.
Not with you.
“Can we hang out today?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “After school. Just for a bit.”
There was a pause.
A small one.
But it was enough.
“I can’t,” he said.
Your stomach sank. “You didn’t even think about it.”
“I did—”
“No, you didn’t,” you cut in, shaking your head. “You just said no. Like always.”
“It’s not like that,” he said quickly. “I just have stuff I need to do.”
“There’s always ‘stuff,’ Peter,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “Every day. Every time I ask.”
“I’m trying—”
“You’re not trying!” you snapped. A few people nearby turned their heads. You didn’t care. “You disappear in the middle of conversations, you bail on plans, you don’t even walk me home anymore—”
“I said I’m sorry!”
“And I said I just want to spend time with you!” Your voice cracked slightly. “Why is that so hard?”
He looked torn. Guilty. But still—
“I don’t have a choice,” he said.
That did it.
You let out a hollow laugh. “You always have a choice. You just don’t pick me.”
His expression shifted—hurt flashing across his face—but you were already stepping back.
“Forget it,” you muttered. “I’m done asking.”
MJ slid up beside you like she’d been waiting for this exact moment.
“You coming?” she asked casually, though her eyes flicked toward Peter with quiet understanding.
“Yeah,” you said, your voice tight. “Let’s go.”
You didn’t look back.
You didn’t walk home with him.
Again.
The walk felt longer without him. Colder. Even with MJ beside you, talking about something random to distract you, your mind kept drifting.
To him.
To how things used to be.
To how easy it had been.
By the time you got home, the weight in your chest felt unbearable.
You barely made it to your room before it hit you.
You dropped your bag, kicked your shoes off, and collapsed onto your bed.
And then you cried.
It wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t controlled. It was the kind of crying that made your chest ache, your breathing uneven, your thoughts spiraling.
“I just wanted one day…” you whispered into your pillow.
One day where he chose you first.
It was late when you heard it.
A soft tap against your window.
You froze.
Another tap.
You already knew.
You sat up slowly, wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie before walking over and pulling the window open.
Peter climbed in carefully, like always, landing softly on your floor.
“Hey,” he said.
You didn’t answer.
You just turned and walked back toward your bed, arms crossed tightly over your chest.
He lingered by the window for a second before stepping closer.
“I came as soon as I could,” he added.
Still nothing.
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… uh… how was your day?”
You turned sharply. “Are you serious right now?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You’re just going to act like nothing happened?”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are!” you snapped. “You do this every time, Peter! You disappear, and then you show up like everything’s fine!”
“I thought we could just talk—”
“We are talking!”
“Not like this!” he shot back, his voice rising.
The tension snapped.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said bitterly, “am I being too much? Is this inconvenient for you too?”
“That’s not what I said!”
“It’s what you do!” you fired back. “You make me feel like I don’t matter!”
His jaw tightened. “You think I want to be gone all the time?”
“I think you don’t care enough to stay!”
“That’s not fair!”
“Neither is being ignored by your boyfriend!”
Silence hit for half a second—
Then everything got worse.
“I’m doing the best I can!” he said, frustration spilling over.
“Well, it’s not good enough!” you shot back instantly.
The words hung there.
Heavy.
Sharp.
His expression changed—hurt flashing into something colder.
You immediately regretted it.
“I didn’t mean—”
He turned away, running a hand through his hair. “I need water.”
He walked out into the kitchen before you could stop him.
Your chest felt tight, guilt creeping in—but so did anger.
You followed him.
He stood at the counter, gripping the edge of it, a glass sitting untouched in front of him.
“I didn’t mean that,” you said, quieter now.
He let out a short, frustrated breath.
“I’m done.”
Everything stopped.
“…what?” you whispered.
But he had already turned, already heading back toward your room.
Your heart dropped straight into your stomach.
He’s breaking up with you.
The thought hit instantly. Completely.
You rushed after him.
“Peter—wait—what do you mean?” your voice cracked as you followed him inside.
He turned, confused. “What?”
“You said you’re done—” your breathing started to speed up, panic rising fast “—you can’t just say that, you don’t just—”
“I meant the argument—”
“I know I messed up, okay?!” you blurted out, tears already spilling again. “I didn’t mean what I said, I was just upset and I miss you and I feel like you’re slipping away from me and I—”
“Hey—hey, slow down—”
But you couldn’t.
Your breaths came too fast, uneven, shallow.
“I can’t do this if you’re going to leave,” you said, your voice breaking completely now. “I love you, Peter. I love you so much and it feels like you don’t want me anymore and I don’t know what I did wrong but I’ll fix it, I swear, just don’t—”
He froze.
Then immediately stepped forward, grabbing your arms gently.
“Hey. No. No, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly. “I’m not breaking up with you.”
You shook your head, tears blurring everything. “You said you were done—”
“With the argument,” he said firmly. Softer. “Just the argument. Not you. Never you.”
You let out a sob, breathing still heavy.
He guided you to sit on the edge of your bed, kneeling in front of you.
“Look at me,” he said gently.
It took a second, but you did.
“I’m not leaving you,” he said again. “Okay? I got frustrated. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing.
“Then why does it feel like you already have?” you whispered.
That hit him.
Hard.
His expression softened, guilt washing over him.
“I know I’ve been… gone,” he admitted quietly. “A lot. And I know it’s hurting you.”
“It is,” you said, your voice small now. “I feel like I’m not important anymore.”
“You are,” he said immediately. “You’re— you’re the most important person in my life.”
“Then why won’t you just be here, Petey?” you asked.
He hesitated.
That same hesitation.
That same wall.
“You don’t trust me,” you said softly.
“I do,” he said quickly. “I just—there are things I can’t explain.”
“That’s not fair,” you whispered. “You expect me to just accept that?”
“I’m trying to protect you,” he said, barely above a whisper.
“From what?” you asked.
He didn’t answer.
Your chest tightened again, but this time slower. Sadder.
“I don’t need you to protect me from your life,” you said. “I just need to be part of it.”
Silence filled the room.
Then—
“I’m scared,” he admitted.
You blinked. “Of what?”
“Losing you,” he said.
Your expression softened.
“Then don’t push me away,” you whispered.
He nodded slightly, tightening his grip on your hands.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’ll try harder. I mean it.”
You studied him for a moment, searching his face.
“Okay,” you said finally. “But you have to actually show up, Peter.”
“I will,” he said.
There was a pause.
Then, quieter—
“I love you.”
Your throat tightened again, but this time the feeling was different.
“I love you too.”
He pulled you into a hug, careful at first—like he wasn’t sure if you’d pull away.
You didn’t.
You held onto him tightly, like if you let go, everything would fall apart again.
And maybe things still weren’t perfect.
Maybe there were still secrets, still distance, still things unsaid.
summary: I really couldn't explain it better than the title does. (suggestive language, jealous!Mike, jealous!reader, angst to fluff, misunderstandings, mutual pining.)
When Lucas invited the gang to one of his basketball players' parties, he had done that knowing full well that none of you were going to enjoy it. He dreaded it himself, which was why he wanted all of you there. Dustin got sick on the same day, Will was out of town, and El had plans with Joyce and Hopper, so they all had pretty good excuses to leave you, Mike, and Max to fend for yourselves.
The moment you entered the party, Lucas and Max were fighting about one stupid thing or the other, which left you and Mike pretty much alone. You had been trying to avoid him for the last few days, so this was not ideal.
Speaking of less-than-ideal things, the basketball players were still not over the whole Hellfire situation, so they made their glares known every time they saw you both. Mike was definitely getting more glares, so you pulled him away to the kitchen, which was not better.
A giant keg of beer sat in the middle, where a dinner table was supposed to be. Soon enough, both you and Mike had two red plastic cups of your own, courtesy of random people passing the beer around.
"Gross," Mike said, smelling the cup. "Who even wants to voluntarily drink these?"
You raised an eyebrow and chugged the whole thing.
"Y/N!"
"Just because you've a weak stomach doesn't mean I can't drink," you shrugged, making direct eye contact with him while you took a sip out of his cup too.
He stared for a few seconds, mouth open wide in shock. Then he braved up and took the cup back. Clearly again of his own will, he proceeded to drink it.
It was hard not to laugh. Mike and you had been best friends for as long as you could remember, and this silent competition was always part of the contract. Whether that be on who could play monkey bars the longest before throwing up, who bikes faster, or who could contribute the most to getting rid of Vecna — it was always a fight between you two.
You weren't dumb. You knew that most times you did impulsive things, its got more to do with impressing Mike than actually wanting to do it. You liked seeing him wonderstruck. It kept you delusional that one day Mike would be awed enough to fall for you.
At least, that was the plan until Eleven came along. Until you had a heartbreak you never saw coming.
"It's not that bad," Mike said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"You don't have to drink if you can't handle it, Wheeler."
"I can handle it!" He said defensively. "In fact, let's go get more."
You rolled your eyes, but followed him anyway.
So that was how the infamous night began, with cheap beer and a whole rich asshole’s house to yourselves. There was no one to tease Mike about Eleven, no El with her perfect looks and superpowers, and no monsters that needed fighting. It was just the two of you, just like it had been long before demogorgans and vampire bats attacked the town.
For a while, it was easy to pretend like you weren’t going to slowly cut off his friendship. You never wanted to, and it wasn’t like you could. Both of you had the same friends, so something like this party was bound to happen sooner or later. Ignoring him had other complexities too, like the hurt that came with it.
You were happy to just let the part of you that loved him die if that meant you could be friends with him, but it was impossible to not feel hurt every time someone made a comment about El. They were bound to start dating anyday now, and you didn’t want to be completely broken when they did.
Only Max knew about your feelings towards Mike, and she told you countless times to just tell him already, but you couldn’t. You knew he’d never feel the same way, especially not with El in the picture. So you toughened up like you always do and acted extra careless around him, which didn’t do much to change how you felt.
Except now you were four cups of beer deep and couldn’t control a thing that came out of your mouth. You were scared you’d say something you’d regret, so you were almost happy when someone pulled you both into a party game.
---
“Mike Wheeler, come sit! Is that your girlfriend?” Lottie asked, with a smile that wasn't friendly.
“No.” Both of you said at the same time. Heat rose up his neck.
Mike didn't want to be there, but he sat down beside you. The beer was clouding his brain, but he remembered something about Lottie and you being archenemies ever since middle school.
“We should go,” he whispered when the focus was finally taken from them. “You'll do something dumb if Lottie's involved.”
“You smell like shit,” you replied, giggling. Mike was concerned, but he wasn’t much sober than you, so he started to laugh too.
“Y/N!” Lottie said sharply. “Your turn. Dare or Shots?”
You blinked. “We’re playing Truth or Dare?”
“No, Dare or Shots. If you don’t take dare, you take shots. Pretty straightforward, wouldn’t you say?” she sniggered. “Unless you don’t want to play…?”
“No, no, I do!” You said defiantly. This was unsurprising to Mike, and so was the next part. “I choose… uhm, dare.”
Mike didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned. In your state, you weren't going to do well with a shot, but he also didn’t want to see what Lottie’s idea of a dare was. He was getting mentally prepared to just drag you away if it was something gross.
“It’s your first turn, so I’ll give you an easy one.” Lottie was still smiling. “Kiss a guy here, since Mike’s not your boyfriend.”
“No,” Mike spoke suddenly. His heart almost fell outside of his chest for reasons he couldn't comprehend. “Y/N’s not doing that.”
“I don’t think you own her, Wheeler,” she snapped. “Let the girl speak.”
Mike bit down his tongue. Knowing you, he knew you’d never back down from a challenge, even if that made you puke after. It was a clear power play, one that was indirectly calling you a coward. Mike didn't want you to kiss any of the guys there, not while they were this drunk or completely sober.
He turned to you with concern, but you were already looking at him.
"You don't have to—"
“Kiss me,” you said, with an expression that said you were hardly thinking.
Mike’s face drained of color. He was suddenly aware of how close your face was to his, how your mouth was slightly open, how your eyes were searching his. His heart did that similar somersault it always did when he had the smallest of touch exchanged with you.
“Let’s just go,” he said hurriedly, trying to get up. You pulled him back down.
“You’re a guy. She said kiss any guy. I’d rather kiss you than these assholes. I don’t know where their mouths have been!”
It was then Mike Wheeler had the epiphany of his life. In those few seconds, he thought of every time he felt butterflies over the years. Every knee brush, every time his fingers touched yours, every time you stared at him a little too much, it all had made him nervous and speechless. He assumed it was because you were the only "girl" friend he had, but then Max and El came to the group, and it still only happened with you.
It was like he was under your spell, and he could only recognize it in the worst moment.
“Mike, please just kiss me,” you said, coming closer. Your face was inches away from his.
His heart started to pick up its speed. What's the worst a kiss can do? When he didn’t say any more objections, you pressed your lips against his.
Mike Wheeler’s brain short-circuited.
He grabbed your face and kissed you deeper, and you were only happy enough to oblige. You let your fingers weave into his curly hair, tugging a few strands as his lips parted yours. Mike was feeling a whole lot of things at once, but he couldn’t stop what he was doing. A room full of people was watching, and Mike was kissing you like you’d vanish if he didn’t. Like he’d die if he didn’t.
When he finally pulled away, you had the strangest expression on your face.
“Y/N!” He called as you excused yourself to the washroom. He jumped up and followed without a second thought.
---
The washroom was empty.
Fuck, this was a bad idea. You thought, trying to make your head stop spinning. You were drunk, and Lottie was pressing your buttons. Sure, you were grateful you didn't kiss a random frat boy wannabe instead, but Mike Wheeler? Your best friend and the guy you were supposed to get over?
Did I really beg him to kiss me? You were beyond embarrassed. You hoped Mike would forget it by tomorrow.
"Y/N!" You also hoped the guy who just closed the door behind him was not Mike Wheeler. You calculated the odds on whether it could just be a hallucination.
"Y/N," he said again, stepping forward. "Are you okay?"
The remnants of your lipstick were still etched on his mouth. Seeing that made you stop thinking for the second time that night.
You grabbed him by his collar and pulled him in. Mike didn't resist. He leaned down and kissed you in sloppy, hungry movements. He grabbed your waist and pushed you roughly against the bathroom door, and you were gripping his shoulders when he started kissing your neck. You let out a moan when his hand started to go up inside your t-shirt, and Mike Wheeler wanted to save that memory forever.
---
He would do anything to hear that sound again, but you gently pushed him back. He whined in complaint, but pulled apart obediently. Your foreheads were almost touching, but you were clearly looking at each other now.
"This can't happen." You said firmly, though you were trying hard not to look at his lips. Mike frowned.
"Why?"
"Mike, you've El."
He blinked. "I don't have El. She's not my girlfriend."
"Yet." You pushed him away. "It's obvious you both like each other. I don't want to be a part of that mess."
"El likes me?" Mike asked, momentarily distracted. "Why would she ever like me?"
You looked like he slapped you in the face. "So you admit you like her?"
"No!"
"So you don't?"
"Well, no but—" Mike shook his head, hoping that would clear his thoughts. It didn't. "I'm too dizzy to speak cohor- chorently? Cohently? Y/N. What are you talking about?"
"We shouldn't have kissed!" You said, clearly enunciating every word as if he was deaf. "I can't do that to El, or you. I'm not fucking your relationship!"
"I don't have a relationship!" Mike said desperately. Then something clicked. "You regret this, don't you?"
You avoided his eyes. "I don't know. I forgot about El."
"Y/N," Mike tried again, this time rephrasing his words. "Do you want me to date El?"
You took a moment to reply. When you finally met his eyes, you had a forced smile.
"I think you two would be perfect together," you said, almost quietly.
Mike scoffed. He was angry at you, though he couldn't figure out why. So he said some excuse about getting back home and stormed out, slamming the washroom door behind him.
When you were sure he was gone, you started to cry.
---
It was easier to ignore Mike once you had a whole series of events to be embarrassed about. You were actively not coming to lunch with the gang anymore, so everyone figured out there was some huge fight between you two.
All you talked with was Max, but even with her, you were not telling the whole story. It frustrated her, but she let you be.
Mike, on the other hand, was experiencing too many feelings at once. He was almost glad you were avoiding him, because whenever he saw you in the corner of his eye, he was pulled back into the night at the party. One glimpse of you and he had such clear visions of holding you in his hands that heat rose up his neck every time.
He was completely infatuated with you, so every "what if" with Eleven was thrown right out the window. He gave you space, because god knows what stupid thing he'll do or say when he was in your presence again, and then he put the whole Eleven thing to rest. He told her that he liked someone else, and Eleven had a smile on her face that said she knew that already.
Once that part was done, he had a whole day to figure out if he should come clean with his feelings and risk your friendship. But as it turned out, he didn't have to make that choice.
---
You sat next to Mike because it was the only empty seat in the table. All your friends stopped eating midway and stared at you. Especially Mike, who almost choked on his apple.
"Hi guys," you said, like you haven't been absent from lunch for a week straight.
"I take it you guys made up?" Lucas asked cautiously, looking between Mike and you.
"Made up?" you frowned. "I wasn't fighting with anyone."
"Right."
"No, I was busy." Anyone could see that the answer was well-rehearsed. "The club activities and all get to worsen around the end of year, you know."
"No, I don't," Dustin said plainly. "Especially since, I don't know, we're in the same clubs?"
"I think both of you have very different club activities, Henderson," Max said, looking at her plate. She was trying not to smile. You glowered at her, suddenly regretting having said anything to her.
Mike came out of his trance. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She shook her head. "Forget I said anything."
"Is this about Justin?" Lucas said, stuffing his face with the vegetables.
You yelled "Max!" at the same time Mike yelled "What?!"
"I didn't tell him anything, I swear!" Max said hurriedly, making eyes at Lucas to convince you.
"She didn't," he said, shrugging. "Justin still plays basketball, if you forgot."
Suddenly the whole table had more doubts than they'd ever have in an actual class.
"You're dating him again?" Dustin asked first.
"Justin, your ex, Justin?" Mike said slowly. He looked like someone dropped a worm onto his food.
"No, Justin Hayward from The Moody Blues." Dustin rolled his eyes. "Of course her ex! Keep up."
"Why did he even tell you anything?" you asked Lucas in disbelief.
"He told everyone in the locker room he had to cancel practise last night—"
"You guys went on a date?" Mike asked, mouth open. "What the fuck?"
"Yeah, you never told us—"
You zoned out halfway through the overlapping chatter. You only really cared what one person in that table had to say, but you couldn't bring yourself to even look at him.
---
Mike had been feeling strangely euphoric from the moment you sat down, but now his mood had taken a complete 180. He already hated Justin because of how he treated you in the past, but now he was positively seeing red.
You had a boyfriend. Through all his Eleven drama, he forgot to consider that you might have someone in the picture too.
"Where did you guys go?" Mike asked, not significantly loud, but cold enough that everyone stopped their chattering. El had an uh-oh look on her face. Everyone else was just curious about his sudden change in demeanor.
"What?" You asked, as if you haven't heard him right the first time.
"Where did you go?"
"Mike, we're not dating—"
"No?" Mike scoffed. "So you didn't go on a date with your ex?"
You seemed to shrink under his gaze. "Yes, but—"
"Then where did you go?"
"Gus's. For pizza."
"Was it good?" Mike was starting to sound hostile.
"Mike," El said warningly.
"I'm just asking if the food's good, is that so wrong?"
"You had Gus's all your life," you snapped. "Why are you even mad about Justin?"
Mike sat up straighter, the food long forgotten in front of him. "I think everyone's mad about Justin. He was an asshole to you the first time, so why did you even go back to him?"
"It was just one date!"
"Yet!" He said, getting deja vu of something similar you said to him during the party.
"You have no right to judge me on the people I date," you said, throwing your hands up in frustration.
"You've skipped lunch on us the past week for what— so you could make out with Justin instead?" Mike could feel the pettiness of his own words. Dustin's mouth fell open. You looked like he practically kicked you.
"Dude!" Lucas said sharply. Max looked like she had more colorful words, but you shook your head to let her know it was okay.
"I don't have to hear this." You stood up, towering over Mike. "I don't understand your problem, Wheeler. I don't come asking you how things are going with El or scream at you for dating her."
"That's different. For one, I'm not dating her."
"You're a coward." Your words were laced with venom. "Have you considered maybe that's your problem? You don't have the spine to let your feelings be known so you take it out on the rest of us for having a life!"
"For some of us, life doesn't mean just kissing a new guy every week!"
Dustin almost spit out his orange juice. Lucas's eyes went wide. Nearly everyone gasped or looked at each other when they connected the dots— the real reason why you've both been acting so strange the whole week. Max wanted to get up and come near you, but all of them were scared to move. They were braced for the impact.
Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, something you only realized when Mike suddenly looked full of guilt.
"Y/N—"
You poured his juice on his face, then left.
---
"We are starting to become the most normal couple here," Max said to Lucas, who nodded in agreement.
A juice-covered Mike sputtered out something along the lines of how he's not dating you.
"You're both idiots," Will said, his hands knotted. "You more. How could you let her leave like that? Go after her!"
"And do what?" Mike snapped back. "Apologize? You think she'll even listen?"
"I don't know, maybe! Or tell her how you actually feel—"
"I can't," Mike said, drying himself off with tissues. He suddenly sounded very depressed. She has a boyfriend. He didn't need to say that part aloud.
---
Mike had the whole day to figure out how much he fucked up. He didn't see you in any of the classes, and with each passing minute, he wanted to shoot himself for being so dumb.
Why the fuck did I have to say that? He was lost in thought in History class, though there was a clear answer right in his head. From the moment Justin was brought into the conversation, he had been jealous. His memories of kissing you were replaced with a poison ivy of envy. The thought of anyone kissing you the same way he did, feeling the same things, holding you the same way— it was enough to make him see red. You weren't his; he knew that. But that thought didn't improve his mood either.
And as if he didn't receive enough blows today, he saw Justin outside the doorway of the class. He was laughing with his friends, oblivious to wherever you were and how you were doing.
He's got nothing to do with it. I'm at fault. Mike couldn't focus on what the teacher was saying. Especially since a girl had just put her hands around Justin, a girl who was not you. Blonde, tall, a signature cherry purse — it was Lottie.
It was like the universe gave him another chance, and this time, he was not going to be dumb. The bell rang right on cue, and Mike Wheeler dashed out of class.
---
The only good thing that happened to you today was that your parents were out of town, so you didn't have to spend the whole evening dodging questions on whether you were okay or if something happened in class. You just put on the music you loved and stared blankly at the cassette player, grateful to be alone.
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
THUM THUM THUM
You frowned, wondering what happened to the music. You changed the song instinctively.
Darlin' you got to let me know
THUM THUM THUM
There it was again, louder than the last. You turned off the music and listened.
Thum thum.
You looked out the peephole and saw a familiar bike lying sideways on the lawn.
Arming yourself with a mop, you walked outside and circled the building. You blinked in surprise when you saw Mike Wheeler trying to climb up the pipes, making a direct beeline to your bedroom.
"What do you think you're doing?" You asked plainly.
"Trying to climb to your window, help me up!" Mike the Dumbass said, then got so shocked at his own words that he fell ass-first into the grass bush. It wasn't a long fall, so you just raised your eyebrow.
"The movies make it look easier," he said, embarrassed.
"The front door's open," you said, rolling your eyes.
Mike followed wordlessly as you walked back inside.
"Make it quick," you said, hands tied. The inside of your house seemed to have shrunk in the few seconds you were out. Or maybe that was just an illusion caused by Mike's gigantic height.
"I know you're not going to forgive me," he started, panting heavily from all the biking and wall climbing. "But you have to know. I saw Lottie with Justin, and they did not look like they were exchanging notes."
You shrugged. "Okay. Bye."
Whatever reaction Mike was looking for, this wasn't it. He did a double take, and tried to shake off his confusion. "You know?"
"I told you this already, Wheeler. I went on one date with him." You said, monotone as ever. "And we were both bored out of our minds. I said that was a bad idea, and he agreed. End of story. I couldn't care less about who he's making out with."
Mike's mouth fell open. He realized he had been doing that a lot these past few days, starting with the time you chugged that whole cup of beer. He also felt the immediate relief wash over him, felt hope digging into his skin like annoying, stupid little moths. He had to try very hard not to smile, because he knew that was the most insensitive thing to do after everything he'd done.
"So you're not dating him." He said, scratching the back of his neck.
"No. Didn't make out with him outside Gus's pizza place either, if you can believe." You sounded gritty. "Now, if that's all. I've dinner to take care of. Bye."
You were practically pushing him outside. He didn't protest much, not until he was out the door and you were about to slam the door on his face.
He put his hand on the doorframe. "You're seriously kicking me out?"
"What does it look like?"
Mike looked into your eyes, obviously doing the math on how exactly he could apologize. He bit down on his lips and let his hand fall from the frame.
"Fine. Bye." He closed the door himself, leaving you confused inside. You hadn't thought he'd give up that easily, and something said that he didn't. You looked through the peephole and saw him circling your garden.
Two minutes later, he came back and rang the bell.
Curiosity triumphed your anger. You opened the door, and saw Mike standing on the doorstep with your lilacs picked from your garden.
"Hi Y/N," he said, feigning pleasant surprise. "You look gorgeous today. Won't you accept my beautiful and thoughtful gift?"
"What are you doing, Wheeler?" you asked, hands crossed.
"I'm trying to impress the girl I like," he said, holding out the flowers.
Your heart nearly stopped beating. "What?"
"It's a long story. See, this girl kissed me when she was drunk, and oh my god, I couldn't stop thinking about it." Mike said. He was confident, but being his best friend, you could also see nervousness shining through his every move. The hand holding the flowers was shaking, and his words were stuttering. "There's just one problem though."
You waited, still reeling from his abrupt confession.
"I'll tell you if you invite me in. If not, I'll give you the flowers and go back. I won't disturb you anymore. Until tomorrow in class when I try again, of course."
You sighed, then moved aside. With a grin as wide as his entire face, he walked in again. You took the flowers and kept them by the couch, then looked at him wary.
"What's the problem?"
"She's my best friend," he began, coming closer. "And the coolest person I know. But see, I was a complete ass to her. I'm scared she won't ever forgive me."
"Then what are you going to do about it?" you asked, almost a whisper.
He came ever closer, and your head was suddenly filled with visions of the party— how he held you by your waist and kissed you— but then he dropped to his knees.
"What the—"
"PLEASE!" He put his hand in a praying gesture. "PLEASE FORGIVE ME I WAS SO DUMB!"
"Mike— stop yelling—"
"I can't lose you over something so dumb, you HAVE to forgive me. Even if you don't like me back, because how can you? I'm a loser. I still CAN'T lose my best friend—"
You realized he wasn't going to stop his chatter soon, so you pulled him up by his collar and kissed him. His eyes went wide, before shutting them altogether and pressing his lips back. He was smiling between kisses, the happiest you've ever seen him in a long time. His eyes were positively twinkling when he finally let you go.
"Does this mean you forgive me?"
"I mean, it's been a week and I haven't kissed any guy so—"
"Oh, shut up," Mike laughed, pulling you back in for a kiss.
---------
THE END
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if you'd like to make a small donation, here's my kofi!
yesterday my dad bought me a samsung phone. one with really good features. and i may sound like a whiner and i feel like a mean bitch, like– it’s one of the reasons i did not want him to buy me a new phone and i kept postponing it for almost two months– he was kind of an asshole throughout the process and after it (and it’s basically the same everytime i visit home). the first thing that was pissing me off was the fact that we had already discussed it hundreds of times about which model i wanted to buy but when we were at the store he asked me which model i wanted to buy, then ignoring my whole opinion proceeded to call his friend and asked which one would be the best– after that i insisted i wanted to buy the one i suggested and he was like you should not get influenced from your friends belongings ? 😭
and then he proceeded to insult my mom and myself saying that we don’t know anything about this (not directly, but, technically saying women won’t understand electronic stuff.)
after that i was like, i want to buy a phone, but not like this.
i did end up getting the one he wanted and after the payment he points to my mom and me and says, “is there something else they’re needed for?” 😭 in his defence (🙄) he probably didn’t say it out of malice but it was the second thing that pissed me off last night.
another reason due to which, for the past two monts i have been delaying getting a new phone was this feeling of being an ungrateful daughter. i feel like i should be nicer to him because he’s spending on me. he took us to good place for food today and also bought books for me but all the while making small remarks about how my choice is somehow not right and ‘this or that’ is better.
this is so shit because i don’t get why parents have to guilt trip their children into thinking that by purchasing things they’re ‘buying their loyalty’? now if i did something that went against their will or understanding, my parents would go on and say that they did and have done so much for me and i betrayed their trust.
idk.
in my village, when girls start smiling and being happy too much, people rush to cut down their wings.
that is all the rant i have in me today. thank you and sorry if you read this whole thing. just one more thing, girls, women, this world is fucking crazy. always look out for the smallest red flag, the slightest intuition you have and never let a man be in a position to make you feel inferior 🥲🤍
sometimes i feel my work here is underrated (ouch, straight to it– ik) but tbh i think we all feel that way at certain times. that is the thing about fandoms, i guess. sometimes it’s a really hot topic and then it slows down.
now!
it’s not like i am a professional writer, or an english major or a regular poster but i guess it’s fair to feel this way.
Actually, you are enough. Even if you don’t work. Or study. Or go out. Or have friends. Or have family. You’re enough because you exist and your existence is enough to be enough because you are not a product. You are not a sum of output. You are not a task to complete. But because you are something the universe wanted and put here even if you’ll never understand why. Somewhere in the cosmos your existence makes a difference, even if it’s not the way others existences do.
do you have any spider-man fic recs, i feel like i’ve read them all😭 i’ve even considered writing them myself lol
okay im gonna tell you 👀 i have been on this app for a long time now and i read a few great ones. i’m gonna link the masterlists of all the people below but i am not tagging them because i am not sure if they are still around or not and i don’t want to disturb them 😭 i want to specify that all these work are theirs and not mine.
this
this
this
this
this
this
this
this
this
this
also check out this blog, it’s a compilation of all t.h. and (i think) p.p. fics
Hii, may i request a blurb featuring tasm! Peter Parker and Reader? Could be really anything, fluff or angst whatever you are comfortable writing! Thank you so much! <3
hi there! sorry, but i wanted requests because i am stuck and don’t have any idea for a storyline. if you want anything specific please let me know, otherwise i can find some prompt list and reblog it so you can choose from there. thank you so much 😭🤍🤍
