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lovifie · 3 days

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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

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Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 (3.6k words)

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

Warnings: Poly relationship, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), this chapter is mostly having the conversations to set the poly relationship, no horny stuff on this part is mostly angst and fluff; but dont worry, next part (I only need to revise it) will be up soon and that one? that one is horny ❤️

Simon and Johnny made it to the meeting point an hour later than everyone else. But just like Simon said, no one even thought of leaving before he made it there.

And just as if anything had ever happened, every man boarded the plane and made their way back to base. And if anyone saw Johnny sitting closer to Ghost… no one said anything.

By the time they touched ground, Johnny was expecting you to jump inside the plane as soon as the door opened. But you didn't.

They assumed you would be then on the building, under the shade, waiting for them to make it back safe and sound. But you weren't.

Many of the men that flew with them were being greeted by their friends, talking about celebrating that they have made it home and joking about missing them.

Not Johnny, nor Simon. No one greeted them.

They assumed you would be maybe on your room, busying yourself to take your mind away from the time passing. So they checked, but the room was empty and as if anybody had been there in a while.

The confusion in their mind was getting transformed into worry, starting to run out of harmless scenarios of what could have happened to you.

“What if she's working?” Johnny asks when they closed the door to your room. “We have been out for some time.”

“In the med bay you mean?” Simon asks, the flashbacks of the state you were in when they left making it hard to believe that you would be stable enough to go back to work. “We can drop by…”

They had an urge to get to you. Not only did they want to be welcomed back by you after being deployed, no matter if it has been an easy one or if it was short. It was still time apart and they needed to get back to you.

It was the need to talk to you. To set things straight. They had finally taken the step to stop worrying about what to call things, and the morality of the unconventional and instead now focusing on what they wanted.

They wanted to spill their hearts to you, fill you in on what has happened since they left, on every word they said about you, on every promise made to each other.

The consolation of the fools.

That you would agree just as easily as them.

They were aware of your feelings for the two of them, and the nights spent together with them was more than enough proof.

But it was still an abyss worth of distance between loving two people and seeing those two loved ones… love each other. Especially from a distance, and feeling like the barrier of being away was enough to make you unworthy of being part of it.

They were being overconfident. Neither of them had been able to keep a “normal” relationship for long, and now they thought they could make a three way relationship work.

But it was the possibilities of success that made them silly, the chance that the three could be together, that it could work, that the three of you would be happy.

They already knew what it was like to not have anything, were they not allowed to dream of having everything?

But their dream started to ramble when they entered the med bay, asking for you and being told you have been deployed.

Because although they were happy you have been discharged, it was a big step from not being able to work to being deployed right back into action.

Johnny reacted first. His stomach turned, guilt and regret hitting him with force. Was this the same thing you felt when he was deployed? The feeling of throwing you into the wolf jaws? He understands then, that it was not your doubts on him, it was not you feeling that he wasn't good enough, or strong enough. It was you trying to protect him, to keep him from dying in such a stupid and preventable way. Did anyone try to hold you back from working?

Simon was silent, he could read on Johnny's face perfectly fine what he was thinking. But there was an extra factor that Johnny was not taking in mind. When Johnny was deployed, Simon was with him. Nothing would have gotten to Johnny as long as he stayed on his side, and even in your panic driven mind you were able to realise it too.

So even in your least stable mindset, you could see that Johnny would make it back. That he was not alone, and that Simon would give his life trying to protect Johnny if it came to it. Just like you would and just like you did, deep in the tunnel.

But Simon was on base, and so was Johnny. And you were deployed with who knows who and who knows where. Completely out of reach for them. They knew somebody must have gone with you, but they didn't know who so they wouldn't know if they would even try and protect you. It wouldn't be the first time that a team has come back without the assigned medic because “we thought no one would shoot the medic”.

Different flavours of guilt were sailing through their blood vessels. Guilt from being with each other. Guilt for not calling more while deployed. Guilt in Simon for being happy that Johnny got deployed because it meant they were alone. Guilt in Johnny for not having taken your point of view when he was deployed. Guilt for being happy since they were in the car meanwhile you could already be dead.

They realised, there and then, when looking at each other, that there existed a chance that they could never see you again. Not because you were not good enough, or because you were not ready; but because a deployment is a deployment.

Price's office was the next stop. To tell him they were back, to file the reports and what was more important, to know where you were.

“She's with Alex, on a reconnaissance mission.” He explained. A reconnaissance mission, harmless enough to send a two person team… but why a medic? “The therapist recommended to keep her busy and away, they have orders not to engage with the objective.”

That was enough to ease their minds, at least you were not trapped in your room wondering if they were dead. It was them now the ones that had to wait while in the dark.

The payment for their unfaithfulness.

But unlike you when they were gone, they had each other. So the loneliness wasn't so lonely, and even less as their relationship advanced. Plus, the time together helped them grow closer.

And suddenly, every excuse was good to stand closer, stay alone for longer, coincidentally every task was a couple’s task, and on and on.

From everyone outside it looked like what it used to look like before the accident. When Ghost would do his job and Johnny would find his way to stay close.

Only Ghost was aware of the subtle differences; Johnny was no longer running after him, if anything, it was Ghost walking on Johnny's shadow.

But late at night, in their rooms, the shadows blended together.

It was easier that way, and soon enough, every night that you spent away, they spent together. They always found a way to mention you, to fantasise about you, to dream and plan about you.

“We should take her out for dinner to ask her.”

“Do we need to ask her together or can I ask her first?”

“Do you think we can request a bigger mattress?”

“Do you think Gaz will switch rooms with her so we are all closer?”

“Do you think Price will find out?” “I think he knows since the house.”

“I can't fucking wait until she's back.”

“I can't wait to hear her moan your name.”

It almost felt as if Soap had never hated Simon, like they had always been this close.

As it always should have been.

When the helo you were flying in finally touched down, Simon and Soap were together in Johnny's room.

When you stepped out of the helo, Simon moved to lay over Johnny on his bed.

You were walking to the storehouse to drop your equipment and bags, and they were doing the same, taking off their clothes.

While you wondered whose room to visit first, Simon or Johnny's; they wondered who got to stay at the top, Simon or Johnny.

There hasn't been a time where they get together, that they didn't bring you up. And this time wasn't any different, yet.

“I'll always be in debt with her for bringing you back to me, Johnny.”

And when you decided to drop by Johnny's room first, Simon was moving to lay on his back, legs spread around Johnny's wide hips.

That's what you saw.

When you opened the door, too excited to knock before opening it.

It's the guilt on their faces that makes you feel like you are intruding. The way Johnny clings the sheets over his body, the slight pained look on Simon's face when he tries to prop himself up.

“Sorry.” You mutter, not even agreeing you should be the one apologising, and closing the door before half walking half sprinting to your room.

Inside Johnny's room, they only share a look of regret before working on getting dressed to run after you.

Is Simon the one that manages to go out of the room first, catching your silhouette taking a turn at the end of the hall.

He calls your name, trying to get you to stop, in vain as you don't even bother to look at him.

“Love, please, listen to me” He says, when he finally catches up to you, pulling your hand to turn you around.

“No! It's not fair!” You exclaim, finally turning around.

If Simon has ever felt guilt before, this must be a new feeling, a stronger mutation of the dreaded feeling. Because the sight of your tear stained face might not be a new one, but knowing it is his fault, has his stomach turning on itself.

It's the fact it could have been easily avoided; if only they waited for you, if only they didn't get together today, if only they had chosen Simon's room, if only they had locked the door.

But they didn't.

And the consequences were looking at him.

“What's not fair? Talk to me, please” He doesn't even know what he's expecting you to say. What do you even say in these kinds of situations?

“Listen, I understand that coming to terms with your sexuality is a fucking mess in the head, but it's not fair to drag me into it.” You say, pointing to your head to emphasise your words. Trying your best to keep your voice from cracking, to look strong. “It's not fair to use me between the two of you to be together without feeling bad.”

“No, no, no, love, you got it all wrong, I promise, that's not it.” Simon tries to calm you down, his hands moving to caress your arms but stopping when you raise your hands to stop him.

“I-I don't know, Si… I… I already felt like an absolute bitch for messing around with the two of you, but if on top of that, you two have something going on I- I'm stepping out, alright?” Deep down in your mind, the part of it that is not currently drowning in emotions, the rational part, is trying to get you to see how hypocritical you are being. They weren't doing anything you haven't done, but still; you chose to go out of your way to make them feel bad.

You can excuse yourself when you were with Johnny, back in the house when you thought you were going to day. No one was going to blame you for it, and neither were yourself.

But the night you spent with Simon was a choice, your choice. And you didn't stop to think about how Johnny would feel about it. So how do you dare to get mad at them for giving you a taste of your medicine?

“No, please, love, no, let us explain please.” Simon can see the way your mind is spiralling, your brain twisting between telling yourself you have the right to get upset and telling you that you deserve the pain in your heart.

“Not now, Ghost, alright? I-I need to go, I'm sorry. I hope you two are happy together.” And you hate the way it sounds leaving your mouth, because it doesn't matter how upset you are, you still love them, and you do mean it when you say you hope they are happy.

But you realise your mind is not rationalising your thoughts, and staying for any longer will only translate in you saying things to Simon that you don't mean.

Simon also notices, realising as well that this is not the conversation to have in the middle of the hall and without Johnny. So he lets you go, only turning back when he hears you lock your door.

It takes you longer than you would like to admit to come to your senses. Having cried your feelings out probably helped.

You still feel embarrassed, when you realise the only reason why you reacted so badly was your own fault. Your own self doubt and self depreciation.

Your own self hate making it impossible in your mind to understand that Simon and Johnny wanting each other could still mean that they would like you.

It makes you want to bury yourself under the covers, how could you believe yourself to be better than any of two of them? Of course they would choose the other over you the second they got over their differences.

You should be happy for what you got, the time spent together. It was nice while it lasted.

There is a knock on the door, you hold your breath to keep yourself from making any sound. Whoever it is, they can leave.

“I'm not leaving until you let me in, love.”

Of fucking course.

You kick your covers off of you, walking to the door dragging your feet. You unlock it, opening just enough to look up at Simon.

“What?” Your voice is hoarse from crying for so long, you must sound and look like a charity case because you can only see pity in Simon's eyes.

“I bought you dinner, you didn't go to the mess hall, I assumed you would be hungry after the deployment.” He says, lifting the hand with the bag of food.

“I'm fin-” Your stomach grumbling exposes you. “Thank you.”

You take the food, looking into his eyes only to see the little smile on the crinkles.

“Anything else, Simon?” You ask, not wanting to close the door on his face.

“Can we talk now?” He asks, going straight to the point like always.

You sigh, walking into your room letting the door open. “What's there to talk about, Si?”

“About Johnny, you and I.” He answers and you scoff at him.

“You mean about Johnny and you?” You ask, dropping the food on the table and sitting on your bed.

“No. I mean about Johnny, you and I.” He repeats, walking closer to you.

You sigh, averting his gaze. “You don't need to do this, Simon.”

“What do you think I'm doing?” He asks, crouching down to be eye level with you.

“Making me feel a part of it out of pity.” You say, finally looking at his eyes.

“Pity? You thinks that's why I'm here?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. You nod at him. “I'm not here for pity, I'm here for you.”

You shake your head, eyes stinging with new tears once again. “No, you don't. You don't want me, Simon. And Johnny doesn't either.”

“Why do you say that, love?” He asks, his hand caressing your knee. “Why do you feel like that?”

“Simon, how can I not feel like it?!” You ask, pushing his hand away. “Can’t you see that Johnny chose me because he didn't have anything else, and then when he had everything he went and chose you!”

“And why can't you see that *I* that have always had everything, only have ever wanted Johnny and you?!” That makes you stop pushing his hand away, but Simon can still see the doubts in your eyes. The broken trust.

“Then why have you never said anything, Simon? Before the accident? When we got back? Ever?”

“Because I was stupid! And a coward!” He finally admits, to you and to himself. “And I didn't know what my feelings meant until I thought it was too late.”

You look at him, trying to see any second intentions on his face. Any lies, any disgust, any pity. But you can only see affection and yearning for your forgiveness; but you still know yourself.

“I need some time, Simon… and to talk with Johnny.” You mumble, looking down to where your hand is over his. You see him nod from the corner of your eyes, he leans forward, kissing your forehead softly and stands back up.

“Eat the food, alright? I made sure they loaded all your faves.” He says, pointing at the food and walking to the door, turning to say just before exiting. “Darling… I hope it isn't too late.”

Johnny doesn't visit you at your room, and you know it is because he is aware he will see you at therapy. Just because the two of you have been seen fit to go back to work, doesn't mean you can ignore the obvious wounds and scars still in your mind.

That's why you are not surprised when he sits next to you on the waiting room

“Morning, bonnie.”

“Morning, Johnny.”

“Simon told me you wanted to talk to me.”

“You don't want to talk to me?” You ask, looking at his face from the side, realising he is looking forward.

“Aye, that I do. But you also told Simon you needed time, I didn't want to push…” he trails off, looking down to his hands.

“Do you like him, Johnny?”

“Don't tell him that I say this but… yes, I like his cranky ass.” He says, a smile appearing on his face. “I also found a journal… and it seems I was fucking obsessed with him, with how much I wrote about him.”

“Your journal?” You ask, suddenly remembering the little notebook he always had on himself. “You never let me look inside…”

“No wonder.” Johnny says chuckling. “You are the only person I wrote about more than about Simon. I couldn't let you see me trailing behind you like a love sick puppy… I had an image to maintain, bonnie lass.”

He knocks your arm with his elbow, making you smile. He is still Johnny… you can't be mad at him when you betrayed him first.

“I'm sorry, Johnny.” You mutter, making him finally look at you with furrowed eyebrows. “For… turning to Simon.”

“Turning? Oh, you meant when you were shagging in his office?” It makes you freeze, the realisation hitting you that he knew all along. “Don't apologise… I turned to him too, after all…”

“Are you happy together?” You ask the dreaded question.

“Very… the only thing missing is you, though.”

“Why me, Johnny? I understand it back in the house because there was nobody else, but now…”

“It is you, because I might not remember how we first met or how it was before the accident, but I remember my life long before you entered my life. And I was happier back at the house only knowing you, than knowing everyone but you.” He says, his hand caressing your thigh.

The lady at the desk calls your name, indicating you to enter the therapist office.

“Go, we will talk later, the three of us.” Johnny says, you nod at him, going into the office.

Outside, Johnny stands up, his session is tomorrow but he wasn't going to let such an opportunity to talk to you to pass him.

You call Simon that evening, asking if he can drop by your room. It takes him 6 minutes to knock on your door.

You let him in, sitting on your bed and patting the mattress next to you inviting him in. “I talked with Johnny this morning.”

“I figured… how did it go?” He asks, laying on his side after taking off the mask.

“Good… I guess.” You say, crossing your legs. “I still don't know what to feel.”

“....did you genuinely thought I was the right person to talk about feelings, love?” He asks, smile appearing on his face.

“No, god no.” You say chuckling, rubbing your face to erase all the nervousness off. “I just… I have never even been in an actual relationship, Simon, I don't… I don't know if I could…”

“Well, any of us three have… “ He says, looking at you.

“Simon… is a disgrace waiting to happen…” You say looking at him.

“It could also be the best decision of our life…” He says, raising an eyebrow.

“I don't know, Si…” you say, playing with your hands.

“Think of it this way.” He says, grabbing your hands on his. “We are already past the no return point, right? The friendship is already fucked, innit?” You nod at him. “Well… what's there to lose then? If we are going to fuck it up… let's fuck it up completely… Don't you think, love?”

It takes you just a couple of minutes to speak again, but it feels like ages on Simon's mind.

“Do you believe it will work?” You ask, voice timid as you look at him.

“Yes, love. I do believe it will work.” He answers, his fingers locking with yours. “What do you say? Will you give us a try?”

“Yeah… what's there to lose anyway?”

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🩷🩷🩷

As I said the last chapter is filled to the brim (pun intended) with smut, so I hope you will like it too

@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z

@lyralein @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212

@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock

@arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk

@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat

@lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw

@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting

@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708

@katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129

@idk-justkane @shanhalen @thatoneslvt @crinoid90 @dukeofjjune

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ghostofhyuck · 15 hours

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NCT Dream when they realized that they're in love with you, their fake girlfriend.

Mark Lee

It started with jealousy. Really. Mark should've known but to stay within the boundaries you two established. You two are fake dating because you're tired of explaining to your parents that you don't need a boyfriend at the moment, so Mark came into the rescue. Mark knew that you don't want any commitments at the moment but oh, when you started to have crush on this classmate of yours, it left a sour impression on him. He was having a push-and-pull moment with his feelings bec first of all, you two aren't in a real relationship, and second, he doesn't have the right to be jealous. But why is he jealous? It probably took Mark days to realized that he's in love with you and his jealousy was the result of it.

Huang Renjun

You and Renjun are platonic soulmates. That's what you two are and despite the whole fake dating scenario, nothing changes between the two of you. BUT that's what Renjun thought. It started with the way he noticed that you prefer wearing makeup on your stressful days, and leaves your face bare during normal days. Then he remembers your drink order at a local coffee shop near your university, or how your hair smells like candy mixed with roses. Renjun unknowingly remembers all these small detail of yours, and he couldn't help but to notice you more. Day by day, slowly it became an epiphany to him, that italicized, "oh." he's in love with you.

Lee Jeno

It was an intimate moment between the two of you. On a late-night convenience store run, you two strucked a conversation that you two never had ever since you two entered a fake relationship. It ranged from senseless topics to serious ones, like your future, your dream, and what you want to do after graduating college. Jeno hums quietly as he listen to your thoughts, he couldn't help but to stare at you, fond because your face was full of expression. So the moment you slipped out that you're uncertain about relationships in your future, Jeno was strucked. That's when he realized that he couldn't imagine his future without you, and a part of him was convinced, that maybe you two should make this relationship be real.

Lee Donghyuck

it's rare for you to go on radio silence. It's not that Haechan's worried or anything, but as his fake gf, you're the type to give him update or what-nots in case there's an emergency where you two need to act like a couple. So when you're not responding to his messages, Haechan found himself going to your apartment, knocking on the door twice. It took him a few minutes to wait until you opened the door --- both of you are surprised to see each other. Haechan found himself staring at your crying face, (you're in the middle of a breakdown.) "what happened!?" he asked with an angry tone, thinking that someone hurt you. Okay, maybe Haechan is worried about you, and he felt himself hurting because you're in that situation.

Na Jaemin

Despite being in a fake relationship, you and Jaemin agreed that you two can still meet other people. I mean, the fake relationship is just so your ex would stop bothering you. It worked but you two maintain it because nothing changed between the two of you. You know that Jaemin keeps on seeing other girls, and you're not worry about it, since you don't have plans of having a boyfriend at the moment. (And what you have with Jaemin is very platonic.) But what you don't know is that Jaemin had that weird feeling whenever he's around with another girl. That he feels like he's cheating on you, and no matter how many girls he tried to meet, he always finds himself looking for you instead.

Zhong Chenle

It started with a fight. A huge misunderstanding that was followed by a miscommunication. It's been a week since you two fought and your anger to Chenle never perished. He was being unreasonable for someone who's a fake bf! He thinks that he's right and wanted to stand on his opinion even though you explained to him calmly your side. But it seems like he doesn't want to believe you, so you walked out first. It's been a week and the guilt is eating Chenle up. Having received an intervention from his friends not only about the fight but also about your fake relationship with him, Chenle probably had an epiphany moment when one of them blurted out, "do you love her?" and then he realized, "oh shit, i do love her."

Park Jisung

When you and Jisung entered a fake relationship, there were rules and boundaries that shouldn't be crossed --- one of them are physical touches like hugs and kisses. BUT it was a party. Everyone was drunk, and you two became the center of the dares. It was just a kiss, they say. You two are dating, so a kiss would be harmless right? And as much as Jisung tried to avoid it, you ended up only giving him a nod, a permission to him to do it. It was probably one of the best five seconds of his life. After the kiss, Jisung would be so dumbstruck about it, even though he apologized to you after and you brushed it off, he couldn't help but to still think about it. He was sleepless!! he wanted to kiss you again, but this time, he wanted it to be real and genuine.

#nct imagines #nct dream #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct dream reactions #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct mark #nct renjun #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 day

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Am I the asshole for having a long distance-digital fuck buddy when I'm married?

I know this sounds bad but hear me out

🦖- to find later. CW- sexual content

So I'm 32F married to H 30M. We had our first child a little over a month ago. Since then my sex drive is through the roof. However I can't have sex for 6 weeks due to healing.

So I did what any horny person would do and make a porn blog and start following tons of blogs that turn me on. This is where things get interesting. All the blogs I've followed I've followed from my main blog which features my face and that I'm married. So enters B 30something M (not married). He message my main blog and has a normal conversation with me.

We message back and forth on Tumblr for a night and then we decide to switch to Snapchat. Things escalated quickly. We talk dirty and send snaps that we shouldn't send (pictures, videos and voice notes). He is literally could not be further across the country from me.

My husband H is inattentive at best. He plays video games when not at work, when not playing he has his airpods in and is watching videos on his phone constantly even to fall asleep at night. He stays up late so I go to bed alone every single night.

So am I the asshole for sexting/ Snapchatting B when we will never cross paths in real life? We both have kids, I have my husband. But like damn the attention and the sexual release feel so good. Plus who knows how long we will be sexting?

#aita #am i the asshole

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im-sleepdeprived · 3 days

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Can you write something about co-workers to friends to lovers?

fix you up

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: i won’t lie to y’all idk how i feel abt this one. its cute dgmw but i hope you guys like it !!! ive had this request for an EMBARRASSINGLY long time, anon if you’re upset, i totally understand

warnings: mentions of injuries, burns, rude customers, bandaging some wounds n stuff, fluff and pining !!! (disclaimer: I’ve never been a barista so forgive me if this is a lil off)

masterlist, requests are open !!

Working in a rustic-vintage-corner-campus-cafe was definitely not how you saw your college years going. Your teen self would’ve killed to work at a place like this but when you grew up, you realized just how different the workload is between a high school student and a uni one such as yourself.

You weren’t complaining of course. The pay was adequate, your manager was a simple old lady who never had much to say other than making sure all the equipment was clean, you got along with your coworkers pretty well for the most part and the customers were tolerable.

But every once in a while, you’d get an entitled shithead who seemed to make it their life’s mission to ruin someone else’s day. And the problem with working a social job such as you did, is that you were an easy target.

It started off as a fairly simple day, you clocked in and put on your apron ready to start your shift for the day. You preferred late morning shifts, leaving afternoons for classes (and the rouge 8am lecture every now and then) and nights for going out or studying.

“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you're here,” Your co-worker, Vanessa, exclaimed.

Vanessa was a few years older than you. She actually wasn’t a student, she’d given college a try and it wasn’t her thing. Apparently, all it did was “try to undermine unstoppable greatness.” She was chatty, but you actually liked that about her. She could keep up a conversation with a statue. When you first started off here she’d been the one to show you the ropes and ever since then, you’d had a specific bond with her that you couldn’t really put a name to.

You gave her a small smile, “Yeah well, I do prefer to show up when promised. Especially when my paycheck depends on it,” you let out a small laugh.

“Yes! See, that's what I love about you,” she made a disgusted face, “Unlike Peter. Honestly, I don't understand how he hasn’t been fired yet! He shows up at least half an hour late to every shift yet Miss Hannigan still keeps him around.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, raising your hands a little in defense, “I didn't mean it as a jab at Peter, I swear.”

She tossed a curled blonde lock of hair over her shoulders while waving her other hand in dismissal, “Honey, don’t worry about it. I know you would never, you’re far too sweet for that. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did, you know, having to work more than half your shift alone? I swear if Bernard did that to me,” she made a big show of gesturing to herself, "I would not deal with it.”

While what she was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, it didn’t feel right talking about Peter like that. Sure, he was late most of the time, leaving you to do most of the work while you waited for him to show up (somehow when he started working you two got the same shift together and it’s just been that way ever since) and while you, also, normally wouldn’t put up with this, there was something different about Peter. You never felt like he was taking advantage of you, and purposefully made you pick up extra slack. It was quite the opposite actually, he always apologized profusely and never slacked when he was on the clock. He always seemed so rushed and out of breath, you were pretty sure the poor boy just needed to learn how to manage time better. Plus, he always took it upon himself to unpack the orders because of all the heavy lifting required (you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, with all the sweaters he wore, but man was he ripped.)

“He’s actually really sweet.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re so keen on defending Peter. You two barely spoke, outside of work of course, and you don’t know much about him. But something inside you didn’t like anyone assuming anything bad about him.

“Yea, well, he’d be a ton sweeter if he clocked in on time,” she laughed as she untied her apron, getting ready to leave. You faked a laugh as well, not wanting the conversation to progress any further.

“Alrighty, well,” she heaved a breath, “I'm off, have a good rest of your day Y/N.”

You smiled once again and sent a wave her way before settling down in front of the register. It was slow today, not many people in the shop. A fellow student you only recognized from work sat in a corner booth with their headphones locked in and was working on what seemed to be some kind of essay.

There was an older woman, however, looking incredibly irritated at the table closest to you. You’d never seen her before but that wasn’t too strange. It was a near-campus cafe, after all, lots of people passing through. She looked to be typing on her phone until, suddenly, she shut it off and made direct eye contact with you.

If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead behind the counter, which wouldn’t be all that ideal considering you couldn’t remember the last time anyone mopped that side of the store.

She stood up and walked towards you and you already dreaded the conversation to come.

“I have an order,” she spit out, as if she were disgusted to even be talking to you at the moment.

No greeting or anything, wow. Someone wasn’t raised right.

Nonetheless, you put on your well-rehearsed customer service smile and gave in. “Sure, I’d be happy to help with that. Can you just give me the order?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to, I called in and placed it and it should be ready by now. I'm going to be late!”

You froze for a moment, not quite sure what to do, “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I just got here and I haven’t heard anything,” you glance at the little whiteboard kept on the counter for these exact situations only to find it empty, “and I don’t see anything here about a phone-placed order. Are you sure you have the right store?”

Her face was so red and steam was practically blowing out of her ears, “Of course, I have the right store! Do you think I'm stupid or something?”

“No! Of course not, I'm so sorry,” you start to blabber off, not wanting to make her any angrier than she already was, “I’ll get things ready for you right away ma’am.”

You turned around and tried to make yourself not freak out as badly as you wanted to. It was so humiliating getting yelled at like this in public! And yeah, maybe if you had such a problem with unpleasant interactions like this, you shouldn't have taken a social job such as this one, but honestly, you thought people would have enough manners not to act up like this. Apparently not.

It slipped your mind for a moment because of how scrambled you got when the lady flipped her lid, but Vanessa has been known to do this, forget to write down orders and leave you to fend for yourself (quite literally since your coworker was never really around) and you’re pretty sure that’s what happened here. Other customers were usually more understanding than this woman bordering on Kathy-Bates-movie-character-insanity over a drink order.

You reached into your back pocket, deciding you’d try to send her a hurried text about any phone calls she might remember. That just seemed to anger your customer more.

“Excuse me?! I'm sitting here waiting for my order and you're too busy chatting away on your phone?”

You lose yourself for a moment and you can’t feel your face anymore.

“I am so sorry ma’am,” you repeat, which seems to be your mantra since you started working today, “I was just checking to see if-,”

“I don't care what you were checking, or what you need to see! Give me what I paid for,” her hand started smacking against the counter loud enough for the only other person in the store to look up, broken from their reverie. They merely shot you an apologetic look before getting back to their work, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“You have terrible customer service, honestly. I come here every Tuesday with my book club, but never again. If I don’t get exactly what I asked for in the next five minutes, I'm calling your boss and not leaving until I'm sure you’re fired.”

You shake your head, “There’s no need to do that ma’am, I'll get everything ready for you.”

You turned around once again, this time, heading towards the cappuccino machine. You’re not sure why you said that considering you have no clue what ‘everything’ is that has to get ready.

In all honesty, there’s a low chance that a suburban-white-soccer-mom type would have any real effect on your employment. Miss Hannigan would surely not fire you just because some order forgot to be written down and some customer got pissed. Right?

But you really didn’t want to find out.

So, you started up the machine and turned to grab a cup. Today, apparently, was just doomed from the start. As you turned to grab one of the cups placed on the shelf over the machine, your hand hit the button that turned on the steam wand. Which was aimed directly at your other hand.

You bit down the yelp that threatened to escape and jumped back, the back of your hand now searing with pain. Instinctively, your other hand came to cup your injured one, which only made it worse. You fought back tears as you moved to turn the steam back off.

Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to try to get your mind working again. “Hello?!” Of course. You turned your head and gave her the fakest smile you’ve ever mustered in your whole life. “One minute ma’am.”

You could hear her going off about how she doesn’t have a minute to spare, but you ignored her, trying to think of what the hell you could give her to just get her out of your face. You’d have to guess her order since I wasn’t actually taken. You’d started playing a game with yourself since you worked here, guessing people's drink orders, and you’d say you’ve gotten pretty good.

You peeked a look back at her. You’d had customers around her age come in before and order, for the most part, the same thing. A plain cappuccino. Seemed like a safe bet.

Swallowing down the pain as best you could, you approached the machine again. This time, taking out the portafilter. It must’ve not been put in correctly because it clattered to the ground, coffee grinds falling around the floor.

You wanted to cry. Your hand hurt like hell, there was a new mess to deal with, and that lady hadn’t stopped complaining since you stepped in.

Frozen, you began to panic a little, breaths coming out sporadically. You’d leave the sweeping for later, but you had to clean the filter so you could use it because it was the only one. And the slightest brush of air made your hand burn even more. You had no clue how to go about this. Maybe if you-

Like an angel, Peter rushed in through the side door. Tying his apron around his waist, he looked towards you. Your hand flew up to your mouth at his perfect timing and you saw his expression grow more concerned.

He rushed towards you. “What happened?” And for a second, you forget everything that was stressing you out just a few moments before. He grabbed your hand so gently, you forgot every ounce of pain.

“I cannot believe this!” She wasn’t giving up and you shut your eyes in frustration, turning to reply to her again. But before you can open your mouth, Peter steps in. “Hold on, can’t you clearly see she’s hurt?”

She scoffed and crossed her arms, “That’s her fault. If she knew how to do her job, it wouldn’t have happened.”

You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His expression hardened and his mouth opened to shoot something back at her, but this time, you cut him off. You placed your non-injured hand on his shoulder and gave him a look.

He stared at you for a few seconds before finally giving in, blowing out some air in a frustrated huff. “Go wait for me inside,” he told you, nodding his head toward the employees-only backroom.

“What?” You asked confused. You didn’t wanna leave him alone.

“You’re not working right now, there’s no way I’m letting you. I’ll deal with her. Go, I’ll be right there,” he said, shoving you away gently.

Once you heard that he’d be following you, you were more willing. You walked through the door and took a seat at the table usually used for meal breaks. The ‘break room’ was a small room positioned in the back of the store. You can’t remember what this place used to be (a diner maybe?) but this specific room was used as an office, but Miss Hannigan claimed she had no use for an office so it was used for employee breaks.

Every ounce of you was grateful for Peter’s Superman moment back there. He came in today earlier than usual and he’d totally saved your ass. You were going to make sure to tell him.

You weren’t waiting long before the door opened again and Peter walked in, holding a backpack you hadn’t seen on him before. In his other hand, he held a drink. He placed the drink on the table before he grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it close to yours, and you turned your body to face him.

He picked up your hand again, just as gently as before. “Alright,” he let out a breath of relief, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but, it’s still gonna take a while to heal. Wait,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag and taking supplies out while you just stared at him.

“I thought you majored in biochemistry.” You blurted out. Your face heated up a little when he looked at you curiously.

“I- I saw your textbooks once when you left your bag open. And I’ve seen you around campus, near the science-y buildings…and stuff.” You shrugged and he chuckled.

“I do,” he nodded, “any medical stuff is self-taught. I get into a lot of…accidents.”

“Oh.” You nodded at him. What kind of accidents would he get into? You’d never seen him hurt, but what did you know.

“I take it you don’t major in anything science-y,” he said, grinning at you.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t. But I have a chemistry class I have to take for credit. Which makes no sense because chemistry has nothing to do with what I want to learn.”

He laughed and set his bag back down, everything he needed was now laid out on the table. “Okay,” he picked up a white tube with red lettering on it. “This is gonna help with pain and scarring. I’m going to spread some of this, then wrap it up for you.” You looked at the table and saw he’d also taken out some white gauze. What kind of ‘accidents’ did he get into?

You nodded, at a complete loss for words. You had no idea Peter knew so much about injuries and you were so thankful he was helping you out. You didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t close either.

He applied a small amount to the back of your hand, asking you constantly if you were okay as he rubbed it on softly. Honestly, even if it did hurt, you wouldn’t have the heart to tell him.

He finished up with the cream and moved onto the gauze, expertly wrapping it up to lightly cover your wound. When he was finished with that, he carefully tied it off, making sure not to tie it too tight.

“There,” he leaned back and smiled at you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “All fixed up.”

“Thank you, Peter, really.” You reluctantly pulled your hand back into your lap, missing the warmth of his fingers wrapped around it.

“You don’t need to thank me Y/N, it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad I got here earlier than usual.”

You nodded and looked down. “Well thanks anyway, you saved my ass back there. Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me today but I kept fucking everything up.”

“Hey,” he said softly, making you look up and meet his gaze. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Okay? You made a few mistakes, but that's not your fault. She shouldn’t have been treating you like that, especially when you’d hurt yourself.” He looked away and scoffed as he remembered the terrible customer that had ruined your morning. You would’ve felt extremely touched by his care if it weren’t for his next words.

“All that for a plain fucking cappuccino.” He mumbled.

“A plain cappuccino? Really?” You asked excitedly, forgetting about everything, and grinning at him wildly.

“Um, yeah…why?” He asked you, confusion was written all over his face, but he couldn’t help his own smile slightly growing when he noticed your enthusiasm.

“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly, smile never fading, “I just…well, I play this game with myself where I guess people's drink orders. And I think I’m getting pretty good because that’s exactly what I was going to make her before you walked in.”

He laughed out loud and you joined in. “What’s my order?” He asked.

You paused for a moment. “A caramel macchiato with extra caramel.”

He looked at you for a bit, “Close,” he admitted. “It used to be.”

“So are you gonna tell me what it is now?”

Shaking his head, he leaned over the table and dragged the drink he’d brought in earlier in front of you. “Here,” he changed the subject, “I made you this.”

You’d completely forgotten about it, and when you took a closer look, you realized it was your coffee order.

Your mouth fell open, “How’d you know?”

He just shrugged, smiling slightly. He knew it was your favorite, but the confirmation was still nice. “I've seen you make it for yourself. Educated guess.”

“Oh my god,” you said, voice soft. It was a simple thing really, you had one most days at the end of your shift. But the fact that he’d noticed… It just meant a lot. “Thank you so much, Peter.”

He just waved you off, his smile growing when he noticed your reaction to the drink. He couldn’t believe he got a chance to speak to you. Truly speak to you. He was always too awkward or embarrassed or trying to avoid embarrassment. But now, while he didn’t like the circumstances that led you both here, he was actually talking to you. And it was nice.

“So,” he started, not wanting this to end just yet, “you said you’ve got a chemistry class?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, picking up your drink and taking a sip. “The one with Professor Hall. I actually have a class after this shift. I totally suck though, and he hates me. I just don’t get it, and he doesn’t explain it well!”

Peter nodded, completely understanding what you meant. It was a tough subject to begin with, and he knew not everyone was as into science as he was, add onto that a teacher who doesn’t really teach, it’s a recipe for disaster.

“I actually had that class. Last year. I can help you, sometimes. If you’d like me to, that is!” He rushed out. Great, he thought, now I’m getting awkward.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? Do you mean that?”

“Of course. I think I’ve still got my notes too, if you want ‘em.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t saving your ass again.

“Oh my god Peter,” you placed your non-injured hand on his knee, not noticing the way his body stiffened and he gulped. “That would help so much. There’s a huge exam coming up, and it's a huge part of my grade so I have to pass. I started cramming earlier but—”

“I’ll help,” he reassured you, “I enjoy science anyway, so it’ll be fun for me.”

“Thank you,” you repeated. Staring at him so close, you realized you’d never noticed how handsome he was. Sure there were times you thought he was cute, from afar, but now…you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way one of his eyebrows was slightly curlier than the other, unwilling to sit straight. You couldn’t help but stare-

“Oh my god,” you repeated, except this time, you had remembered something. “If we’re both in here, who’s outside?”

“What? Oh, um,” he scratched the back of his neck, still reeling from having you so close to him. “Freddy’s out there?”

“Freddy?” You asked confused.

He nodded. “The guy writing on his laptop, he’s friends with my roommate, throws the craziest parties. He’s chill, I told him to keep an eye out if someone else walks in. But it’s been slow, so I think we’re good.”

“Oh, okay.” You said, standing up. “We should probably still go though.”

He stood up beside you, frowning. “I don’t think you should work with your hand hurt. I don’t want you accidentally making it worse.”

Your heart warmed at his concern. “That's really sweet Peter, but I’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened before, I never do stuff like that, even accidentally.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you just go home? I can take it for today.”

You shook your head quickly, “I’m not leaving. I have a class later and it would just be a waste of time going back and forth anyway.”

You walked towards the door, opened it, and exited before he had a chance to argue anymore. You stepped behind the counter while Peter rushed out behind you. You watched Freddy give him a thumbs up and Peter nodded at him before he followed right after you.

“Are you sure you should go to class today? I can walk you home so you can take the day off,” he offered, and he looked so genuine you almost accepted.

“Peter,” you laughed and he decided no matter what your response was, it wouldn’t matter because hearing you say his name like that was enough. “I’ll be fine, I didn’t break both my legs, it's just a small burn.”

He stared at you for a bit as you smiled at him, trying to get him to ease up. “Fine,” he gave in reluctantly. “But no going towards the cappuccino machine,” he waved a finger at you, “or the ovens. Or anything hot!”

“Fine,” you shot back, grinning wide and he couldn’t help but return it.

The rest of the morning had gone by easily and you thought maybe you didn’t have totally shit luck. Peter was way more fun than you ever thought he’d be and you wondered why you didn’t start talking to each other sooner.

It used to be silently working together but after those few moments in the break room, you guys were laughing your whole shift. He meant what he said, and he kept you away from anything that produced heat (which you told him was an insane boundary to set in a cafe) so you had extra time to make quips here and there.

You started playing your order-guessing game with him, teaching him certain traits that gave someone away:

“Side part, beanie, and a crossbody? Oh, he’s getting a tall, dark, americano for sure.”

“She’s getting tea. No coffee, just tea. Maybe with a little lemon wedge.”

And he started to get the hang of it.

“She looks like she drinks matchas right?” He said to you when a girl around your age walked in. He’d been right and you both laughed about it afterwards.

When your work shift ended, you were actually upset.

“I’ve got a class to get to,” you told him, lifting your bag onto your shoulder. You’d both cleaned up and gotten yourselves ready, now standing in front of the door. Something in you didn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying your time together far too much to end it so soon.

“Yeah…” he trailed off, you waited for him to continue but he hesitated.

“What is it?” You crossed your arms and smiled slightly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “I just…well, I was just wondering—if it's okay with you of course!” He rushed out, quickly bringing his hands up. “That I could walk you to class?”

You laughed, “I’d love that Pete, thank you.” You turned to open the door to let you both out but he quickly moved forward, holding it open for you and motioning for you to move forward.

Looking back at him, you smiled and noticed his cheeks were a little red. How had you never noticed how adorable he was?

The walk back to campus wasn’t long but you learned a lot. He told you where he went to high school, his friends he still kept in touch with, his Aunt May, some funny moments from parties he’d been forced to attend by his roommate, and you laughed together.

You told him about the book you were currently reading, your life back home and your family, and why you chose to go to this college. He went along with your jokes, which made it all the more better for you. “I mean if you think about it,” you'd said, “it is so much easier to romanticize your life when your school campus is as pretty as this one, and that’s real motivation!”

The conversation flowed naturally between you two and it felt like you’d been friends for ages. He dropped you off outside of your class building with the promise of picking you up afterward so you two could study together.

“So I’ll be back here in an hour right,” he asked.

“Right,” you smiled at him. “And thanks again Pete, for everything.” You held up your bandaged hand, shaking it a little before setting it back down.

He shook his head quickly, “Don’t thank me for that. Really.”

You stared at him with a warm expression. “Bye Peter,” you waved as you turned to walk into your class.

“Bye Y/N,” he returned. He watched you walk through the doors, shooting him one last smile before you disappeared from view, before blowing out a breath of air.

He’d finally gotten a chance to talk to the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and he got to walk her to class! And they were meeting up afterward. After working so close to you and never having the guts to initiate a conversation, he’d settled for just admiring you from afar. But after today, there was nothing that could keep him away.

You were not having a good day.

You’d just found out that your chemistry exam was being bumped up to two days from now. Even with the early studying you’d done before, there was no way you could catch up with everything that fast. You were so overwhelmed you had completely forgotten Peter was waiting for you outside.

You walked out, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and you practically jumped out of your skin when someone placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft yet full of concern. Peter. “It's just me. What happened?”

The second he saw you walk out, he could tell something was off. He could literally sense the anxiety rolling off of you in waves. He had waited for you to look up and stop when you saw him, but you were just about to walk past him before he stopped you. Now, you were looking at him with distress coating every feature on your face. Your brows were pinched, your lip red from biting it, and your eyes wide and distant like you couldn’t even see him and he was standing right in front of you. Something had gone wrong and he wanted nothing more than to fix it.

“What is it? What’s wrong? He asked frantically.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands flying up to the sides of your head and gripping your hair. You weren’t looking at him anymore, “Oh my god.”

“Ok Y/N,” he said nervously, “you’re starting to scare me.”

“Two days Peter!” You looked at him wildly. “Two days! I can’t go over everything in two days, is he fucking insane? I didn’t even know he could do something like that, I mean, can he do something like that? I feel like that shouldn’t be allowed it should—”

You cut yourself off and started pacing back and forth in front of him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna bomb this. And if I fail, it’ll bring my whole grade down! I can’t afford that I—”

“Hey,” he repeated, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder again. “I said I’m gonna help you, and I meant it. So we’re gonna get through this together, even if we have to stay up all night.”

You stared at him, trying to wonder what you’d done in your life to deserve such an angel.

You shook your head quickly, “I really appreciate that Peter, but I’m serious. There’s no way I can learn everything I need to know that fast.”

You tried to smile at him but it didn’t reach your eyes.

He grinned, his expression the total opposite of yours. “Well, you’ve clearly never studied with me, so don’t sound too sure yet.”

Another thing you’d come to realize was just how smart Peter was.

You really should’ve known when he told you he’d taken that advanced chemistry class a year ago. And passed.

Looking through his notes, you could see his attention to detail. He really wasn’t a slacker in the classroom because everything was clearly laid out here.

You’d spent that night going over everything and you’d actually started to feel hopeful about it. Peter was a way better teacher than Professor Hall, and it didn’t hurt that he was so cute. He was understanding with everything and was willing to go over any part for as long as it took for you to fully grasp it.

At the end of the night, he’d undone the wrappings around your hand, reapplied the cream for you, and wrapped it up again.

“It’s doing okay,” he reassured you. “Like I said, it’s gonna take a while, but if it starts hurting or anything, take some medicine. Then find me.”

You were sure you’d just melted into his hands at that moment.

The next day, you couldn’t wait to get through everything and see him again, even if you were going to be talking about chemistry.

You weren’t scheduled to work at the cafe today, so you’d only get to meet up after both of your classes.

Lectures were a blur, nothing really catching your attention and you spent most of the time with your phone tucked in your hand texting back and forth with Peter, barely concealing your laughter when he sent you memes.

It was like that all day, until, finally, you made your way over to his small apartment he shared with one of his friends.

its very quaint 🤌

(totally NOT what we say to make ourselves feel better about this shoebox)

He’d told you over text, making you laugh out loud as you made your way over there.

dw🫡 I was one of those kids who used to live in their play tents and hid in random corners and spaces

im totally ready for this

ok but be warned, we do not have a pet!!! they are not allowed per our lease!!! ignore the cat when you come in!!! tell no one!!!

what cat ??

good girl ;)

Your face flushed as you made your way up the steps to his door. You knocked three times and barely had to wait a second before Peter stood before you, holding the door open.

“Hi,” he said, smiling at you.

“Hi,” you grinned back. You heard a small ‘meow’ come from behind him and he quickly held up a finger to his lips. You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh as you nodded at him.

“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way to lead you through the door. You stepped in and kicked off your shoes before looking around. It was plain, but that was to be expected really.

There was a large poster hanging next to their TV, however, that caught your eye. “Big fan?” You asked him, shoving your thumb in the direction of the Star Wars poster.

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Kind of.”

“Oh. Well, I was just asking because I love those movies. My little brother used to watch them and I got really into it.”

“Oh. I mean—I don’t know what I was saying before I love them too.” He rushed out, making you giggle.

He stayed staring at you for a bit, his eyes rounding out and his mouth gaping a little bit.

You gave him a small smile, “Okay, well we should-” You let out a small yelp, hands flying to your mouth as you jumped back.

The living room was small. The only things occupying it were the TV mounted to the wall, and in front of it, was a sofa. And on the sofa, was an unconscious body that you hadn’t noticed until it let out a low groan. You really weren’t sure how you missed it, there wasn’t much else to look at, but they had just been so still.

Heart beating erratically, you turned towards Peter again, who was looking at you with all the amusement in the world written all over his face. “Was he always there,” you whispered, eyes wide.

He opened his arms, “Well, angel, I really don’t know. Did you see anyone come in?”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled. “He looks familiar…is that..”

“Freddy.” He finished for you. Right. The dude from the cafe.

“He crashes here sometimes.” He added.

You nodded. “Alright.”

“Shall we?” He opened a door beside him and looked at you.

“Right. Yeah, of course.” You walked past him and into his room. You stopped after you entered, taking a moment to look around. His room was simple, with just his bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser perched next to another door you assumed was his closet.

What really caught your attention, however, were the photos scattered all over the walls. The room was practically engulfed in Peter Parker’s memories, and you really liked it. Without thinking, you approached one wall, walking through them and taking each one in.

There were some with large groups of people, those looked like school trips. Most of the photos were of the same two people, and based on what he’d told you, you assumed those were his friends. Ned and MJ.

A lot of the photos contained an older woman, who looked stunning. That had to be his Aunt May. You were shocked by how many photos he had with the Tony Stark. He’d told you he had an internship at Stark Industries, but really, you sorta thought he just went on coffee runs all day.

And then, you saw a couple shots of Spider-Man. It wasn’t unusual, you knew a lot of people snapped photos of the masked hero when they spotted him around the city. What was unusual, was the quality of the photos. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen such clear photos of him, even on the news, as he was always swinging and in motion. In these, Peter seemed to have caught him at just the right time. You wondered how long it took him to capture the photos.

“Big fan?” You smirked over at him from your spot by one of the Spider-Man photos as you repeated your words from earlier.

Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, content with watching go over the details of his life. He felt a little naked, like he was bared out in front of you. But…it felt good too. He liked knowing you were learning new things about him, and curious to know more. It filled him with an anxious sort of giddiness.

“You first,” he said slyly.

Laughing, you said, “Well, I don’t see how anyone can hate on the guy. He literally runs around saving lives”

He laughed as he approached you, standing by your side. You’d be surprised. “True I guess.”

“We should get to studying,” you said, breezing past him, your hand brushing his bicep as you did. He sucked in a breath, his entire body feeling electrocuted after that one touch. He wondered how you seemed so normal, laying out your books and papers on the floor beside his bed.

This was gonna be a long night.

He cleared his throat and moved to sit across from you, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt.

After a few moments of him watching you get settled, you heard him start laughing. Looking up you asked, “What’s so funny?”

That only made him laugh harder. “Just thinking about how scared you got before. Did you really not see him?”

You felt your face go hot. “I didn’t! I had no clue he was there, and next thing I know he’s making lawn mower nosies!”

Peter was red in the face now. “The way you flew back,” he said between fits of laughter, “I thought you’d give yourself whiplash.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled at him, picking up one of your pens and throwing it at him. It bounced off without him even flinching.

You looked down, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with your papers.

“Okay I’m ready to be serious now,” he said. The laughter was gone but amusement twinkled in his voice.

“Great! Welcome back Pete, now hand me that pen, I’m gonna need it.”

Two hours later, you were both sprawled across the floor tossing Chess-Its at one another.

“Come on!” You threw your arms up in defeat when you threw another cracker at him just for him to catch it again.

Peter chuckled, “Sorry angel, I’ve just got killer reflexes.”

“Alright whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, throw some at me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to finally win one round of this nonsense…just for a Cheez-It to hit your cheek and fall to the ground with the rest of your tries.

Peter laughed while you sat up, reached to grab the box of crackers, and poured some into your hand before putting it back down.

“Okay, I’m done. I actually want to eat them now.” You said, munching on a cracker and sitting against the side of his bed.

“Oh come on, don’t be a quitter Y/N/N,” he grinned, leaning over and pinching your cheek.

You swatted his hand away with your empty one. “M’not.”

He smiled at you before sitting up. “Hit me,” he said, opening his mouth and pointing at it.

You grabbed a Cheez-It from the palm of your hand and made a big show of trying to get your aim right. Squinting one eye, you stared at him, moving your hand back and forth before tossing it slightly more to the right. On purpose.

That didn’t stop him from leaning over and catching it in his mouth.

“I don’t like this game,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you did,” he said back, munching on his Cheez-it.

“Sue me,” you told him, brushing him off with a wave of your hand.

He laughed before he settled down. “How’s your hand feeling by the way.” His voice was considerably softer now, making you smile softly at him.

“It’s doing great, thank you again, Peter. I would’ve been totally fucked if it weren’t for you,” you told him honestly.

He shook his head, “Don’t thank me at all Y/N. Hate seeing you hurt,” he mumbled, less to you and more to himself and he stayed staring at your wrapped-up hand.

“Well don’t worry about that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you suddenly, like he needed to know you meant it.

“Yeah,” you nodded at him.

“That’s good,” he breathed out and your heart squeezed at how much he seemed to care.

“What's your plan? Y’know, for after school?” You didn’t want to leave just yet, even with your studying done. And you wanted to know more about him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken a certain liking to him lately.

“Well after I get my degree, I’m going move up a little further in Stark Industries. I’m still undecided on grad school, I think I’ve got everything I need and I’m probably just gonna start saving up to pay off student loans instead of adding on them.”

You nodded at him, “So the Stark internship is going well? No offense, I sort of thought you were their coffee mule.” You grinned at him before popping a Cheez-It in your mouth.

He scoffed, “No, I’m not. I mean, it did take a while to get them to take me seriously, but I got there!”

You laughed, “Well, very proud of you Pete. That’s super impressive.”

He grinned at you, his face heating up at your words. He wondered if you knew how much it affected him every time you called him Pete. Probably not, but he never wanted you to stop.

You two stayed like that for another hour or so, time passing by without you noticing at all. You talked about your futures, where you say yourselves after school, and after that. Your admiration for him only grew as you got to know him more. You could talk to him all night and never get bored honestly, you-

Shit.

A random notification lit up your phone, which lay beside you on the floor, making you take notice of the time.

You sat up quickly, spitting out curses as you started gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag.

Peter sat up as well, helping you get your things together but in a calmer manner than yourself.

“Relax Y/N,” he said in a soothing voice.

“Pete I can’t do it.” You turned to him suddenly, dropping everything in your hands.

“Do what, angel?”

“The exam is tomorrow. I’m not ready! I’m gonna fail, and that one grade, that one stupid grade, is gonna hold me back and ruin everything-”

“Sweetheart look at me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip was warm and reassuring. “You are not going to fail. And I know this because I’ve spent the last few hours studying with you, and I saw how smart you are, and how quick you caught on. You’re gonna walk in there tomorrow and ace that test, I know you are!

“And if for some reason you don’t,” he continued, “you gave it your best. You tried your hardest and you learned something, which is all that matters in the end. So breathe, stop stressing, and let me walk you home.”

“All that talk as an excuse to ask to take me home?” You snorted, “Peter you shouldn’t have.” Despite your jokes, you took his advice and took a deep breath. He was right, you’d studied your hardest, both with and without his help. All you could do was take the exam and hope for the best now.

He laughed and stood up, holding out a hand once he saw you all packed and ready. “Caught me. So is that a yes?”

You took his hand and pulled yourself up but didn’t let go right away. “If I fail, do we have to stop hanging out? Y’know, with you being a science prodigy and all.”

He laughed again and placed both his hands on your shoulder, staring straight into your eyes. “Never.”

“Ok, well, just making sure. I wouldn’t wanna give you a bad rep in the science community or something-”

You were suddenly cut off from your babbling when he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second, unsure what to do, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up and kiss him back.

He pulled away after a few moments, “Done with the jokes?” His voice was soft and teasing.

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. “But I think you might need to do that again, just to be sure.”

He chuckled murmuring something that sounded like ‘too cute’ but you couldn’t be bothered to hear when you felt his lips on yours again, this time, expecting them.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and canting your head slightly for better access. He groaned, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other settling on your waist.

You might have pictured kissing him before, just maybe. But none of your daydreaming could’ve prepared you for the real thing. The way his bottom lip covered your top one, the soft breaths exchanged between the two of you, the way he pressed himself further into you when you tugged his hair a little harder. This definitely beat all of your daydreams.

You could’ve stayed that way forever, and you probably would’ve if Peter hadn’t taken one for the team and pulled away first.

Or tried to, at least.

“We should-” kiss.

“You-” kiss.

“I need to walk,” kiss, “-you home angel.” He murmured against your lips.

“Okay,” you whispered back but you didn’t move to pull away, and he didn’t push you. The two of you stayed stuck, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, taking in the atmosphere of each other.

“I should probably go now,” you said softly. Peter hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck your lips gently.

“It’s getting late,” but your voice is more of a sigh. You don’t know what he’s laced his lips with but each kiss makes you weak in the knees and woozier than the last one.

“God, d’yknow I’ve had the biggest crush on you.” He said, completely disregarding your previous statement.

That stops you. “What?” You asked him in disbelief. Peter had a crush on you? No way, you would’ve known.

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “don’t act so shocked. I was always a stuttering mess at work whenever you so much as looked at me.”

True. But you’d just thought he was a bit more on the shy side.

“I’d seen you around campus before and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I still do, but I thought I had no shot in hell with you. And when I got the job at the cafe and saw I’d be working with you? I almost lost my fucking mind sweetheart.” You both laughed a little and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flamed up because of his words. Did he have any clue what he was doing to you right now?

“So I just sorta kept my distance, y’know? Admired you from afar ‘cause I was too scared you’d reject me. Sadly, it only took you nearly burning your hand off,” he gave you a look and you burst into giggles, him doing you and slightly pinching your waist, “for me to get over myself and actually keep up a conversation with you. But now I’ve got you in my room, kissing me.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “lucky you.” You joked as leaned in to press another kiss to his lips.

“Lucky me indeed,” he murmured before pulling you in even deeper. He dipped you, making you squeal into the kiss. Then he pulled you up, unable to keep the kiss going any longer with how hard he was grinning.

“Oh my god,” you said, laughing breathlessly.

“A lot more where that came from,” he smirked at you.

“You know,” you moved to pick up your bag, “for someone who was so scared to talk to me for so long, you sure found the confidence now.”

“What can I say? You make it easy. Once I started I couldn’t stop.” You smiled at him as he gently placed a hand on your arm leading you to the door. The living room was empty now, no one to be found on the couch or otherwise and you wondered where their cat had wandered off to.

You bent over to put on your shoes, Peter doing the same. He stepped forward and opened the door for you, letting you step out before following you and locking the door.

As soon as he was done with that, you reached over and grabbed his hand. “Hey Petey?” You said lightly. Oh, he was going to melt. From now on, he only wanted you to call him that.

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah? Me too angel.”

The next morning, you awoke in the brightest mood, considering you had a chemistry exam later that day. All you could think about was Peter. You were going to see him later at the cafe and you couldn’t wait.

You leaned over in bed to pick up your phone. Speak of the devil.

GOOD MORNINGGGGG❤️

hope you slept well angel, can’t wait to see you today. and you’re gonna totally ace that exam!🥰

seriously you’re going to kick chemistry’s butt

A huge smile bloomed on your face, almost hurting from how wide it was. Usually, you'd stay in bed for a while, scrolling through Instagram or just going through messages or something. Not today, you couldn’t wait to get to work. Maybe Peter was a good influence on you.

After getting ready for the day, you made your way to the cafe with a little bounce in your steps. The bell jingled above you as you opened the door and for the first time since you’d started working together, Peter was here before you.

“Hey,” he smiled, holding up your usual drink order and waving it at you.

“Hi Pete,” you approached his, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. As you pulled away, you could see how quickly his cheeks pinked, making you grin.

“No ‘Petey’?”

“Didn’t know you had a preference,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards you as you took a sip from the drink and then moved to get dressed for your shift.

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, wishing he could feel your hand on his for just a little longer, “neither did I.”

You laughed lightly as you tied your apron, the sound hitting him like the greatest melody in the world.

“Okay then,” you walked towards him, stopping right in front of him, “let’s start over. Hi Petey.”

“Hi angel,” he gave you a dopey grin and you returned it.

“Great, now that we’ve got that figured out.” You patted his chest lightly before taking the drink from his hands and moving away.

“Hey wait! Where’s my kiss?” He pouted at you and he looked so adorable, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him till he begged you to stop.

“We’re at work, we’ve gotta be professional.” You said matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms. “Professional my ass, no one is even in here-,”

Before he could even close his mouth, the bell jingled, and in stepped a boy about your age. The boy moved to one of the chairs, not moving to order just yet, giving you the chance to smirk at Peter, who just rolled his eyes again.

“What do you he’s gonna order,” he asked you.

“Hmm…a cookie, probably.” You moved lean against the counter across from him and took a sip of your drink as you smiled.

“Hey wait, you never told me what your drink order is.”

“Hmm…” he hummed in consideration before he moved towards you, grabbing your hand with the drink and bringing it up to his lips to steal a sip, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“I’ve got to say,” he said in a low voice, “this one has really grown on me.”

You couldn’t look away, all you could do was stare. And stare, and stare, and stare…

A stranger’s voice, and then, “Hey, can I get one of those double chocolate chip cookies?”

You were just on cloud nine today.

You had taken your exam and for the first time ever in that class, you had felt confident in your work.

And to top it all off, after you’d handed in your paper and packed your things to leave, Professor Hall had given you a ‘well done’ nod. You! He’d never noticed you positively before. You were going to need to drown Peter in thank-you kisses for his help.

Speaking of Peter, you couldn’t wait to see him. He told you he’d be waiting for you after your class but when you stepped outside, there was no sign of him. You decided to sit on the building steps and wait. He was probably just running a little late, no biggie.

Big biggie. After 40 minutes of waiting for him, during which you’d sent him a little text and he hadn’t responded, you decided to head over to his place.

The walk was short and your little buzz had worn off after not getting to share it with Peter. After all, you kind of owed him most of the credit. You arrived at his apartment door, and when you knocked, it wasn't Peter who answered.

It's Freddy.

You throw on a smile. “Hi Freddy, is Peter home?”

He returned your smile as he said, “‘Sup Y/N.” He held out his fist and you stared at it for a while before you got the hint and bumped it with your own. “Pete’s not home right now, but you can totally come in and wait for him.”

You found it funny that someone who didn’t live there was inviting you in to stay, but you accepted anyway. You also had no clue how he knew your name.

You knew little about Freddy, but you knew he was sort of a campus celebrity. Every raging party there was, everyone knew Freddy was behind it.

“So,” you said as you walked in, “what year are you in Freddy?”

“Ah nah, I’m done with that shit. I took the bar,” he said casually, waving a hand and moving to sit on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the large Amazon box being used as a coffee table and picked up the open beer sitting atop it.

You stood in your place, clutching your bag. He was in grad school?

“Oh that’s awesome dude, did you not pass or something.”

“Uh uh,” he shook his head, taking a swig of beer, “got a 350.”

Your eyes widened. What. You didn’t know much about law school but you knew getting a score like that on the bar was not an easy thing.

“Wait when’d you take it?” You asked confused. The bar exam wasn’t scheduled for a few months from now.

“Last year.”

“Do you like…work at a firm or something?” It was insane to you that the party animal of this school had already graduated, and with an amazing score nonetheless.

He shook his head, “Workin' on my music right now, and if that doesn’t work out,” he gave you a wicked grin, “well I’ve always got my law degree.”

You nodded, stunned. “That’s sick dude. Good luck,” you told him, waving as you moved to wait in Peter’s room.

“Keep the door cracked kids,” he shouted towards you and you huffed a laugh as you entered the room and closed the door (leaving it open just an inch) before you sat at the foot of his bed.

You looked around for a second, taking it all in. It’s amazing how he managed to take this small space and make it so him.

After a few moments, you took out your phone to shoot him another text.

But before you could finish typing it out, the window beside you started opening and you watched as the Spider-Man fell onto the bed, not noticing you gaping right next to him.

You stayed silent, unsure of what to do or say until he moved to take his mask off. That got you moving and talking.

“Holy fuck!” You basically shout, moving away, hands flying to your mouth.

He seemed to be just as shocked as you were because he scrambled up from his lying position. And staring back at you was Peter Parker.

“What are you doing here?” He asked you, eyes wide. It wasn’t till then that you noticed the paleness of his features, his face lacking that usually healthy glow it held, the waver in his voice, and the hand clutching his bloody side.

“Holy fuck,” you repeated, voice lower, and for a whole different reason this time. “Shit Peter, you’re hurt.” You moved closer to him, temporarily forgetting everything else as your hand reached to gently remove his so you could take in the extent of his injuries.

“It’s nothing,” he said but made no move to shove you away or stop you. You moved his hand and winced at the sight that greeted you, “Looks like a whole lot more than nothing babe.”

“I’ve had worse.”

You look up at him, frowning slightly, “Not exactly reassuring Petey.”

“I feel all better now,” he said, shooting you a charming grin as soon as he heard the nickname leave your mouth. “Add a kiss in the mix, and I’ll be good as new.”

You huffed a laugh, shoving his knee slightly, “Shut up Peter. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ve got some experience with stuff like this,” you wave a hand towards his suit and injury for emphasis and he gives you a quick nod.

“Over there,” he pointed toward his dresser, “top shelf, under the blue sweater.”

You rushed over there, opening the drawer and spotting the sweater he mentioned. “I’m totally stealing that from you someday, this is your heads up,” you told him as you grabbed the large box and completely closed the door before you moved back to his side.

“You can have anything of mine, Angel. I’m sure you’d look better in it anyway.” His words made you blush, but you tried to ignore them so you could focus on the task at hand.

Peter, however, found that he really liked watching your cheeks pink up. And he wanted more.

“Lean against the headboard, now.” You said, trying to be serious again.

“God, at least buy me dinner first sweetheart.” He gave you the dorkiest smirk you’d ever seen. You just glared at him. “On the other hand,” he said as he moved backward to lean against his headboard, “I don’t need dinner, I’m all yours baby girl.”

This got you to laugh, “Peter, be serious! You’re bleeding out!” You moved to his side, “take this off by the way.” You gestured to his suit.

He hit the middle emblem of a spider and you watched as it loosened up and fell off his shoulders. You had started pulling it the rest of the way down, gulping when you realized he wasn’t wearing anything else, when he mumbled, “Not a terrible way to go.”

You refused to look up and meet his eyes but he knew he got you. Thank god he was wearing underwear, you realized, and you threw the suit to the side after you’d completely shredded him of it. He was definitely going to need a new one.

Now completely facing the damage, your stomach churned, and you were hit with the hard truth. “I…I don’t know what to do,” you whispered to him. You wanted to help him, more than anything. This man who’s been risking his life, probably since he was a teenager you realized, as you did the math silently in your head, was hurt and right in front of you, needing your help. And you needed to help him, but you didn’t know the first thing about how to approach a situation like this. You were surprised you could stare at the wound for so long.

“Don’t worry, I can do it,” he said gently, his bloody hand reaching for the huge first aid kit.

“No!” You rushed out, grabbing his hand to stop him, “No way am I letting you do that! Just…just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.

Feeling more confident, you grabbed the kit and opened it. Shock coursed you as you realized just how much he went through and your confidence fell right back down where it sprouted from. The bag was full of all the medical tools and supplies you could think of, most of them completely foreign to you, and you realized how privileged you must be to not recognize any of these things. You can’t imagine the ‘worse’ he talked about having earlier. This must be those accidents he was talking about.

“I don’t usually have to use them,” his voice was soft, almost like he was reassuring you, “usually just water and a towel does the trick. Maybe a little numbing cream. And these,” he looked down at his wounds, “some bandages, sure, but I won’t need stitches or anything.”

You let out a breath of relief, you weren’t sure you could’ve handled that. You didn’t trust yourself.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing some wipes. You were going to do this. Based on what he’d told you, he was always stitching himself back up, just to hit the streets again the next day. This time, though, was different. This time you were here to help him, and you weren’t going chicken out of this. Even a little help was better than nothing at all.

You started slowly, cleaning around his wounds so you could bandage them properly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked you gently. “I totally understand if you need me to do it, angel, it’s a lot if you’re not used to it.”

“No,” you shook your head, your voice steady, “No way. It’s my turn to fix you up.” You told him, looking up to meet his eyes and smiling at him.

He returned it and you went back to work.

“So….Spider-Man, huh?” You peeked up quickly in question.

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a long story. Basically, I was bit by some spider, that shit was powerful,” you laughed a little, making him smile. “And I got some. Of its powers I mean.”

“So you get bit by a spider, that spider gives you powers, and you decide to become a New York vigilante?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he nodded, and you laughed again.

“You’re a hell of a guy Peter Parker.” You said, shaking your head slightly.

“Thank you, I try,” he smirked at you and you laughed again.

“Okay,” you said, pulling away from his side. He almost whined in protest. Honestly, he wasn’t feeling any pain, not since you’d started worrying about him, and insisting you help him. Peter wasn’t used to that, he was always alone when it came to this part of the job. He’d never minded that before, just one of the things he had to deal with as a superhero, but now that someone else was taking care of him…it felt nice. Really nice. Especially when it was you.

“Peter?” You looked at him questioningly. Shit. You’d asked him something.

“Huh? I'm sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with wide eyes. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the feeling of being taken care of, not that anyone could blame him though, the girl he’d been crushing on forever was here, in his room, helping bandage him up! It's more than he could’ve dreamed of.

“It’s okay sweetie,” you said, waving him off assuming he was in pain or something. Really, now he had something new to obsess over. Sweetie? While he was practically naked (albeit injured, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now) in bed with you? God, he could just melt.

“I was just wondering which bandages,” you said, holding up the different ones you’d found in his bag.

“Oh,” he said lamely, “these ones.” He grabbed a few from you and opened them.

“Look,” he said, leaning over himself to see his wounds properly, “you’ve got to bring together both sides of the wound, then secure the bandage so that it’s holding it closed.” He talked as he placed the first bandage with you watching and listening with intent.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” you said as you took the rest of the bandages from him. You steadied yourself, straddling his thigh as you started placing the bandages down his wound. The biggest gash took about five, your elbow resting on his abdomen as you got lower…and lower.

Conveniently, you missed the quiver in his breath, too focused on the work at hand, but you didn’t miss the small gasp he let out when your forearm reached right between his thighs.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you pulled away quickly, thinking you’d hurt him. “Did I pinch too hard?”

“No, no angel, you’re fine. Doing a great job actually.” He replied, trying to collect himself. He could not let himself think of that right now. There were more important things at hand.

“You sure?” You asked him, not looking convinced.

“Positive.” He replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back in (but making sure to keep you at a healthy distance from his dick).

You added a few more bandages, most of the cuts only needing one or two, before pulling away again to rummage through his bag. “What do you use on your bruises?”

“This one,” he said, leaning over you and grabbing a tube from the kit. You turned, your lips almost brushing over each other with how close you were.

“Hi,” you whispered, all thoughts completely flying out of your head as you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him.

“Hi angel,” he said smiling softly at you.

Seeing you debate it in your head, Peter decided it would be easier for the both of you if he did it first. Leaning in, he closed the distance and smoothly took your lips in his. You melted into the kiss right away, feeling like you’d been craving this your whole life when really, you’d just kissed his a few hours ago before you’d left work.

Your hands were on his bare chest, you could feel every muscle, every move when-

“Wait, you’re hurt!” You pulled away, leaving a pouting Peter in your wake.

“My lips work just fine angel,” he said, trying to steal another kiss while you tried to avoid him.

“But..let me finish at least,” you mumbled against his lips, barely getting a chance to pull away after he’d caught you.

“You can finish, just lemme do this first,” he responded before kissing you again.

“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips.

He hummed in response, moving to kiss your cheek, your jawline. If he kept this up you might not try to stop him.

“Did you know Freddy took the bar exam? And passed?”

That got him to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you confusedly, “I’m kissing you and you decide this a good time to bring up Freddy?”

“Well, y’know,” you shrugged, “figured it was as good a time as any.”

He scoffed, “Unbelievable.”

You giggled, “I win.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away before he could catch you and turn it into more.

“Now lay down, lemme do this,” you said waving the cream at him.

He moved grumpily and you thought grumpy Peter was the cutest thing ever. The furrow of his brows, the slight pout of his lips. You could just kiss him. And you would’ve if you hadn’t known where it would lead you.

You unscrewed the cap to the cream and started applying it gently. “So Fred’s a lawyer huh?” Peter spoke up.

“He is!” You whispered excitedly, glad he was just as shocked as you were.

“And you learned this how?” He asked, giving you a look.

You shrugged. “He let me in and I talked to him, asked him a few questions to get to know him better since I see him everywhere.”

“Wait, he’s here right now?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, “I thought you knew?”

“No I didn’t-,” he let out a sigh, “whatever it's basically his apartment too at this point I guess.”

You laughed, “And you’re okay with that?”

He shrugged with his good side. “He buys the good beer.”

You laughed again. “He scored a 350 on the bar exam!”

Peter’s brows shot up. “Oh shit.”

“I know! The only thing I knew about him was that he blacked out in that frat house’s pool all night and the cops were called cause someone thought he was dead.”

“Yeah, he’s super lucky he was on his back. Just floated around the pool like a leaf.”

You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the tube of cream, “Crazy. But anyway, I’m done. And on the plus side,” you grinned at him, “if you ever get in legal trouble, you know someone!”

He laughed out loud, and you watched as his face scrunched up and he clutched his side in pain. Apologizing for the joke, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to make up for it.

“Enough about crazy Freddy,” he let out a sigh, “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, and then I wanna cuddle with my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile as he stood up, giving you a kiss on the side of your head before he moved to pick out some clothes.

You watched him get dressed, biting your lip as you watched how his muscles rippled with each of his movements. You always knew he was strong but seeing him like that, was a completely different story.

“Like what you see?” He asked, smirking at you before he lifted his shirt, holding it up between his teeth as he tied his sweatpants.

Your mouth fell open. And being caught and also at…how absolutely hot he looked right now. If he wasn’t injured, you would be all. over. him.

“S’alright angel,” he said as he stalked towards you. He was enjoying this, a lot. “I’m sure I’d be the same if the roles were reversed.”

That did not help. Now you were thinking about being naked in front of Peter and-

He laughed, kissed the side of your head again, and laid down, pulling next to him.

“Careful Peter, you’re still hurt!” You chastised him.

He shook his head, “You made me feel a hundred times better. Thank you, angel.”

“Of course Petey.” He smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight.

“So, you came to see me right? Y’know, before the whole finding out I’m Spider-Man thing. What’s up?”

“Oh I almost forgot,” you perked up, tilting your head up so you could see his face, “I think I totally aced that chemistry exam!”

“Angel! I’m so proud of you!” He started attacking you with kisses, kissing you anywhere his lips could reach.

You giggled, “Thank you sweetie, but seriously I owe you most of the credit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, “that was all you. I barely helped, you learned everything and then took that quiz, and aced it.”

“Well I haven’t gotten my grade back yet, I just have a really good feeling, so don’t sound too are there's a chance I didn’t do as well as I thought.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have a sense, a spidey sense. And my spidey sense is telling me that you totally aced that thing. No questions asked.”

You laughed loudly. “Spidey sense?”

“No questions,” he repeated as he nuzzled his nose into your hair.

“Fine then,” you snuggled up further into him. “No questions.”

116 notes · View notes

oatmilk-vampire · 2 days

Text

steddie suspense for my lovelies <3 tw: panic attack, mention of death // ~700 words

Steve feels the exact moment the blood drains from his face.

Of course his mind would find a way to ruin this, using an innocent conversation between the two of them against him to prove he will never be okay.

“Did you give ‘em hell, baby?” Eddie had asked with a crooked grin when Steve was talking about the unruly customers he had to deal with earlier.

He bites his cheek hard as the lights flicker and dim around him, as the four walls of his room shift into the cruel expanse of the Upside Down.

He wants to run. He doesn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

“No.” He breaths out, voice just as shaky as his limbs.

“No? That’s okay. Maybe next time.” Eddie shrugs, as if Steve wasn’t struggling to breath.

He has to get away.

“Steve, where are you going?”

Why is he so cold? My God, he’s freezing.

“I gotta go. I gotta go. I can’t be here.”

“Steve, wait!”

He’s using that voice again, the one from earlier that makes Steve squirm. He doesn’t know why, though. Not yet. All he knows is it’s too much. His chest physically aches at the intensity of emotion.

Steve starts breathing fast and shallow.

It’s too much. He’s too cold, and he can’t breathe, dry ice invades his lungs.

The room starts to close in on him. His heartbeat races so fast he’s scared he may die, thinks maybe he already has. His breaths turn ragged as he tries desperately not to suffocate. He doesn’t know how to make it stop. He can’t make it stop. All he can do is reach out for the man in front of him. All he can do is try to get away from him.

“Oh shit. Come on, Stevie. I’m sorry. I was teasing—I didn’t mean to—”

Whatever tone Eddie was using before is gone, instantly replaced by something closer to his normal voice, only maybe a little softer.

“Hey—hey it’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” He wraps his arms around Steve, dragging him down, down, down until he’s sitting. Pulled so close he’s practically in Eddie's lap.

Steve feels himself melt into Eddie’s touch, throwing his arms around his waist and gripping the fabric of his shirt in his fists. He buries his face against his chest as he continued struggling to breathe. Steve is horrified to realize it’s warm and sticky, slick with something he doesn’t want to look at. Can’t stand to see.

“Shhh It’s okay. I’ve got you Steve, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.” Eddie murmurs, cradling his head and petting his hair in soothing repetitive motions.

“Try to take some deep breaths, okay? You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”

Steve is still shaking in Eddie’s arms, and may or may not be making pitiful noises as he hyperventilates and cries, but he does try to slow his ragged breaths by matching them to the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest. Being held so tightly, and having the steady rhythms of Eddie’s heartbeat and breathing to focus on helps tremendously. It takes him a while to realize that was the whole point.

“I’ve got you, Steve. You’re doing so good. Keep taking deep breaths with me.”

Eddie’s voice is so gentle, so caring, and his exaggerated breaths are so soothing and easy to follow, Steve almost can’t remember why he’s so scared. Eddie’s here. Eddie’s here with him. Why did that feel so wrong?

It takes a few minutes, but eventually he stops shaking.

Eddie keeps comforting him, whispering soft praise against the top of Steve’s head.

“There you go. Deep breaths. You’re doing so good. Just stay with me. This will end, I promise.”

That’s when the dam breaks.

Steve lifts his head from Eddie’s chest, blinking away his tears.

“You’re not here, you’re not here. You’re not real.” Steve backs away, tries to shield himself, tries to get away.

Eddie follows after him, quick to pull him back into his arms in a tight embrace, preventing Steve from going anywhere.

“You’re okay, Stevie. You’re right here. I’m right here. It’s okay. Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real. Just me. Focus on me.”

“You?”

“Me.”

Steve shakes his head, a new sob rips through his constricting throat.

“No, Eddie. You’re dead. You died.”

Steve squeezes him tight, knows the moment he lets go reality will come back to him. The false memories and imaginary conversations his consciousness had conjured up will be revealed as exactly that: fake.

He’ll be all alone.

“You’re not real.”

#it's midnight here which means I'm droppin a new steddie thanggg #this came to me in a dream #spoilers incoming>>#is eddie dead? is steve? are they both trapped in the Upside Down? maybe Steve's just losing it #feel free to continue or just lmk what you think it means #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic

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raina-at · 2 days

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Secret

Bakers, again, and a very direct sequel to this ficlet from last year. It doesn't stand alone quite as well, but keep in mind that in this universe, John was working in an inner-city A+E during the worst of the pandemic, and I think the rest is self-explanatory. (It's also maybe a bit of hubris to explain the premise of this ficlet with a reference to another ficlet, and not the original story, but I'm sort of assuming if you know me it's probably for these two dorks, so here we are ;-))

-------------------

One of the things Sherlock loves most about John is that he’s the least sneaky person Sherlock knows. Every time John tries to keep a secret from Sherlock, he’s so transparent about it he might as well be wearing a neon sign.

The thing is, the absolute foundation of their relationship is trust. When Sherlock asked John for more, John took a gigantic leap of faith for Sherlock. John trusted Sherlock not to break his heart, and he trusted Sherlock to stay clean.

In return, Sherlock trusts John unconditionally. He can’t imagine John hurting him. It just wouldn’t happen. He trusted John every time he came home late from the hospital, and he trusted him every time he lost his temper and went out for a walk to cool off. He knows, for a stone cold fact, that John would never hurt him, never betray him. The one time Mycroft offered to have John surveilled, Sherlock laughed in his face and told his brother to grow the fuck up. Mycroft was noticeably taken aback by this, and asked how Sherlock could be so sure.

Sherlock still remembers this day, because he finally realised that in this one area of life, he knows so much more than his formerly all-knowing big brother. He looked long and hard at Mycroft and said, “That’s what trust is.”

Mycroft never mentioned the subject again.

So. Sherlock trusts John absolutely. That’s why Sherlock never tries to find out what secrets John is keeping, because they mostly turn out to be surprises for Sherlock. And Sherlock might be a certified arsehole—at least if you believe his YouTube comment section—but he’s not going to ruin the joy John takes in surprising him by calling him on the bad sneaking around.

All that having been said, this time, Sherlock is a tiny bit worried. Mostly because John seems to be. John is being incredibly obvious again, clicking away tabs and hiding things under pillows when Sherlock enters the room, having quiet phone conversations he takes to other rooms, even skiving off work one day, to apparently—judging from the dirt on his shoes and the rain on his jacket— traipsing around the countryside somewhere. Normally all this sneaking around would be accompanied by sly grins and sparkling eyes, but this time, he catches John looking at him worriedly. John’s also having trouble sleeping, and when he’s very tired he rubs his hand over the leg that bothers him every time he’s stressed.

Conclusion: Whatever John is doing, he’s worried about Sherlock’s reaction when he finds out.

Sherlock debates whether he should say something, but in the end he decides against it. Whatever John is up to, he’s apparently working his way up to telling Sherlock, and Sherlock will just have to be patient.

Not his best discipline, it has to be said. But since he can’t imagine anything he wouldn’t do for John if asked, and he can’t imagine John asking something of him he wouldn’t be willing to give, he says nothing, and waits.

Thankfully, John doesn’t keep him waiting for long.

It’s about a month after the whole sneaky business started. It’s Saturday and sunny outside when John asks, trying and failing to be casual, “Any plans for the day?”

Sherlock looks up from the accounts spreadsheets he was pretending to peruse and gives John a look over the rim of the glasses he reluctantly wears now. “Are you finally ready?” he asks, knowing John will understand.

John rubs a hand over his thigh, a classic nervous tell. “I think so. Yes.”

“Show me,” Sherlock says. “Show me now.”

*-*

The house is beautiful.

Sherlock stands outside in the generous garden and breathes in the smell of green and rain and the ocean.

The house is a quaint brick cottage, with a generous sitting room and library downstairs, and two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. It’s situated a five minutes’ walk from the train station. Trains go to London every half hour, transit takes forty-five minutes to Waterloo. The village is small but thriving. The sea is an easy five-minute walk away.

It’s idyllic. Peaceful.

And it has a tiny, dark, pokey kitchen. The oven is small and barely usable. There’s no room for his equipment, for his ingredients.

“Hey,” John’s arms come around him from behind.

Sherlock leans back into him and says nothing. He doesn’t want to disappoint John, but he can’t live here.

“Want to see the barn?” John asks, and there’s a great deal of amusement in his voice.

Before Sherlock can answer, John takes his hand and drags him to the barn. He opens the door and presents the inside to Sherlock with a knowing grin.

Sherlock gapes as he steps inside. The entire barn has been transformed into a professional kitchen. Ovens, walk-in fridge, gleaming work surfaces. Large windows let in a lot of natural light. Wooden countertops, lovely light fittings.

“The house belongs to the owner of the local bakery,” John says from behind him, watching with a fond smile as Sherlock runs his fingers over the gleaming surfaces, the shelves, the ovens. “She used the barn as a kitchen, since the bakery is so small. It’s pretty much just a storefront. If you want to, we can look at it later. It’s also for sale.”

Sherlock looks up from inspecting the oven. “Is it now.”

John swallows, looking nervous again. “Mike runs a primary care centre in Brighton. They have an opening. I could commute from London, of course, no problem, but I thought, maybe…” he trails off.

Sherlock looks around the kitchen. A purchase of this size would mean selling 221B as well as the bakery. He bought out Amit’s daughters when he died, so the property is his to do with as he pleases. It’s doable. Easily. It’s also a huge step he’s not in the least considered before.

But then his brain fully catches up to the implications of what John is saying. “You’re quitting,” he whispers. “You’re quitting the hospital.”

John looks down, a bit embarrassed, and shrugs. “Seemed like the thing to do.” He looks up at Sherlock again, who’s staring at him in shock. “You said I could do what I wanted, remember? Well, this is what I want. If you want it too, that is. I know it’s a lot to ask. Not trying to force you into—”

“Shut the fuck up right this second,” Sherlock breathes, then walks over and pulls John into a searing kiss. “Do you know,” Sherlock mutters between increasingly frantic kisses, “what I would do to get you out of that fucking hospital?”

John lets himself be kissed for a few moments, then draws back. “But your bakery—”

“I’m the bakery. I can bake anywhere. You know that the channel makes more money than the bakery does, anyway. I could close up today and be financially better off.”

“But you love it,” John whispers, running his thumb tenderly over Sherlock’s cheekbone. “This isn’t an either or, you know. I’m quitting either way. We can stay in London and I can commute.”

“And run yourself into the ground like you’ve done the last three years?” Sherlock shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s a lot to ask,” John says quietly.

“Listen to me,” Sherlock says, taking John’s face in his hands to ensure John is looking at him. He needs to make John see that this is the very definition of a no-brainer, and in fact one of the easiest decisions of Sherlock's life. “I love the bakery. And I love London, and 221B, but I love you so much more, it’s not even remotely a fair comparison. You’ve always supported me. I think now it’s my turn. Will you let me do this for you? Please?”

“Well,” John says softly, giving him a small smile. “If you insist.”

“I do,” Sherlock says, kissing John’s forehead gently. “Also, you found me a house with the most beautiful kitchen in the world, and if you think for one second that you’re getting out of this now, then you’re certifiably insane.”

John laughs and sags into Sherlock, obviously relieved. “I haven’t even gotten around to showing you the beehives,” he murmurs into Sherlock’s shirt.

Sherlock smiles into John’s hair. “When do we move in?”

-------

Tags under the cut as always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. Also, I hope it's not bothering anyone that I'm doing so many ficlets where you kind of need prior knowledge of some of my work. I'm always trying to make them as stand-alone-y as possible.

@dapetty @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @salmonsown @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #my fic #mayprompts2024 #may prompts 2024 #bakers with benefits #secret

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ioveaether · 2 days

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cw: gn!reader; reader has anger issues; char and reader are best friends, but is implied that they're crushing on each other

It wasn't the first time of you ending up in cries and hiccups, just because you got angry at someone. And definitely it won't be the last as well.

This time it was with your parents. You just wanted to have a normal conversation with them, but ended up getting way too emotional and walking away angry, with tears running down your cheeks.

"Why are you crying now? We didn't even say anything mean."

"We didn't mean to make you cry..."

It wasn't people's fault that you get angry so easily. You always try to control yourself, to explain to people what you mean, but always end up yelling in frustration and then regret it at the end. Sometimes this anger even comes out in tears, making people think that they made you cry...

You hated it. You hated yourself for that. You hated how you lose your temper so easily. You hated how some people even think that you're not trying to control yourself. You just hated it.

"Hey, is everything okay?" A familiar voice said from behind.

You froze in place, before you sniffed slightly and wiped away your tears. "I'm fine." You answered, still not turning to face your best friend.

"It doesn't sound like that." He said back, concern obvious in his voice. "What happened?"

You stood quiet, not even daring to utter a word out, thinking that it'll come out in a shaky voice. You were even trying to hold back your hiccups, but failing miserably.

"C'mon, at least let me see your face." He said in a calm tone, now slowly approaching your form, before he sat down next to you.

"Did you get into another fight with someone?" He asked softly, his eyes finally seeing how red your face was from all the crying. His heart basically shattered at the view in front of him.

"I didn't fight anyone." You answered back, sniffing slightly. "I just..." Tears threatened to come out again, but you quickly wiped them away. You took a deep breath, trying to calm down your nerves, before you spoke. "I just got angry at my parents again.... For nothing."

"I-i didn't want to get angry at them. I just... wanted to have a normal chat with them about something, a-and i don't know what happened-" And the hiccups came back, the tears already falling down your cheeks. "I-i got super emotional at some point. I got angry, i started crying from anger and just walked away, so i can calm my nerves down."

He listened to your shaky voice, his hand slowly reaching to hold yours, to comfort you in some way.

He knew how easily you lose your temper. And he knew how you always try to control yourself, even if sometimes it was just too much. He was proud of you for at least trying, and he always told you that he'll be there to help with whatever he can.

"I hate myself. I hate how easily i get angry at people. I want that anger to be gone in some way." You confessed, squeezing his hand tightly. "I don't want to make people think they're at fault for me losing my temper. Especially people i care about."

"I even think that some people hate me, because of-"

"Okay, i'll stop you right here." He said suddenly, cutting you off. You looked up at him with a confused look, waiting for him to continue.

"No one hates you, because of your short temper, that's just your negative thoughts getting to you. And if there are people who actually hate you because of that, well fuck them! They don't know what you're going though, just to throw disrespectful comments towards you." He said in a serious tone. His hand squeezed yours, as he continued. "And i'm sure you're trying your hardest to control yourself. I've seen you. How you always clench your fists, bite your lips, pick on your nails and so many other things, holding yourself back to not explode in frustration... And i'm proud of you."

He gave you a soft smile, his free hand coming and ruffling your hair.

"Hey!" You let out a small whine, and soon giggles came out of your mouth. "Thank you..." You smiled up at him, before you plopped your head against his shoulder. "It means a lot coming from you."

"Of course. And like i said before, i'm always here to help however i can." He answered, his arms wrapping around you in a soft embrace.

You wrapped your arms around his form, burying yourself closer in the warm hug. He always had such an effect on you. Making you smile and laugh in just mere seconds. You didn't know why he was the one to make you feel like that, but you hoped it'll stay like that forever. Him being your comfort person till the end.

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fairykazu · 11 hours

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the battle for the bill with gaming masterlist ++ cw: friends to lovers, pining, first date

it was his first ever date with you, at a dim sum restaurant that recently opened in liyue harbor. he spent like weeks just planning one date just because he was nervous on how you would react or reject him. he had to ask other people for opinions or eavesdrop on your conversations with your friends on what kind of guy you like.

but instead of spiraling even further, thankfully, he let his friends sway him to believe that you like him or believe the fact you like him back in a form of manifestation.

maybe it worked because you agreed to the date with no questions asked.

gaming was so chill about it and everything. he just casually mentioned that he finished his kung-fu practice and that he booked something, and it was an invitation only.

it was during the afternoon or rather, a couple hours until the reservation’s time was up. the day was windy but when he saw you, it gently danced around you and the leaves that were up in his face were just flying atop of your head, not even hitting you in the face.

(and mind you, this is not overly exaggerated… the source? gaming.)

“so, how did you accidentally book for two?” you asked as you stared into his brown eyes, making him nervous by the second.

“i was supposed to go with my uncle but since you're here with me, wanna come with?” gaming said with a wink. it was more like a nervous twitch than the flirty wink but hopefully you took it the other way.

you looked at him as if you thought he was lying. he swore he could feel himself getting more dizzy as his palms got more clammy. are hands supposed to be this sweaty? maybe the archons shouldn’t have given him a pyro vision because clearly, he’s meant for the hydro one. “sure. when is it?”

holy shit, he didn’t even think about it even working. he sputtered out, “it’s a date! i mean, date, six! i mean! ohmygod. new dim sum place at six, you're pretty. it’s a, uh, friend thing!”

you laughed in response. maybe you were tricking him into a prank where you totally accept and ditch last minute. or even, you were laughing at him not with him and you are planning to talk behind his back or something. he knows you wouldn’t have done that but the idea of rejection is catching up to him. “see you on the date, gaming.”

you walked off and the wind hit him in the face again. but it didn’t even bother him this time because oh my god, it worked. he meant, of course it worked! manifestation is real. “oh my god. thank you, morax, thank you all the archons for this luck. i thank you.” he got on his knees and started to cry. then he quickly got up because too many people were looking at him and he was getting a tad embarrassed at what he just did.

and of course, he had a plan:

step one: act like a gentleman, and you will instantly be swooned by his charms. (plan created by liyue squad . . . call 555-LUV-CUPIDS for advice on looove! ).

he really tried but you managed to be one step ahead of him. he picked you up in a kar, a new invention from fontaine that just dropped in liyue. he quickly opened his door, sliding across the bonnet of the kar, an audible squeak was heard from the inside of the car.

you watched him roll off the car, he brushed off the dust off his clothes just before he opened your door, his hair, once slicked back, was back to his normal fluffiness. “for you, my lady.” he said, in a formal tone. he tried to practice a fontainian accent but it did not go as well as he thought he did. xinyan pointed out he sounded more mondstadtian-ist-something than french.

you laughed, it was elegant and pretty and he swore his knees turned into jelly, he stiffly got up, teeter tottering away from the car. “ahem, shall we?” he extended his hand to you and you accepted it.

you were glowing. you looked stunning in your dress and maybe he says this a lot in his head. but if you were walking down the sidewalks, he would see you, get blinded by your beauty and crash his kar into a building. his cause of death? you but he’d be grateful because his last image before he died was seeing you.

“gaming, you ready?”

“born ready… i mean, of course, i am. c’mon lets go.” when he was about to open the door for you, you held it open, “shall we?”

“haha, we shall.”

the waiter welcomed ga-ming into the restaurant, escorting the both of you to your table.

you leaned into him, it was so close! did he appreciate it? yes, he really did. he liked the smell of your perfume. it was very jasmine like, floral and pretty. can you even smell the word, “pretty”? yes and it was you.

“gaming, i thought you said this was a new place and that you haven’t tried it yet?” you asked as he froze up. he had to be dragged by you to the table.

(note to past gaming, from future gaming: he didn’t say all that. YOU WERE LYING!!!)

“uh, surprise?”

he felt his time come, this is what he was made for. the gentleman, the best way to swoon someone by pulling their chair out for them. he was ready. he could feel the angelic spotlight shining on his shoulders as he reached for the chair. he remembered what he was supposed to say, “for you?” or “cmon sit down.” or… something like that.

shit, did he forget his training?

but you beat him to it, you pulled out a chair for him, tilting your head to him. instead of protesting, he sat down immediately. he didn’t put up a fight at all.

he cringed.

it was pitiful! he was like a dog!

he was so going to get you back for this.

totally.

(...not!)

step two: flirting !!!

gaming blinked at his friends who somehow pulled a blackboard from the closet. “what do you mean by, “flirt” with them?” he asked as xiangling pointed with a ruler,

“well, you know, just flirt with your natural charm.” the swordsman bursted out laughing, wiping a tear off his face. eyes still watery, xingqiu quipped back,

“if he had natural charm, you’d think he’d be with them by now.”

gaming scrunched up his face, burying his face into the pillows. muffled, “i do! i mean, i am going to charm them!”

xinyan sat next to him, he scooted more into the pillow. if he tried to scoot more, he’d roll into the cushion. “gaming, just serenade her.” she made a strumming motion as he sighed, “i don’t think i have that skill set.”

xiangling added, “don’t be a buzzkill, i see how they look at you, i think you’re fine.”

“if anything, just manifest it.”

gaming threw the pillow from his face, hitting xingqiu in the process, ignoring the blue haired guy storming to him with two pillows in both hands. “you’re right! i’ll manifest it.”

he tried his best to remember his lessons of how to know to flirt or whatever but he forgot already. he stammered, “so the weather am i right?” he wanted to kill himself. if he was able to clone himself, he’d kill the other in a heartbeat. he laughed nervously as you smiled,

“pretty cool. gaming, do you have any recommendations from this place? or does xiangling know you’re betraying her by going to this place?” you asked. it’s true, when xiangling was planning this date with the crew, she mourned the location of the date not being at wanmin restaurant.

“i like the xiao long bao with the pork but we can switch out the meat if you like or really, we could go the vegetable ones. yes, xiangling knows and she thinks i'm a traitor.” gaming said with a dejected sigh, making you giggle.

yes! side quest accomplished.

“that’s disappointing, gaming, why didn’t we go to wanmin restaurant?” you asked despite knowing the full reason why. everytime you encountered anyone from the liyue squad, there was always a kamera flash in the corner and somehow it’s always xingqiu. gaming nervously laughed, pulling his collar from his neck,

“well, you know how they are, i think, they’d fangirl or something.”

you laughed again and everyday he thanks the archons to let him live in this generation because then he could see you everyday. “like that group?”

gaming’s face dropped as you laughed a little harder, “sorry, sorry, i was just messing with you.”

the brunette laughed it off too despite his whole demeanor tensed up in fear, “gee, if you’re going to do that, give me a warning ahead of time.” he quickly grabbed the glass of water, sipping on the straw.

you tilted your head, “it wouldn’t be just as fun then, i like how cute your expressions are.” he started to choke midway drinking his water, you quickly rose out of your seat and patted him on the back.

he swallowed, “thank you?” he hoped his blush wasn’t noticeable. unfortunately it was, his blush spread to the tips of his ears.

“of course!”

gaming devised a new plan, he called it, screw the hundred step plan by the cupids. he will just go with the flow! well, actually, he’d go for step number ten: pay for the meal. after you two finished dinner, you were getting your wallet from your bag but gaming stopped you, “allow me.” he fished out his lion shaped pouch from his pockets.

“i’ll pay for the bill, gaming, it’s fine.” you insisted as he declined your offer. grabbing your bag and slinged around his body. “name, i took you out, it’s my treat. you can pay me back next time.”

“sorry but our schedules don’t always line up perfectly like this, gaming. you know this so you should just let me pay for our meals. it’s not much.”

“you shouldn’t go out of your way to pay for the meal! and look,” he gestured to your bag, wallet still in it. “you don’t have mora on you, so i’ll go pay.” he raised his hand up, getting the bill.

“i have a card.”

“name, really, i can pay. you can pay me next time, okay?” he tried to bargain with you but you kept going. luckily, he built over defense about paying the bill for years. “don’t play that game with me, gaming. it’s okay, i can pay.”

“oh my god, name, is that international pop idol, robin?” gaming shouted as you whipped your head around. “where!”

he quickly sneaked out of the table, tip toeing to the front. despite being out gentleman’d by his date, you have won the battle but he will win the war. until he saw a familiar figure in front of him, paying for the meal already, he dropped to his knees.

internally screaming no in his heart, a mighty soldier has fallen and it was him. the one who betrayed his love and out-gentleman's him, was you. he didn’t even know how you did it. are you secretly related to sonic the hedgehog?

he wouldn’t mind actually… that’s besides the point. how did you even… ? (he was actually tiptoeing and you just sped past him).

“gaming, c’mon, get up.” you said, lending a hand. nevermind, all is forgiven, he is holding your hand right now. thank you, gods, i have lived. one day i will live again when i meet them in every universe and slash or life. “i paid already.”

“how?”

“magicians don’t reveal their secrets.” you replied with a smile. just before gaming was going ask to elaborate, you quickly kissed his lips.

he melted into it, only standing still and shaking as he held up a thumbs up. "okay!"

#astronetwrk #gaming x reader #ga ming x reader #ga ming #ga-ming x reader #genshin fic #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin gaming x reader #genshin gaming #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fanfics #gender neutral reader #fluff #genshin impact fluff

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babygirl-diaz · 1 day

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Tattooed Golden Retriever

This is once again dedicated to @sarastars who gave me the idea for the fic.

Considering what's going on in the show right now, it kinda hurt writing this.

Summary: 5 Times Eddie scratches Buck's head and he falls asleep + 1 time he doesn't and Eddie kisses him.

***

i. Eddie was busy reading a spy novel on the couch when he felt something heavy on his lap. He looked down to see Buck smiling up at him.

"Uh... Hello?" Eddie chuckled, and his hand automatically moved into Buck's hair.

"Mmmm... Read to me," Buck mumbled and made himself comfortable, practically nuzzling Eddie's thigh like a cat, making him feel all sorts of things that he refused to acknowledge. "Also, give me head scratches."

"If I do that, you're gonna fall asleep, Buck, and Bobby will not be happy," Eddie told him but absentmindedly scratched his head.

"I don't care," Buck replied and made happy noises as Eddie continued to scratch his head. "Now read to meeeeee..." He whined and bumped his nose against Eddie's thigh.

Eddie sighed and started reading. "The rain slashed across the grimy windows of the safe house, mirroring the tension that thrummed through Anya Petrova's veins. She clutched the burner phone, its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from the freshly brewed cup of tea in her other hand. The voice on the other end of the line crackled with static, but Anya recognized it instantly. It was her handler-" Eddied stopped when he heard snoring and looked down to see that Buck had fallen asleep.

"He's like a goddamn puppy," Chimney commented as he sat down on the armchair with his bowl of fruit.

"More like a tattooed golden retriever," Eddie said fondly and smiled at a sleeping Buck as he continued to gently run his fingers through his curls.

"Mmmhmm..." Chimney hummed

Eddie looked up to find his coworker and friend giving him a knowing look before going back to his fruit bowl.

***

ii. It was the end of a very long shift and Eddie was getting ready to go home when Buck sat down beside him on the locker room bench with a heavy sigh. He put his head on Eddie's shoulder and let out another sigh. "'m tired," Buck complained.

Eddie lifted his hand to scratch Buck's head, who made a delighted sound.

"Yeah, I'm tired too," Eddie replied, yawning. "We all are. It was a long-ass shift."

Eddie kept scratching Buck's head and soon heard soft snoring. "Buck?" He called out but got no response in return.

"No," Eddie mumbled. He knew he wouldn't be able to move until Buck woke up. Because Eddie would rather die than wake him up. So he instead kept scratching his head and put his own head down on top of Buck's, closing his eyes.

***

iii. The next time it happened, they were at a BBQ at Bobby and Athena's place. Eddie sat on the floor talking to Karen and Hen while eating his lunch when he felt someone sit beside him. He looked over to find Buck smiling at him like a goof. "What?" He asked.

"I need head scratches," Buck replied like a little child.

Eddie blushed a little and looked at Hen and Karen to find them giving him an amused look.

Buck removed the empty plate from Eddie's lap and put it on the coffee table before putting his head down instead. "Head scratches! " He demanded.

Eddie rolled his eyes and started scratching Buck's head, letting his blunt fingernails move through the curls in slow motion.

He went back to talking to Hen and Karen like this was the most normal thing in the world. They looked a little confused before continuing the conversation.

Soon Buck fell asleep on Eddie's lap and Eddie gave him a fond glance.

"What?" He asked when he found Hen and Karen giving him a knowing look, similar to the one Chimney had given him a couple weeks ago.

"Nothing," Karen replied with a shrug. "You two are so comfortable with each other."

"We've been friends for 8 years," Eddie replied. He couldn't believe his own ears as he said that.

"You ever thought of having something more with him?"

Eddie was taken aback by Karen's question and saw Hen bumping her shoulder against her wife's, and shaking her head.

Eddie blushed once again and shook his head. "We're just meant to be friends."

"Of course," Karen replied with a smirk.

***

iv. During one of their calls, the 118 ended up saving a puppy that was only a few months old. The golden retriever was adorable, and Eddie loved dogs, so he took charge of the dog while they waited for her family to come and take her. She followed Eddie around everywhere and Eddie fed her food that Bobby made for her and also sneakily fed her some from his plate. After dinner, Sheena, as her name tag had suggested her name was decided she wanted to play. Eddie found a ball in the lost-and-found box and threw it for her, which she went and caught and brought back to him. Then she started giving him kisses, making him laugh and roll around on the floor of the fire station loft.

"Sheena, stop!" Eddie laughed and grabbed her face, giving her kisses in return.

She put her chin down on Eddie's knee when she finished playing and Eddie immediately knew what she wanted. He chuckled and started scratching her head and behind her ear. As he kept doing that, Sheena soon fell asleep with her chin on Eddie's lap.

Eddie heard someone clear their throat and looked up from the floor to see Buck pouting at him. "What's wrong?" Eddie asked worriedly.

"She's taking my place," Buck huffed and sat down beside Eddie.

"She's a three-month-old puppy, Buck," Eddie reminded him.

"I don't care. The head scratches are mine," Buck said possessively and lay down on the floor, putting his head on Eddie's other thigh.

"Buck, what are you doing?" Eddie laughed. "Come on, get up."

"Give me head scratches!" Buck demanded, like he always did.

"Buck, everyone is looking," Eddie told him but moved his other hand into Buck's hair, anyway.

"I don't care. No one is taking my head scratches away from me," Buck adamantly told him.

Eddie sighed and ran his fingers through Buck's scalp, scratching it gently.

Just as always, Buck was soon asleep.

"Eddie, the Smith family are he-" Bobby stopped mid-sentence and raised his eyebrows.

"Do you mind taking Sheena? I can't get up," Eddie told him.

Bobby sighed and nodded, "Okay." He went to pick up Sheena, who woke up and started squirming.

Eddie gave her a sad look and let her give him kisses again. He gave her kisses too and then watched sadly as Bobby carried her away.

***

v. Buck, Eddie, and Christopher were playing video games at Buck's loft with Eddie sitting in between Buck and Christopher. Buck and Eddie were playing against each other and Christopher was cheering them on, taking Buck's side this time. Eddie ended up winning and high-fived himself while Buck and Christopher booed him. But then Buck put his head on Eddie's shoulder and yawned. "Head scratches," he demanded as always.

Eddie snorted and shook his head. "Such a child," he teased and started scratching Buck's head at an awkward angle.

He looked at Christopher to find him giving them a confused look.

"It's a new thing with him, where he wants head scratches and then falls asleep," Eddie explained.

Christopher grinned and put his head down on Eddie's other shoulder. "Head scratches," he demanded as well.

To say that Eddie was surprised would be an understatement. He never expected his 16-year-old son to demand head scratches from him but he'd be damned if he denied the request. Some part of his brain said, "Like father, like son," but he ignored it.

Smiling widely, he started running his fingers through Christopher's curls as well.

Soon both Buck and Christopher were fast asleep while Eddie stayed wide awake between them, happily giving them head scratches.

***

i. Eddie was trying to finish the novel on his bed while Buck and Christopher played games in the living room. It was summer vacation so Eddie let Christopher stay up late, but in the end, it looked like it was Buck who was exhausted. These days, he slept in Eddie's room when he stayed over because something had shifted in their relationship. Eddie wasn't sure what though. So when Buck came into the room, Eddie looked up from his book and smiled. "You good?" He asked.

Buck fell face-first into Eddie's lap. "I'm tired," he mumbled.

"And you want head scratches?" Eddie asked, chuckling.

Buck turned around and put his head on Eddie's lap before nodding, "Love how you know me so well."

Eddie ran his fingers through Buck's hair and Buck yawned but smiled goofily up at Eddie instead of sleeping like usual. He looked so beautiful, so peaceful, though.

"C-can I kiss you?" The words were out of Eddie's mouth before he could stop himself and he nervously bit down on his bottom lip.

"Thought you'd never ask," Buck replied, smirking.

Eddie leaned down and captured Buck's lips in a gentle, chaste kiss.

When he pulled away, Buck looked at him with a pout. "What was that? I expected more from you!"

Buck sat up on his knees and pulled Eddie close, kissing him hard. Eddie let out a choked sound in the kiss, which Buck swallowed. In his two years dating men, Eddie had never been kissed like this.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 abc #911 fic #911 fanfic #5+1 things #fluff

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saintmeghanmarkle · 3 days

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Meghan Markle's ancestors owned slaves by u/PolishedWoodTable

First of all I have to clarify that I've never commented on here before, but I've been approved to post because of the research I have to share.

So it's been well established that Meghan Markle is descended from Captain Christopher Hussey through her dad's side (https://www.townandcountrymag.com/society/tradition/a13810014/prince-harry-meghan-markle-ancestor-execution-study/). Captain Christopher Hussey was a rich colonialist. I was talking about it to my mom and she wondered if they owned slaves, because most rich colonialists did.

Genealogy is my hobby and I decided to do some digging. Guess what? They did!

Here's a quick family tree to show you how these people relate to Meghan:

And now some info about her ancestors:

Establishing that Stephen is the son of Christopher Hussey (Source: Genealogical and Family History of the State of New Hampshire)

Stephen was a powerful man, huge landowner, slaveholder, and by most accounts an all-round-jerk.

Stephen probably got his slaves from the West Indies. (Source: A Branch of the Hussey Family in America)

Stephen was the biggest landowner of his day. (3 houses!! No wonder he wanted slaves...) (Source: Nantucket Lands and Land Owners)

And here's the part proving Stephen was a slaveholder:

Stephen Hussey's will, leaving his slaves like property to his family (Source: Quaint Nantucket)

I don't have any ultra strong feelings on Meghan but considering like everything that she and Harry have said and done this really shocked me. I know Stephen isn't her direct ancestor, but still ultra weird.

And that's not even the part that shocked me the most...Meghan's director ancestors sold their land to Stephen and so directly profited from his landholding, slaveholding empire. Like...what?? Here are the images:

This ones shows that Huldah Hussey, Meghan's direct ancestor, married John Smith (Source: History of the Town of Hampton of New Hampshire)

And here is John Smith, Huldah's husband, selling his land to Stephen Hussey... (Source: The Pioneers of Maine & New Hampshire)

Aaaaand her director ancestor Christopher Hussey did the same. (Source: Nantucket Lands and Landowners)

I found all this in local New England history books. I can upload all the books somewhere so people can read them for themselves, and on top of the link at the beginning of the post, I also have all the records showing that Meghan IS descended from Christopher Hussey, but there are so many records I'm not sure where to start...whatever anyone wants me to upload just ask.

So...the big question is, does Meghan know this? It seems like a really big deal to me considering the HUGE conversation that's surrounded Meghan's background since she joined the Royal Family.

EDIT to say 2 things:

1. I don't think that your ancestry should have any bearing on who you are and how you're judged. In any normal honest context, it shouldn't ever be considered relevant and every human being should be judged by who they are and what they do, not by what their ancestors did. I for one know that some of my ancestors had slaves. That doesn't make me a racist, and any implication that it did would be totally unfair.

And that's exactly why I created this post -- because that's exactly what Meghan did about the British nation. She has implied from the start that she was rejected by the British ppl -- not just the RF, but everyone -- because of her race. She crafted a narrative that said the British ppl weren't ready to accept a black princess because of post-colonial feeling. She branded an entire nation as being racist simply because of who their ancestors are.

So I created this post to show just how hypocritical that narrative is.

2. Thanks so much for all the compliments from everybody for the work I put into this post, it means a lot!

📌 post link

📌 Post archive link

📌Link to digital format files for referencing

author: PolishedWoodTable

submitted: May 10, 2024 at 12:41PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

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lisbeth-kk · 1 day

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May Prompts (12) family

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 12)

Summary: Rosie and her Nana are celebrating their tenth anniversary, and Rosie solves a mystery.

Twelve Years Old

“It’s our tenth anniversary this year,” Nana stated when I came downstairs at the beginning of December.

Every year since I was two, I had baked gingerbread and vanilla biscuits with her, and every November, like clockwork, she stated that this year I surely was too old to bother with it.

“Of course, I’m not!” I said, rolling my eyes like the pro I’d become.

“Very well,” was her retort, utterly pleased with the outcome of the ridiculous conversation.

From the stereo, Christmas carols were playing, and the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and clementines filled the small kitchen.

“Ten years. Quite a number,” I said. “You’re not tired of it?”

“Don’t be silly,” she scoffed. “I may be a dinosaur in your eyes, young lady, but I’m not dead yet!”

Her sass always made me smile, and I washed my hands, put on my apron and we started the baking.

***

When we were finished and sat on her sofa with tea and biscuits, she asked if I’d been in love yet.

“Crushes on teachers do not count,” she said firmly, which made me blush.

“Do you also have eyes everywhere like uncle Myc?” I groaned utterly embarrassed.

She muttered something unintelligible at the mentioning of my uncle.

“Believe it or not, but I’ve been young once too. It’s perfectly normal to get infatuated with attentive teachers who sees and appreciates you, Rosie dear, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean a boy or a girl your own age.”

She looked expectantly at me, but just shrugged when I shook my head.

“It’ll come, sooner or later,” she assured me, as if I was devastated that I hadn’t got there yet.

By this point I was desperate to turn her attention away from me, and I knew she was more than willing to talk about her own escapades from her youth, and she delivered as always.

***

“I’ve solved a mystery,” I stated proudly when I came back upstairs hours later, carrying two tins of baked goods.

“Have you? Let’s hear it then,” Dad prompted.

Papa looked expectantly up from his microscope.

“Do you know who Robert Redford is?” I asked, wanting to drag this out for as long as my parent’s patience would allow.

“I do. Don’t know about Papa, though,” Dad said. “Sherlock?”

“Show me a photo,” Papa muttered, totally unfazed that he had no knowledge of who we were talking about.

Dad rolled his eyes, tapped his phone to find a photo of the film star, and walked over to show Papa, who stared blankly at the screen.

“Seriously, Sherlock? All the President’s Men, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Out of Africa?”

“Do you know me at all, John?” Papa sighed exasperated.

“I do, my darling,” Dad smiled and gave Papa a kiss.

Papa pulled Dad closer with an arm around his waist and both turned to face me, ready to learn about the mystery concerning Mr. Redford.

Papa chuckled while Dad’s eyes went wide when I re-told Nana’s story of how she, in the late sixties, worked as a makeup artist, and her main responsibility when Redford starred in Tell Them Willie Boy Is Here, was to keep his makeup fresh and his hair in place.

***

In bed that night I pondered this new information about Nana. I now had a new and obscure fact about one of my family members that could come in handy when we played truth or dare at birthday parties. But after a few minutes basking in this promising future of gameplaying, I came to disappointing conclusion. The likelihood that any of my peers knew anything about Robert Redford was probably nil.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

Other tags in the replies.

#may prompts 2024 #may 12: family #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #mrs. hudson #bbc sherlock #johnlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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runabout-river · 3 days

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Thoughts on JJK chapter 259 (Spoilers)

We start with a flashback to the blood junkies teaching Yuji how to use BM. As was already said in a previous flashback, Choso can't teach for shit but that's why Kamo is here. Yuji's one way of relating to the foundation of BM is a little infantile but when it works it works.

This 1-page flashback is there for only one thing: preparing us for Choso's upcoming death through sacrifice.

Sukuna collects BV like I did Yugioh cards. First a cooking pun, then a limit on furnace outside of his DE, then the inside of his DE was littered with explosive CE ambers, then a change of his barrier to keep his CT output high.

Uraume (not Sukuna! not the narrator!) declares this their victory while she hasn't even managed to defeat Hakari. The narrator does say though that this is Sukuna's ultimate move. Looking at its scale and immense destructive power, it's appropriate.

I made a post about other techniques that Sukuna probably has in his sleeve: CTR, the Maximum and the Hollow Technique. It could be that Sukuna's MT and HT could rival his Fire in destructiveness without contradicting the narrator: Sukuna is a villain who also grows while fighting just like the typical shonen protagonist. Sth like HT he might've just learned from Gojo making Yuji's continued fight against him hell.

The moment Yuji was in an enclosed and dark space with Choso above him I knew Choso was a goner. It's sad 😢 but we go back to that picnic table and those two have one last conversation with each other. They're at peace with the situation...

Important to note: Yuji normally infuses dream sequences into others unlike Sukuna who has a post-death talk with them. This is a post-death talk that Yuji now has with Choso, so I'm curious how that will get explained in the future. Is that part of the resonance that gets mentioned later?

Also important: with how everything with Choso and the picnic table is set up, I find it likely that Yuji will be here again right before dying (or when he dies). Other dead characters might greet him here.

The narrator tells us that after the dusts settles, Yuji's convictions get shaken. We get an appropriate 80% page close up of Sukuna from below, portraying him as the monstrous giant that he is.

What I don't really like here is that Yuji's feelings of despair don't get to sink in. Todo appears 1 panel after Yuji looks relatively all right. Maybe Gege didn't want to repeat Kugisaki's death aftermath as it wouldn't add much but a bit more emotions would've been better.

Anyway, Todo is here right when he was needed the most. A flashback tells us what the rational behind his late entrance and absence from Yuji's presence had been. Makes sense and now the Sukuna-Yuji(-Megumi?) resonance will be an important plot point later.

Does that resonance go both ways? Three ways? Was that how Yuji had entered the inner domain where Megumi is imprisoned right now?

Also, who else is going to show up now? This feels like the perfect setup for Nobara to make her comeback. The same points for keeping Todo's presence and assistance hidden apply to her and this scene directly calls back her death scene as well.

The "most likely fine" is also funny but it also sets up that Ino, Maki and Miwa(?) might've gotten injuries that cross them out of the fight. I think that only Maki will return.

Now the original Brothers™ are back to fighting together again (would've loved Choso and Todo to argue about that though). Sukuna of course knows everything about their fighting style and he looks like a menace again. (Maybe next chapter will open with another flashback of Choso and Todo fighting over Yuji)

Sukuna's arms are open and he smiles without any worries. While Uraume might be shocked that this isn't their victory and that Sukuna's most devastating attack only killed one person, Sukuna himself is all sunshine and rainbows.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #yuji itadori #itadori yuuji #choso #jjk choso #ryomen sukuna #todo aoi

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runawaymun · 1 day

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Hey what do you favs/otps do to still make each other blush after oh idk. 1000 years. Celrond. Glorestor. Etc. :))

FUNNN

okay so

Celrond - Elrond is a very easy person to make blush. Celebrian loves making innuendos or sexy jokes in his general direction and he just starts to shrivel up and die. He's such a prude I love him. Meanwhile Cel keeps a perfectly straight face during all actually spicy conversations. But you put Elrond out in the yard shirtless, sweaty, and throwing down during a sparring match or something and she's melting up on the veranda.

Glorestor - Erestor likes suggestively, surreptitiously touching Glorfindel in inappropriate places when no one is looking. Gets Glorfindel red in no time ;) ofc ofc Glorfindel is cool with this. Erestor can't get got in the same way BUT all Glorfindel has to do is be overly lovey dovey and smoochie in public and Erestor gets super flustered.

Brimbrond - Brimb's fav method of making Elrond blush is effusive compliments. Elrond's fav method of making Brimb blush is suddenly standing a whole foot taller than him and leaning into his space (via maia powers ofc ofc). Normally Brimb's the bigger partner and it is SUCH a turn on haha.

Elrondir - Lindir turns red with literally zero provocation so Elrond doesn't have to do much. I think it's more of an effort to keep him from turning red all the time! But Elrond likes calling him pretty because that really gets him ;) Meanwhile Lindir likes just to wear his hair down (he has Silvan sensibilities) in public and watch Elrond simmer and implode.

Russingon - Fingon can be just the tiniest bit assertive in Maedhros' general direction and Mae is begging to be stepped on. Fingon is pretty shameless but does get really blushy when Mae starts looking at him and completely zonks out in unbridled worship.

Gilrond - Again with the effusive compliments thing like. Gil can literally say anything vaguely nice about Elrond and he'll melt into the floorboards. Gil is hard to get but Elrond likes to sext him via osanwe during meetings and watch him squirm.

#this is NINE MONTHS OLD #idk why any of you still follow me #SORRY #but this was fun thank you :)#celrond #elrondir #brimbrond #glorestor #russingon #gilrond

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teliphone · 3 days

Text

Blackmail

Summary: You have been receiving text messages from an unknown caller. They know secrets that you didn't know yet. They use that as an advantage to string you closer to them. You need someone to treat you right.

Warning(s): Smut, Obsessive Behavior, Blackmail, Threats, Manipulations, Cheating, Praise Kink

Word Count: 6.2k

A buzz from your phone vibrates the table, cutting you off mid-sentence. Your eyes stare at your phone which is facing down towards the cafeteria table. It vibrates several more times, suggesting you received more than just one text. You decide to ignore it because you had a feeling it may be from the unknown caller. The sender has been messaging you since last week. At first, the texts were weird but easier to handle. You believed it was a prank, but soon the texts started sounding more personal. Filled with uncomfortable threats and blackmail. As if the person knows you or about you. Someone in this school.

You uncomfortable shift your weight to the opposite side, away from the phone. Noticing you have been staring at your phone for too long, you look back up at your best friend, Amber. You give her a sweet fake smile. She follows your eyes and nibbles the bottom of her lips.

“Aren’t you going to check?” She questions. She leans forward to grab your phone.

It’s normal for her to check considering you two have been best friends since middle school. She’d sometimes toss her phone aside and scroll through yours instead. Which is acceptable to you because you had nothing to hide from her. Especially since you believe she’s just scrolling through your media apps. She claims that your feed is far more entertaining than hers. You trust her with almost everything. On the other hand, she trusts you with everything she has. You weren’t the type to snoop much but with Amber's absolute trust in you… you could look through every single app on her phone. It was a joke at first when she gave you permission. To tease her and make her panic. There’s no way she’s that nonchalant. You’d bite your lips and narrow your eyes at her, finger lingering over the search history or deleted photo albums like a trigger. She gives no response. Just a shrug and a classic Amber response of:

“I have nothing to hide from you.”

You roll your eyes and a groan escaped your lips. Letting the mobile device slip off your fingers and onto her bed.

“No fun,” You sigh.

This time you do have a secret to hide. Those texts were something you did not want Amber to read or see. They consist of things even Amber does not know. The last thing you want is for her to be worried for you. As she reaches for your phone, you quickly snatch it away. Shoving it into your pockets. Her face is in shock. You have never been so defensive towards her.

“It’s nothing really. It’s just Ethan,” You lie. You couldn’t look at her expression and focus on the forgotten meal in front of you. She returns her hands back to her side slowly. Her eyes never leave yours. She decides to not interrogate you in front of all the other classmates. She’s going to find out sooner or later.

“Oh okay... What does he want?” She asks with a hint of annoyance. She hates your so-called “boyfriend”. She does not believe you two are meant to be together.

“He wanted to hang out tonight. His parents are gone on a trip,” You half lie.

“You didn’t read the text,” She informs, narrowing her eyes at you. You shoot her a look of annoyance. What is this all of a sudden? An investigation?

“He’s been asking me since this morning okay?” You protest, “I know it’s him because he’s been desperate and a bit horny…. I-“ You pause. Secretly glancing around you in case someone hears. Every other student seems to be invested in their own conversations to pay attention to yours. Amber leans forward because she’s intrigued.

“I haven’t been doing it with him,” You breathe out. At least this time you weren’t lying to Amber. She groans in response. Pushing her food away from herself as an expression she lost her appetite.

“I’m going to start heading to class. Have fun with him tonight,” She cringes. She stands up and walks to your side. She leans down to give you a kiss on the head before walking away. Once she was out of sight, you pull out your phone.

Your boyfriend is cheating on you.

You’re just a sweet slut for him to use.

I see how you look at her.

He doesn’t love you.

Break up with him. You don’t deserve him anyway.

You feel a heaviness in your heart. There’s no way he’s cheating on you… right? You brush your head in frustration. You shouldn’t trust a random text message. You are not going to let this ruin your life.

“I guess I’m not hanging out with him tonight,” You inform Amber as you place your phone down on your bed. She rolls herself over til she is laying on her stomach on the left side of the bed. She’s still wearing her clothes from earlier at school. You sit on the right side wearing a graphic t-shirt and sleeping shorts. Her face lightens up and smiles.

“What happened?” Her question is a little too exciting. You bring your thighs up to your chest and rest your chin on top of your knee.

“He suddenly-“

“You know what? I don’t care,” She quickly cuts you off. You give her a soft smile.

“You don’t even love him. It’s a waste of time,” She bickers, shuffling around uncomfortably. Her shoulders bumped against your feet a couple of times.

“I don’t love him… yet,” You correct her. She stops moving and you watch her chest move up and down fast. She quickly sits up which makes you widen your eyes. She scoots closer and places her hands on your knees. You lean back till your head hits the board of the bed.

“Do you like having sex with him?” She challenges. Her eyes glisten from the lamp beside the bed. The only light source in the room. Your eyes glance down to her plump lips and flicker shut. Turning your head to the side.

“Sometimes,” You admit, staring at the wall. You suddenly feel the heat rise to your cheeks. Amber tilts her head as she slowly analyzes the side of your features.

“That’s not enough,” She breathes, staring at your lips. Her short fingernails graze against the skin of your knees. You shallow the knot in your throat. You look back up to meet her dilated dark eyes. She looks a little insane. She smiles, tilting her head slightly. Your heart quickens embarrassingly. Your legs drop from your chin into a cross position in an attempt to cool off. She bites her lips playfully.

“What do you like?”

“What do you mean?” You whisper.

“During bed,” She deadpan. You furrow your eyebrows and brush her fingers off your knees. The small circles she had been drawing were driving you crazy.

“Why would I tell you?” You giggle. She leans forward and rests her head on your shoulders. You swear she could hear your heart hammering against your chest.

“Come on. We’re best friends. We share everything,” Her breath fans against your neck. She snuggles closer and you squeeze your eyes shut. Her scent clouds your thoughts and it took every muscle in your body to gently push her away.

“Amber stop,” You hesitate. In another second you would fall into temptation. She groans in defeat and falls back onto your bed. Her hair spread across your pillow. She’s visibly upset, but you didn’t really understand why. You had a boyfriend and you hate cheating. She should know that. But you also didn’t blame her for feeling frustrated. You can’t hide your attraction toward her. It’s so obvious. It’s like a game between you two. Truthfully, it’s toxic… and you hate that you enjoy it. A game where you will end up breaking your morals and submitting to your thoughts. She lets out a loud sigh and pushes herself off the bed.

“Where are you going?” You puzzle. You want her to stay next to you. She fluffs her hair and adjusts her clothes.

“I have to go home. My parents told me to be back for a dinner party with some neighbors,” She explains.

“I see,” You try to not sound disappointed. Usually, she would stay til late. To the point where you will have to beg her to leave so that her parents wouldn’t get angry at her. She hides her smile and walks towards the bedroom door. Stopping at the door frame she turns around.

“Don't miss me too much. I’ll come to pick you up for school tomorrow,” She promises before leaving you alone in your room. You pout and fall onto your bed, inhaling the lingering scent of Ambers perfume. You close your eyes and feel your body start to relax.

Buzz. Your phone vibrates and you ignore it.

Buzz.

Buzz. You shuffle.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

You groan in frustration. With eyes still closed you brush your hands around the bedsheets to locate the phone. You bring the phone to your face and start reading the text.

Y/n I have news for you.

Do you really think Ethan is studying for his econ exam right now?

Are you that naive?

He’s too easy to please.

Btw you look good today baby.

Especially now in those shorts.

You feel panic zap throughout your body. The room suddenly feels cold and too dark. You run to your windows and shut the curtains as fast as you can. Clutching the phone close to your chest. You take a seat back on the bed. With shaky hands, you text back.

Who are you?

A second later you get a reply.

Yay I finally got your attention!

Do you want a surprise?

How do you know what I’m wearing?

You’re asking so many questions. I can tell you’re nervous lol.

Answer me. Two minutes pass.

Not yet, baby. The nickname makes you sick in the stomach.

I’m sorry I made you feel anxious. I don’t mean to. Here’s the surprise as an apology.

File attached

You nervously hover over the link. Clicking it causes a photo to appear on the screen. At first, you couldn’t figure out what it was showing. You narrow your eyes and look closer. The photo is blurry and a bit dark. The only light source coming in is from the gaps between wherever the photo is taken. You zoom in on the bright area. A portion of Ethan’s body is evident. He’s in the motion of putting on a shirt. Your eyes widen in realization. The unknown caller is hidden in your boyfriend's closet. You jump out of bed and open your phone to call the cops. A text notification appears above the phone dial before you could finish pressing the last number.

Don’t call the cops or I’ll kill him.

You gasp and drop your phone.

“Oh my god!” You cry out. You rush to your closet and pull down your shorts to put on jeans. Fumbling and breathing heavily. You feel yourself sweating from anxiety and fear. You have to get to his house and save him.

You knock vigorously against his front door. The thick wood is starting to hurt your hand from how hard you’re pounding on the door.

“Ethan! Ethan, are you okay?! Open the door!” You pant. You continue knocking for who knows how long. A dark figure appears behind the blurry glass and you’re breathing hicks. The door opens revealing Ethan wearing his boxers and a blue t-shirt. His hair is disheveled as if he had just woken up from a nap. You stare at him in shock and confusion. You start touching him to check for any bruises or cuts. Turning him around and checking up and down his body.

“Woah babe! What’s wrong?” He gasps at your action.

“Is there anyone in your room?” You worry. He widens his eyes slightly for a split second before averting his gaze to the left of you and back. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

“What? Why would I? I have no one over,” He answers. His answer didn’t satisfy you.

“Let me check your room,” You demand. You try to walk past him, but he holds you back. You look up and let out a frustrated sigh. He is desperately trying to reach the same level of concern as you, but he didn’t understand a single thing happening.

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?” He inquires. You attempt to push his hand away, but his grip is firm. Your eyes start to water from intense anxiety. His hold softens and he reaches up to hold your face.

“I- I received a picture of you. Someone is hidden in your room. I was so worried I came here as fast as possible. I was afraid someone was going to hurt you,” You fret. He finally understands your actions.

“Hey, I am okay. I’m here with you right now. It’s alright,” He comforts. You sniff and reach up to hold his triceps. He pulls you into a deep hug. You stay in that position until your breathing starts to calm down. His warmth comforts you. His fingers tip gently grazing on top of your scalp.

He never let you check his room that night. But that was okay because you trust him. As long as he is okay like he claimed to be, there shouldn’t be any need for you to check.

The next morning you sat extremely quiet in Amber’s car which is now parked in front of school. Who is the person texting you? Will they actually harm the people you love? How did they get a picture of Ethan? Did they set up a camera? Is there a camera hidden in your room? So many thoughts flood your mind that you didn’t realize Amber was talking to you. She waves a hand in front of your face. You blink and look up at her. Her eyebrows furrow with a concerned look. She places her hand on your cheek.

“There you are. Did something happen last night?” She worries. You tilt your head away from her palm and look down. Her eyes flash with hurt as she returns her hand back to her side. You don’t know if you should tell her about the text messages you have been receiving. You didn’t want her to worry. You also didn’t want the unknown messenger to start threatening Amber if she were to find out. On the other hand, you knew you needed someone to be there with you. You can’t handle this alone. The only person who you fully love and trust is her. Amber.

“Amber,” You finally whimper. A tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her. Waves of emotion come crashing down. All you need is for her to…to… no. All you need is her. Everything about her will help. She quickly engulfs you in a hug. She doesn’t ask you any questions but waits til you start to catch your breath. You slowly pull away from the hug first. She waits patiently. You lick your lips and pull out your phone. Quietly pressing onto the unknown contact to reveal the messages that have been haunting you. You hand it over to her. You watch as she scrolls and reads the texts. Her face starts to turn into pure anger. She grips your phone. Her eyes enlarge and glisten.

“How long has this person been texting you,” She demands.

“Almost two weeks,” You confess. She angrily rubs her hair away from her face.

“Why haven’t you called the cops?!”

“B-because I am scared! They threatened me! If I called the cops, what would they do to Ethan?! What would they do to you?! I cannot let anything happen to you two, especially you!” You explode. Thinking about any harm being inflicted on her makes your blood boil. Your hands start to shake without noticing. She looks down at your shaking body and pauses.

“Do.. do you think this person is trying to help you?” She wonders out loud.

“What?” You look at her in disbelief.

“Think about it. This person has been warning you about Ethan. How you shouldn’t trust him. Maybe he’s been lying to you and-” She rambles.

“Are you serious right now?” You glare. She quickly shuts her mouth. She knew she messed up. You are starting to feel like you regret telling her. You unlock the passenger door and walk out. Slamming the car door behind you.

“Y/n!” Amber cries out. You ignore her and continue walking at a fast pace. A few students hanging out at the front glance at you two. She stumbles over her own footsteps to catch up to you.

“Baby I am sorry! Y/n, please! I am just trying to make sense of this situation!” She calls out again. You stop walking and took a deep breath in. She finally catches up, leaning over to collect herself. You swallow your pride.

“I am sorry too. I didn’t mean to get mad… it’s just. I just wish you are wrong. I couldn’t imagine if you were right. I trust him. You of all people should know that,” You admit. Before she could reply, the school bell rings. Signaling that it is time for all students to get to class. You two glance at each other and quietly walk to class.

Two classes have already passed and you are currently sitting at your third. A few students whisper among each other talking about whatever topic is floating around. You drum your fingertips against the wood of your desk. Your eyes stare around at your classmates. Could one of them be the unknown caller? Tara sits next to you on the right. She is currently wearing a blue sweater. Her hair was slightly curled and a few front strands tied to the back. She is bored as she scrolls on her phone, waiting for class to start. She stops scrolling and side-eyes you. She catches you staring at her.

“What?” She asks.

“Nothing,” You answer. She returns her attention back to her phone. It can’t be her. Amber and she are closer than you are with Tara. There’s no reason for her to distress her friends’ best friend. You look ahead and see Wes. He is wearing a gray t-shirt. He is currently organizing his desk. A perfectly sharp pencil to the left of him and a clean page in the front. You’ve talked to him a few times. He’s an absolute sweetheart, yet Amber always liked to pick on him. You couldn’t tell if she was just joking or if she actually hated him.

Buzz. Your heart quickens again. You pull out the phone from your pocket.

Hi baby!

What do you want?

Wow, what a fast response! I am starting to feel like we are becoming good friends!

Stop texting me. Please.

Awh you’re begging. Sorry I can’t, but no worries. I have another surprise!

Break up with Ethan today during lunch hours. You blink.

Publicly announce it. If you don’t before lunch ends… I’ll give everyone a taste of what your boyfriends’ been up to. Don’t test me, baby.

Your ears muffle the surrounding noises. What just happened? What did they mean by “a taste of what your boyfriends been up to”? There’s no way they would-

“Y/n,” Tara’s voice brings you back to life.

“W-what?” You stutter. She points to the front of the room and your eyes follow her direction. The teacher stood with her arms crossed as she stares.

“Put away the phone. Class started,” She barks.

The teacher goes on and on with her lesson, but of course, you did not listen to a single full sentence. You mostly stared at your desk in deep thought. Afraid of what is going to happen. Class ended rather fast… or slowly. You couldn’t tell anymore. You rush out down the halls and see a familiar figure. It's Amber. She is currently talking to a few classmates. One hand holding a textbook while the other she uses to brush her hair. A classmate giggles and playfully slaps Amber's shoulder. You roll your eyes and walk up beside Amber. Her full attention immediately falls on you and you smile. She waves her hands as a signal for the nameless classmates to walk away. They glare at you as they walk by. Funny how fast their face changes once she’s not looking.

“They hate me,” You mumble, leaning against Amber's locker. She giggles and touches her heart chain necklace. You watch as she rubs against the heart.

“No one could hate you. You’re perfect,” She corrects as she softly pushes you off her locker. You obey and rest on the locker next to hers. She opens it and places her textbook inside. You watch her closely, tilting your head against the metal doors. Looking at her calms you. She catches you staring and smiles, tilting her head to match yours. You two stare at each other until a name calls for you. Amber rolls her eyes and slams her locker shut. She didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Hey there babe,” Ethan greets. He grabs your waist and pulls you close to his. Peppering kisses around your face. You giggle awkwardly before pushing him off. Amber's face remains expressionless.

“Ready for lunch? There’s no econ group project to work on today, so what better use of time than to eat with my girl,” He beams. Amber makes a gagging sound. You pinch her arm. Ethan looks at Amber and awkwardly rubs his neck.

“Y-you can join us too, you know,” He offers. Amber gives him a knowing look. Something you didn’t understand, but he did. When did he talk to her enough to understand this? From what you remember: Amber hates him and Ethan is scared of Amber. What are you missing? There’s an awkward pause in the air. As if the two of them were speaking through their eyes. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Sure,” Amber finally speaks up. Ethan smiles and nods his head in satisfaction. As if he wanted you to congratulate him for his effort in trying to get closer to your best friend. You take a step forward towards the cafeteria. He reaches his arm over your shoulders while Amber links her arm around yours. You stop in shock as the two stare at each other. Amber is the one that removes her arm from you. She swears under her breath. The three of you reach a table. Ethan goes off to grab some food while Amber sits in front of you, snacking on some chips. She is disinterested in the chips. Her attention is more on you and… Ethan? She has not spoken a word. Your leg bops up and down in nervousness. You think back to the texts. You have to break up with Ethan soon or… You look up at Amber. Her eyes dilate and glisen. She tilts her head to the side and smiles widely. Plopping a chip in her mouth. You shift uncomfortably against her gaze. Ethan returns with two trays.

“Here babe. I got your favorite,” He chirps. You feel sick in the stomach from the anxiety. Food never looked so unappetizing til now. He starts chewing on his food and secretly glances up at Amber. She could not care less about him right now. She continues looking at you. As if she’s waiting for you to do something… say something…?

Time ticks by. How long has it been? How long have you been pondering and begging for time to stop? Your heart pounds harder. Sweat starts to appear slightly on top of your forehead. Ethan seems awkward in the silence, not knowing what to do or say. Amber starts to look bored.

“Ethan…” You hesitate. This gets both of their attention.

“I- I have something to say”

Ding Ding Ding.

“Shit,” You cuss.

It’s the sound of the school bell.

Lunch is over.

The students start getting up from their seats and cleaning their area. Amber crumbles her bag of chips and tosses it on Ethan's tray. You want the earth to swallow you so you could disappear.

Suddenly many buzzes start echoing throughout the cafeteria. The students halt their movement to retrieve their phones. Gasps can be heard from all around you. You look around and everyone is staring at you. Some looked disgusted, some in shock, some cheering and some were whistling at you. It is such a mixed reaction, you didn’t understand. Ethan opens his phone and freezes. His face immediately turns red with fear and shame. Amber opens her phone as well and widens her eyes. She hands her phone screen to you.

“Oh my goodness… Y/n… You have to look-”

“No! Don’t look!” Ethan begs. He grips her wrist with a frantic look. He’s begging her to stop. She glares at him and tries to jerk her hand away. You decide to listen to her and grab the phone. The picture on the screen was Ethan. Nude. Doggy styling some girl, but the girl was cropped. Unidentified. But you could not care less who the girl was. It wasn’t you.

“You’ve been cheating on me?!” You scream. The whole cafeteria quiets down. Ethan licks his dry lips and brings his hands up in an attempt to hold you. You take a step back away from him. He disgusts you now. Tears start to build up and fall over your cheeks. You bring the back of your hand to wipe the tears. You can’t let him or any of these students see you cry,

“I- I-”

“How fucken dare you!” You cut him off, “ I trusted you! All you do in return is sleep with some bitch?! You’re fucken pathetic,”

“Y/n… That girl… She’s-”

“Shut up!” Amber orders, “You’ve messed up enough. Don’t talk to Y/n again. She hates you.” She gets up from her seat and walks towards you. She wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you away from the crowd. Away from all this betrayal and embarrassment. Ethan pushes against the crowd.

“Let me explain!” He begs. You quickly turn around and shoot him the deadliest glare.

“We are over,” You swore. His shoulders drop in defeat. The crowd shallows him with many comments and questions:

“Bro what the fuck man. Why would you do that to her?”

“I didn’t think you’d be that bad.”

“Of course. I knew he was too good to actually be good.”

“I feel so bad for Y/n.”

“Yo, that was insane!”

Amber successfully dragged you to the front of the school. A place where there are no students currently. You sob uncontrollably. You feel so frustrated, betrayed, and embarrassed. You attempt to push away from Amber. To hide your face and run away from everyone.

“Hey, hey stop it,” Amber begins. She holds you to catch a glimpse of your face. You fight against her. Nearly knocking her over.

“Y/n,” She begs. You surrender and let her do whatever she wants. You are too emotionally unstable to do anything. She brushes her thumb across your cheek. You whimper in an attempt to stop crying. Your lips quiver and her eyes soften. You sniff as tears continue to roll down.

“I am so sorry this happened to you,” All you could do is nod.

“Take me home,” Your voice coarse.

The whole car ride was quiet. Amber would glance over worriedly once in a while. You stare out the window. She nibbles the bottom of her lip. Her grip on the steering wheel was hard. After a while, she finally makes a turn into your house. You sit in silence in her car. She shifts in her seat to face you. You can hear her breathing.

“D-do you want me to stay with you tonight? You can come over to mine tonight if you want. My parents went on a business trip,” She whispers.

“No. Thank you, Amber. I will see you tomorrow,” You answer, unbuckling your seatbelt. As you reach for the door, she holds your arm.

“Text me tonight okay?” She requests. You didn’t answer, but she knew you would do it.

You walk into your room and collapse onto your bed. You could no longer cry. You were so tired you had to close your eyes and sleep. About a few hours later you hear many knocks on your door. You stir awake feeling sick and uncomfortable. The pounding continues, forcing yourself to get up and towards the door. You open the door and see Ethan. His hair is messy and he sweats through his shirt. Seems like he has been running. You swing to slam the door shut, but he blocks it.

“Please let me explain,” He begs. You’re so sick and tired of hearing him. Sick of hearing his voice. You release your grip on the door. He walks into the room and takes a deep breath. He wastes no time seeing that this is the only chance you would let him speak.

“It’s Amber,” He confesses. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“W-what?” You breathe.

“The girl in the picture. It’s Amber,” He could no longer look you in the eye. Your eyes begin to water again. A painful ache rises in your heart.

“Why? Why would she-”

“I don’t know. She wanted to have sex all of a sudden. We did it once. I swear,”

“She wouldn’t do that to me,” You deny. He ruffles his hair and shakes his head.

“She did. But she… This is so fucked… She kept moaning your name,” He rasps. His cheeks turn red.

“What the fuck are you saying?” You cuss. This makes no sense to you. In fact, it is starting to creep you out. How many secrets did your close friends keep? How many more lies are there to break your heart?

“Talk to Amber. She’s insane in the head. She’s obsessed with you, Y/n!”

“Get out,”

“I will. I am so sorry for everything. Part of it is my fault. I am weak and I fell for her seduction. Please confront Amber. She has to tell you the whole truth,” He emphasizes. He leaves the room in a hurry, leaving you in disbelief. You collect your thoughts and take deep breaths. You are no longer sad. You are furious. Your body shakes in anger.

You pound against her front door. Not caring how much it hurts your fist. The door swings open revealing a smiling Amber. God, you are so angry.

“Jeez Y/n, you’re gonna wake up the whole neighborhood! I said text me, not show up in front of my house like this. Not that I am complaining,” She jokes. You push her into the house, slamming the door behind you. She widens her eyes and furrows her eyebrows.

“Tell me the truth,” You demand. She crosses her arms and shakes her head. She smiles revealing her teeth.

“What truth?”

“I am so sick of the lies. Ethan told me,” You fum. Her smile drops and she looks emotionless. She swallows a lump in her throat.

“It was you, wasn’t it? The unknown caller. It has always been you,” You accuse. She blinks her eyes which threaten to glisten. Her lack of answers speaks volumes.

“Do you hate me that much?” You whimper. Her facade breaks and she looks absolutely hurt.

“Hate you? I love you!” She cries out. She paces back in forth in front of you, clenching her fist. You stare at her in shock.

“No, no this was not supposed to happen! Did it seem that way to you?! That I hate you? I tried so hard to reveal how much I care and love you,”

“You fucked my boyfriend-”

“Do you know why?” She giggles, getting close to your face. Her pupils were blown wide and dark. You stumble backward, but she continues to follow until you hit your back against the door.

“I wanted to feel you. That lip of his has kissed you all over. He told me how you like to get kissed on the neck and down to your collar. That hand of his would grip your hips and pull you close to his body. His bulge would stick uncomfortably in his jeans. Your hands would unzip his pants and play with his staff. His dick burying deep inside you,” She lets out a soft moan. You clench your teeth.

“Feeling your wet cunt rub against his dick… I can’t help but crave it. I don’t care about Ethan. Never. I cared about how I got to feel what's been in you. It turns me on so much. If I could not have you, I will take the nearest thing that got the privilege to touch you. You drive me insane. I want you,”

Her head dips towards your neck and she licks a long line up your throat. You grunt, squeezing your legs together. She leans back and hovers her lips over yours. There is no longer any personal space. Her body presses against yours.

“The only way I can get rid of him is to expose his lack of self-control to you. I didn’t do anything wrong. He failed to deny me. I knew he was not perfect for you. I am. I was the only person you trust to read the ‘unknown’ caller texts. I was the only person you ran to for help and comfort. You picked me, Y/n. I did this for you. For us,” She purrs. She lingers a little longer over your lips before leaning to your ear.

“Kiss me please,” She blushes, “Please Y/n. Kiss me and I will do anything for you.” You tilt your head up to clear your head from her scent. She’s drowning your sense of morality. She took that opportunity to kiss your neck. You moan. You can feel your walls starting to break down.

“That’s it, baby. Kiss me back,” She moans. Her mouth leaves your neck and returns back to hovering over your lips. She smiles brightly after making eye contact with you. Your eyes look just like hers. Dilated and glistening. You’re turned on and she knows it. Your heart hammers against your rib cage. You push yourself off the door and crash your lips against hers. She chuckles in bliss and grinds your body on top of hers. Her hands glide up the back of you, making you arch into her.

“Fuck Amber,” You gasp. She pulls away from your swollen lips.

“Keep saying my name. I want to be the only name you moan from now on. Stay with me and I will make you the most loved person on earth,” She promises. You nod your head rapidly. Lust clouding your mind.

“Yes,” You blush.

She pulls you by the hand towards the stairs and up to her room. She locks the door as you glance around her room. You’ve been here many times. The picture frame of you and her smiling sits on her desk. You hide your smile behind your hair. You suddenly feel her arms snake around your waist. She nuzzles her nose into your neck. She inhales your scent and sighs.

“Are you ready?” She whispers. You turn around and wrap your arms around her neck. You refuse to admit that her stalking and obsessive behavior are attractive out loud. It will be the new secret you will keep inside.

“Amber… I want you to show me how much you wanted me,” You express.

“I will,” She smiles. She plays with the rim of your shirt. You eye her lovingly, waiting for her. She pulls up your shirt, leaving you in just a bra. The coldness of her room makes you shiver. Your skin raises goosebumps. She analyzes your body down from the waist and up.

“You’re so beautiful,” She confesses. You reach under to pull her shirt off. The chain heart necklace hits her collarbone. She quickly unclasps your bra and your nipple hardens. She brings her hands to cup your chest. She giggles in excitement. You walk backward til your heel hits the bed frame. You flick your fingers for her to follow. She comes close and kisses your collarbone as you start to lie on her bed. She kisses down from your collarbone to your chest. She sticks out her tongue and draws light circles around your right nipple. You suck in a sharp breath. She continues kissing down to your hip. Her fingers hook around your pants to pull them down. You help her by lifting your ass up.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” She breathes. She slightly nips the skin on the inner of your thighs. Leaving her mark. Her nose brushes against the material of your underwear.

“Fuck me, Amber,” You gasp. She pushes the material to reveal your lovely folds. She slightly slides her fingers along them. A silky clear substance coats her middle finger. The scent of your arousal makes her drunk.

“You’re already so wet,” She giggles.

“So embarrassing,” You spill, covering your face with the back of your hand. She reaches up with her other hand and grabs the hand covering your face. Your fingers interlock.

“Don’t hide your face baby. I want to see you,” She smiles.

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x y/n #scream 5 #amber freeman smut #im reposting (this was my old fanfic i deleted)#miss me?#amber freeman fanfiction #mikey madison #lgbt

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