when, — three days before the grand opening of nouveau
closed — @reidhalstead
Continued from: HERE
The cold felt nice — like tiny stabs against her skin. Not sharp enough to draw blood, but just enough to keep her focused. In the distance someone shouted about theft, but those lights coming from the windows across were so shiny, and so bright, and when she stared for longer they almost changed colors, and all that shouting was drowned out. Reid's words made her aware just how much she's had to drink — his voice wobbly and somewhat higher, strangely louder in her ears. Maybe he was just laughing, and she failed to recognise the signs — green hues capturing him then, focusing on those wrinckles around his mouth, and how the full, pink lines stretched and teeth showed.
Where their feet pounded along the pavement, the town looked less ominous, the shadows lingering between them — less menacing. She laughed, too. No idea what for. What the hell were they even talking about?
Something, something, Rose — something, bathroom — something, whispers, something —
Anika felt like she was being stranded at sea, with no fucking clue how morse code worked.
And it didn't fucking help that her attention was like a fly. Here one moment, gone the next. Just when one thing caught her eyes, another pulled her by the ear. Did she really need to know what he was saying, anyway? Would he shut up, if she just nodded along and —
But then it clicked.
She almost chocked on the whiskey going down her throat. "You did not just seriously ask me that." her head shook from side to side, slowly. Then her bright, glazy eyes stared at him with all the seriousness she could muster, and said: "You're drunk." in that accusatory tone, like she hadn't had a drop of alcohol all night. Like she was nothing but a victim to his foolishness. "And stupid. Like a newborn — or something."
Two Hot to Handle - TASM!Peter Parker x AFAB Reader (18+)
Part 2 of “Too Hot to Handle”
A/N: Worth noting that I am winging this weird alternate universe thing with the timeline, but that’s just a by product of writing this stuff eh.
Warnings: Sexual themes, swearing, nudity, fluff
Words: 1.6k
As soon as the new cappuccino takes its place in the centre of your table, you both move to speak. You laugh and Peter sits down in front of you with a stretched, closed mouth smile. You recognise it’s implications.
"You first." Your focus drops to his arms where they sit, loosely crossed, on the table in front of him. His fingers flex and you watch as his muscles move under his skin and resist the temptation to reach out and touch him. Mostly afraid of how it will make you feel.
"I know I was a tool." He speaks frankly. You pick up your drink and quirk up an eyebrow. He’s understating it. "But when I walked out I didn't know how to come back.” Before your quick wit can fight back, he continues. “I was a guy in my mid twenties who had so many feelings he couldn’t talk about.”
"You did talk about them a bit." You challenge.
"That may be so. But you have to know there was so much more I didn't say." He inhales and casts his eyes around the room. Apprehension colours his facial features.
"Like how you were Spiderman.” His eyes snap to yours like a magnetic closure. “Are Spiderman."
"How?"
"I thought you'd tell me that." You chuckle.
"No- how did you know?!" All guys at that age were something of an enigma, or fancied themselves to be, but Peter was especially distant and mysterious. When things ended between you and he managed to make himself off grid, you began to wonder. All speculation at the time, but Peter’s reaction is certainly telling.
"Spandex doesn't leave much to the imagination.” You tease. “Something about the shape of his...body...was familiar." You smile mischievously.
"You're telling me, you knew I was Spiderman because of the outline of his c-"
"No, but I do know now!" The blush on Peter's face made you want to kiss him.
"Are you serious?"
"About your cock? No. About knowing you're Spiderman, 100%."
"...when did you realise it was me?"
"Shortly after you left. Obviously I saw Spiderman on screen a hell of a lot more than I saw you, in any capacity and I could just see that same...energy."
"Is that what we are calling my dick now?" Your free hand covers your face.
"Pete!" His face softens, a strange, sweetness spreading over it. "…What?"
"Something about being called Pete makes me feel like a 40 year old man who harasses women at the bar." You suppress the laughter. "But when you say it..." He looks down. "At the risk of sounding as much a prick as I was when we last saw each other, can we go somewhere more private? I don't think everyone needs to know how badly Spiderman regrets his last sexual encounter with you."
“Excuse me?!”
“No I-”
“Christ Peter, I think I got the hint enough when you left after it happened.”
“No, please.” He raises his hands as though he is going to reach out and touch you. But he doesn’t. “That’s not what I meant and exactly what we need to talk about.” His eyes keep flicking to your mouth and whilst you so desperately want to slap him, part of you can't dismiss the way it felt before he left you last. You nod, leaving the cappuccino on the table to follow him out the door.
When he opens his flat door he stands to the side, ushering you through. "Please, ladies first."
"Plural? Damn. Once a ladies man, always a ladies man I guess." He rolls his eyes.
"I'm a one at a time guy. The last was...a French teacher. Spoke a lot of French. It was hot." You spin around with a look of what must be shock. “You know, I think I am going to shut my mouth and think about what I say before I say it.”
Your silence allows the thoughts to ruminate. You two have been nothing to one another for a long time. You only wished you'd made the most of your singledom. "Your bothered about the French teacher." He says, sitting down on the couch.
"It has nothing to do with me." You speak softly. Though true, it's hard to admit. It’s hard for Peter to hear too. He didn’t want to leave, he just thought he was doing the right thing. As it stands, he seems to have no measure of the way in which to minimise people’s pain.
“I wish it did.”
“Okay, next time you guys get it on, send me a quick text.” You jest weakly and he rolls his big, beautiful eyes.
"You're so annoying."
"So are you." You defend. You pause. You shake your head. “All this time and you swan in like nothing changed." There was a distance to your words, as if you’d thrown them into the air particles of the apartment, not wanting to address the electric thoughts running through you.
"I know."
"And nothing has." You whine immaturely, putting your head in your hands, leaning over your lap.
"I know." He strokes the back of your neck, tentatively: possibly the most intimate moment you had shared with one another in all the time you had known him. "Can I ask why?"
"Why what?" Your voice is muffled.
"Why has nothing changed for you?"
“Maybe coming to terms with you being Spiderman softened your exit and helped me understand some of it. It wasn’t your typical fuck boy going off to fuck my best mate or something. You just disappeared and it kind of hurt.” Your words fade.
"How did you really know I was Spiderman?"
"Like I said…or implied, it was a guess! Though an educated one. But you are the most recklessly, selfless man I know. Even without webs or superpowers you would have leapt off a bridge for-" You stop. Peter looks uncomfortable. He did jump off a bridge. For Gwen.
"Peter." You sigh and put your hand over his. He turns his hand and your palm falls into his daintily.
"I loved her a lot." You nod. "But in a way I..." He squeezes your hand. "She died so long ago, people always said I was still in love through college. I think still having to be Spiderman, every waking hour, mostly, meant I couldn't ever separate the superhero loss from my heart’s loss." You blink, unprepared for such a conversation. "Something you did that day or something about how you made me feel felt like I was cheating on her."
"I'm sor-"
"No, no. Don't apologise. You weren't to know I was there when it happened." He swallows and you sense a shift. “Can I kiss you?” You are thankful for him taking control of the situation.
You share a soft, gentle kiss and a smile between you. It’s a relief. For both of you. Peter leans in again, confidence finding its way into the kiss, making it deeper, darker and hotter.
You feel it low in your body and moan. Peter pulls back, staring at you with something like alarm.
"What? Forgotten what a woman enjoying herself sounds like?"
"I will not make a comment about pleasing women and instead refer you to the knowledge that I had committed that sound to memory and wondered if I had actually heard it or made it up again." He eyes up your neck before going in, nipping, sucking and licking. You sigh loudly and crumble under his advances. You reach over and stroke the stiff denim of his vintage jeans. He groans against your neck and you continue, undoing the buttons and zipper with only a slight fumble. "Nervous, sweetheart?" The reality was staggering. The idea of fucking him was one thing, but his confession about the moan had you wondering if he was just as sentimental about this as you were.
You look down and see Peter has been freed from the confines of his boxers and you are breathless with what you feel might be fear. "Is it how you remember?" His breathy whisper is accompanied by a smirk, making your heart race.
"Peter, if you think I've spent five years committing your genitals to memory you've got another thing coming." You laugh, weakly.
"Hopefully you." His fingertips trace up your left thigh, disturbing the dress in its place. "You want to come, don't you?" His eyes search yours as you struggle to catch your breath. "I've missed this." Somehow his hand is under your dress, stroking at the front of your underwear. You gasp. "Such a good pussy. Fuck knows I haven't forgotten it in five years." Each slow graze of his fingers has you hooked on every word. "You in there?" He kisses your jaw. You can't speak. Something akin to a squeak passes your lips and he throws his head back with laughter, withdrawing his fingers from the tormenting. You can’t recall the last time he bellowed like that. For a long time he seemed troubled. He was troubled. You just didn't know how badly at the time.
You want to envelop him in your arms and kiss him forever, but the ache in your chest tells you you don’t know how long you have.
You're looking at him for some time before you realise he's caught your empathetic gaze. "You look gorgeous when you look at me like that." The thoughts flow freely from his conscience.
"How am I looking at you?"
"Like you want to protect me or something."
"I suppose I do."
"I am definitely ruining the sentiment when I'm sat here with my dick out."
“N- no, oh my gods, would you just listen for one minute!”
Fenrys sighed on the other side of the line and Lorcan could almost see his eyes roll. “Yeah, fine, speak.”
Lorcan pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m at the gym now and I’m going to the store after. You’ve already texted me what we needed and for some reason, you emailed it to me? I’ll be home in a couple hours, I’ll get your shit, Hellas Fen!”
“But I’m hungry now,” he whined and Lorcan gritted his teeth.
“Fen. I swear, I’ll kill you dead, I will literally murder you in your sleep.”
Fenrys exclaimed, “I’m gonna starve to death in this house, we have no food!”
Lorcan jogged slightly to catch the door to the gym, speaking harshly, “I can’t talk anymore, figure it out yourself.” With that he hung up and popped in his earbuds, scrolling through his playlists before pressing one at random.
He swiped his card through the scanner, nodding once at the receptionist who had always looked at him a little too friendly, a little too obvious in her desire. He shivered slightly when he entered the stairwell leading to the weight room, the concrete walls and stairs trapping the cold in them. He flipped the hood of his hoodie up, taking the stairs two at a time.
He shouldered the door open and his ears caught someone’s soft ‘ouch’ and gasp before he grabbed whoever it was so that they wouldn’t fall to the ground. He looked down to see it was Aelin’s friend, the dark haired figure skater.
When she glanced up at him, she huffed a laugh, shaking her head slightly as she stood up on her own two feet. “We really need to stop doing this.”
Lorcan grinned slightly, pulling out an earbud. “Yeah, we do.”
“You know,” she drawled, crossing her arms and drummed her fingers over her sleeve. “This is the third time you’ve made me fall and as they say, once is happenstance, twice is coin-”
“Twice is coincidence and a third time is enemy action.” She smiled at him and he decided right then and there, he would do anything to have her smile like that everyday of his life. “I don’t even know your name and you’ve already pegged me as an enemy…”
“Oh, I’m Elide, Aelin’s baby sister.” She stuck her hand out and he took it, his hand dwarfing hers, their respective calluses scraping against the other’s. “And you must be Lorcan Salvaterre.” She boldly surveyed him, her sharp eyes sweeping up and down his form, a satisfied smirk pulling at her round lips.
“Yeah, what gave it away?” Lorcan in turn surveyed her, drinking in her nearly sinful curves in black leggings and tight black top.
“You’re her favourite person to complain about. I’ve heard more than I ever wanted to know about your so-called ‘man-whore’ ways.” They realized their hands were still linked and they awkwardly dropped them as Lorcan’s cheeks reddened slightly. “She’s taken it on as her personal mission to educate me on how awful and just plain terrible you are.”
Something about how she was looking at him like she would devour him right then and there if they weren’t in public made him suspect she thought very little of her sister’s opinion on him. “Really? And what do you think, Elide?”
“Hmm,” a wicked glint stole into her impossibly dark brown eyes. “I don’t know yet, I might need to get to know you a bit better before I can really decide.” Elide’s tone was teasing as she grinned up at him.
“How’s coffee sound?”
“This afternoon too soon?”
Lorcan had never hated Fenrys more than he did in this moment when his face slowly fell, “I have things to do, I’m sorry.” Her smile faded a little and he was quick to explain, “It’s just I need to buy groceries for the guys and me, we ran out of food and I’m pretty sure Fen is ready to resort to cannibalism.”
Elide actually laughed at his sorry attempt for a joke and he cracked a wide smile, delight shining in his eyes. “How do you live with him? If I were you, I would’ve probably killed him within the first month.”
“Believe me, it becomes harder and harder every day to not do that.”
Her face brightened, like she had an epiphany.“Why don’t I just go with you? I was gonna go later today anyway, Rowan comes over all the time and our fridge is always empty, he eats all my snacks.”
His heart stuttered for a bit and a thought stole into his mind, She’s utterly perfect in every which way.
“Y-yeah, that’d be good.”
She smiled at his slight stammer, replying, “Perfect, I’ll see you in, what, an hour?”
