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#but it feels embarrassing sometimes!! and no one ever comments on it and it weirds me out honestly!
jenga-modus · 6 months
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really is insane that i just woke up one day and started ticcing. like ok then guess we're doing this now
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livinginshambles · 10 months
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Not ridiculous at all | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: You are part of the marauders, always having felt special when they called you part of the gang, but also consequently too embarrassed to admit to wanting to be more feminine, afraid that they would no longer deem you cool enough to hang out with you. You are hurt by James' comments and James might realise something when you're avoiding him.
Notes: Best friend!James, he's a bit stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, arguments, so maybe a little angsty, but not really, classic cliche tropes like friends to lovers, misunderstandings, pining (I literally just dreamt this so it's a bit patchy) and I know it's very stereotypical but that's why it's just fanfiction :)
(PS) I haven't written before, just wanted to get this out of my system. English is my third language, and this fic is not proofread because I'm way too lazy for that! Enjoy!
Part two Masterlist
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You've grown up with James Potter and have been part of the marauders since the very beginning. You always took 'being one of the guys' or 'part of the gang' as a compliment, it left you feeling giddy as if you were included in some secret group that only you had the privilege of belonging to.
But sometimes you would sit in the girls dormitory and despite your friends laughing and chatting about, you would feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. They often did activities together and by now, 6th year at Hogwarts, they've managed to stop asking you to join them as you've always dutifully replied that it 'wasn't your thing'.
I mean, what would the guys think of you? It would be too embarrassing to admit to them, or anyone for that matter, that you would love to be dolled up for once. To go shopping with your friends, be included in movie nights, asked by Alice if she could test some makeup on you, or read and gossip about the new romance novels that were the new hype.
Especially now when you sat on your bed, part of the circle in which they were discussing plans to go dress shopping.
"You should absolutely join us!" Alice squealed in delight. You were shaken out of your train of thoughts with a huh and realized the conversation had taken a turn somewhere and now included you too. Marlene and Lily nodded fervently in agreement but you bashfully shook your head.
"Nah, can you imagine me in a dress?" You joked, but Dorcas caught the curious and somewhat longing look in your eyes at the mention of getting ready for the Yule ball.
"I think you would look great actually. And besides, you can treat yourself too sometime you know. You're not obligated to stick with the marauders all the time." The girls in the dorm once again all agreed and you smiled at their kindness.
"Since when are you interested in things like the Yule ball?"
You snapped your head up at James to see his questioning eyes and then quickly averted your own in a flustered manner as if one of your greatest secrets had just been uncovered. "I just think it seems nice, that's all, I'm not even going or anything", you defended. You felt slightly embarrassed by James' face which wore a weirded out expression.
"Well you're not really the type to go to such an event anyway right?", James remarked. You did your best to hide your frown at his immediate agreement. Was it that bad that you'd hoped he would say something along the lines of 'what are you talking about, go enjoy yourself at the party' or something like that?
"Besides I can't imagine you in a dress, all made up, it'd just look so ridiculous." James continued. Remus, ever the sweet and attentive boy glanced at you and noticed your slightly sacked shoulders in disappointment at his words.
"I mean you're just not that type of person, you know? Like completely opposite of Lily."
And with that your face felt like it burned from embarrassment. As if you didn't already know. That didn't mean you didn't want to be more like her sometimes.
Peter's eyes flicked with concern from James to you and back.
You felt hurt and forced yourself to stop tears welling up at his words, mustering up a grin, ready to agree with him but were interrupted by Sirius who had now also caught your change in mood.
"Prongs, you really have no tact at all, how are you expecting to even win Evans over with that?" He said in a playful manner as to not offend their whipped friend, but not fully succeeding.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" James looked slightly offended and Remus jumped in the conversation.
"That's just not a nice thing to say. It's different if you call me an ugly toad, but not Y/N! If she wants to go to the Yule Ball all dolled up, she definitely should." He shot you a supportive smile which you returned.
Peter nodded in agreement. "I don't think you'd look ridiculous at all," he told you sincerely. You subtly scooted a little closer to him and Remus.
"But it's Y/N, it'd just look weird, cause she's just not a proper girl like that, no offense." James shot back and gave you a smile at the last two words.
You saw Remus opening his mouth to retort but quickly intervened. "He's right." You told them. You just wanted this conversation to be over with already. It was awkward and painful for you as it was.
James didn't seem to get the memo, however, and kept on going, drilling your confidence further into the ground.
"See, she agrees." He turned to you. "It's not like you're ugly or anything but it'd be ridiculous. Like I said, you're not the type to be all beautiful and dressed up, hair done and all. I mean you're cool, but not pretty like that." He was clearly not done yet and started talking about Lily and her beauty at which point you abruptly got up and left.
"What's gotten into her?" James remarked with a frown.
Sirius and Remus didn't even bother to answer and just stared at him in disbelief.
The girls comforted you as you cried. Marlene barged in with ice cream, stolen from the kitchen in one hand and 5 spoons in the other. "What a jerk." She commented and thrust a spoon in your hand before plopping down in front of you with the rest of your friends.
Lily sighed frustratedly. "See this is why I don't like him at all. He's so rude and arrogant, and he-"
"- is right." You answered dejectedly. "I'm your friend, but not the type to join you guys and belong to your circle."
"Well that's only because you hang around the boys all the time," Alice argued. She nudged you. "But you know what, now that James is being a git, you can hang out with us!"
Dorcas gasped dramatically. "We could do a girls night! Treat ourselves a little", she jumped up. "I'll get the face masks and nail polish!"
Lily let go of you too and told you to sit up. "Come on, let me do your hair," she smiled.
With Marlene feeding you ice cream, your nails being polished by Alice, hair done by Lily and Dorcas reading the latest romance novel out loud while you were all wearing a facemask, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.
"I love you guys."
"Don't talk with your mouth full."
You laughed and pushed Marlene teasingly off the bed.
"Hey, watch it! I just finished your right hand." Alice complained.
James was a moron. He was kind hearted (to most), popular, captain of the Quidditch team, good looking but a moron nonetheless. So he was absolutely clueless to find you missing from the common room yesterday evening and even more clueless when you were missing from your usual spot next to him at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, because he could not for the life of him think of a reason why you would sit with Alice and Frank instead.
He frowned and felt uneasy at the fact that you hadn't even looked at him, let alone come for a hug with your smile and said 'good morning' like usual. He shook the thoughts away. You were obviously allowed to have your own friends as well and not obligated to spend all your time with him.
The door of the great hall behind him opened and Lily Evans walked in, which was why instead of walking up to you to say something, he habitually turned to Lily instead.
"You look beautiful this morning as usual. I could put in the effort to match you when we go out together?" He shot her a wink and a coy smile but faltered slightly when his attempts at flirting got even less of a reaction out of her than usual.
James turned to Sirius with a questioning look, as if to ask 'you noticed that too right?' but Sirius simply shrugged. When James looked back at Frank and Alice, you were gone, having left the moment you felt his stare.
James started to ponder. 'Were you avoiding him? Surely you wouldn't, right? You two were friends after all, childhood friends. Childhood best friends even, for Merlin's sake! If you were upset with him, you'd definitely let him know.'
A week passed with you, sitting on the opposite sides of the classroom, seemingly having picked partners long before class because how else would you team up with random students before James could even blink?
He had now fully accepted that you were avoiding him. And with that, he meant 'accepting the possibility of that occurrence'. He was by no means going to accept your strange new behavior without doing anything.
The last drop though, was when he heard the news from Peter that you'd already left for Hogsmeade with the girls.
He frowned. 'You were kind', he reasoned. If you were upset with him, then he'd have to apologize. Quickly. Because it's been far too long without his best friend and he realized he missed you. Especially seeing you hang out with others.
"What did I do?" He finally asked his remaining friends.
"Really Prongs?" Remus couldn't help but ask. His friend just gave him a look that said 'well go on then, what is it'.
"How about you think about what you said last week, you know, those rude comments about the Yule ball."
"Yeah, but I already apologized yesterday and told her that I didn't mean to offend her!" James flailed his arms around when he exclaimed it.
"But she's still only hanging out with anyone but me," he whined. "Peter studied with her, Pads got a 'good morning' this morning and you're still talking to eachother.
Remus gave him an unimpressed look at his whining but James was not done complaining yet.
"She keeps spending all her time with the girls while she doesn't even seem to be fully enjoying herself"
This was true. You dearly missed James, so despite your newfound hobbies, a look of sadness sometimes fell over your face, which hadn't escaped James' attention.
"And I just don't understand why she would-" He started but never finished, something dawning on him. "Oh of course! Merlin, I'm so stupid!" He shouted out in epiphany.
"Your words not mine," Sirius quickly took the opportunity.
"Oh bugger off Pads", James laughed and pushed Sirius' arm. And with that, he took off to find you.
Sirius and Remus watched him leave and sighed at the same time. "Do you really think he got it?"
"I bloody hope so, Moony."
"But it's James."
"Yeah, but I mean it's not my fight but even I realize that she's sad that James made fun of the idea of her being more girly when she secretly wants to be. Now she's trying out what she likes, without having to stay within the role of 'one of the guys'. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. I guess a genuine apology and show of support is the solution."
"But it's James."
"Yep, you're right."
Though he hadn't been able to find you, he'd waited patiently for your return in the common room. Staring at the ceiling from his laid back position on the couch.
"Oh there you are, Y/N," He rushed to sit up to face you when you entered the room. If you were surprised by his presence, you didn't show it.
"We need to talk, I wanted to apologize." He breathed out, relieved at himself for having figured it out. "Also, I've missed you so much."
You felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You didn't want to be upset with him and felt incredibly relieved to hear him say that.
"I'm sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean for you to get offended or anything," James began.
"Yeah, you already said that." You frowned. "And I remember I told you that that was not a proper apology."
"I know, I know. It was shitty of me so I wanted to apologize. Properly you know? I'm really really sorry. I was a terrible friend and shouldn't have said the things I said. Please forgive me?" He proceeded to give you Bambi eyes in an attempt to convince you. It unsurprisingly worked.
You softly smiled up at him. "Okay". You barely got the word out before he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
"Great," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence that you two had been hugging in.
"Now you don't have to avoid me anymore, and you can stop sitting with the girls to prove your point, and join us again instead." He triumphantly continued.
What now?
You blanked. "I'm sorry?" You managed to ask.
"I get that I hurt you by saying your weren't a proper girl, but you don't have to pretend to prove your point by trying to be one." James stated, proud of himself that he figured it out.
"Because I can see that you don't like it, like your face gets all gloomy which is understandable because it isn't really your circle of people."
You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face.
"Fuck you James." You said, your voice coming out softer than you'd hoped. Tears were welling up again, but you couldn't help yourself.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I do want that to be my circle of people? That I don't just want to be one of the guys all the time? Is it that crazy to think that I'm still a girl with feelings? That I want to feel pretty too? That I don't like being told by my supposed best friend that I'm basically ugly? That I hate to be compared to other girls like that?"
You were ranting and James had taken a step back, surprised by your outburst.
"No, that's not what I-", James tried to salvage the situation but you weren't having it.
"You've told me that stuff for as long as I can remember and I never told you otherwise because I was scared that you'd no longer want to hang out with me for not being a 'chill friend'. But you know what, I no longer want you to."
At this point, you angrily wiped your eyes to get rid of tears that were threatening to spill. "So fuck you". With that, you brushed past him, escaping upstairs to your room.
James Fleamont Potter felt absolutely miserable.
If anyone told James that you'd ever be more on his mind than Lily, he would call them ridiculous. But here he was, another week had passed and he was staring at your back as you were leaving with your friends for Hogsmeade again.
You weren't wearing your school uniform and robes anymore and James was surprised to see you wearing one of what he knew to be Lily's dresses.
'It suited you more than it suited Lily.' The unwarranted thought flashed through his mind and he shook his head with a scoff to himself. What was going on?
James also noticed that your hair was brushed and shining with a butterfly clip holding your hair in a bun. He wondered when you decided to change your hairstyle because he found that it framed your face perfectly.
'Not ridiculous at all,' he understood.
You looked absolutely perfect.
You turned your face a little and James could feel his head reeling. Have you always been this glowing? Was he just simply missing you? He didn't even realize that he hadn't spared Lily a glance- until Sirius mentioned her while they were having a drink - and a strange feeling washed over him at the thought.
You were running from Filch.
'Fuck I shouldn't have studied after hours, curfew was probably hours ago," you cursed to yourself and took a sharp right turn. You were trying to reach the secret passage right behind the big statue on the fourth floor when you saw the hallway light up because of Filches torch.
Forcing your legs to move faster, you were suddenly grabbed by the wrist. A hand was clasped over your mouth and you felt a heavy cloth fall over you.
You recognised the person pressed to your back immediately and tried not to melt in his embrace as Filch walked straight past the two of you, covered in the invisibility cloak.
You could feel his breath against your temple. His hand had dropped from your mouth, instead draping across your stomach now to rest on your side. The other held out in front of you to create space under the cloak. You shifted a little and finally turned your head and lifted it to look at him and thank him but you were unable to say anything for a moment.
You simply admired him.
The proximity of the two of you in that intimate embrace had something fluttering in your stomach and you harshly jerked away in denial when your feelings hit you.
Oh no.
Now, all suddenly? What changed? Does it really take one random moment to flip your world upside down?
You rushed to push the invisibility cloak out of your way and then left without sparing James another glance.
James couldn't force his legs to move to run after you, still reeling from about the exact same epiphany that you'd just run away from. Your gaze, his fast beating heart and the urge he had felt to lean down for a kiss had confirmed his conflicted feelings of the past few days since he'd seen you leave for Hogsmeade.
The following morning, you'd had the chance to properly process the happenings of last night.
Your conclusion was that you felt guilty that you hadn't even expressed your gratitude. It was rude, you figured. Even if you were overwhelmed by the sudden wave of realization that came crashing down on you, it was rude.
So you pushed your confused feelings aside and marched up to him when you found him in the great hall.
"Thanks, I owe you." You awkwardly said, stopping at his spot at the Gryffindor table. All while absolutely not having forgotten about the fact that the last time you had said something to him, you'd flipped him off and told him to go fuck himself.
James was absolutely beaming. "Yeah you do, but no worries, I'll cash it in right away." This was his chance. He would make up for his behavior and act on his feelings right now.
"How about a date?"
There was a long silence. Your heart plummeted to the ground. Right. James. Lily. Lily and James.
"What am I a magician?" You finally managed to sarcastically retort. "I'm a convincing person but not a miracle worker." You pulled your hand through your hair as you looked around the great hall to see if you could spot Lily.
"Alright, I'll see what I can do." You forced a smile.
James, who had been mostly confused at your words, disregarded it completely in delight at your acceptance to go out with him, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant. Not that it would matter because he was going to prove what an amazing boyfriend he could be. If you'd accept him, of course.
He was grinning from ear to ear, which you mistook as excitement at the prospect of a potential date with Lily. So when you abruptly turned on your heels and marched over to Lily, James watched you confusedly.
And when he heard you try to talk Lily into going out with him, he wanted to crawl in a ditch and die. He stood there, frozen and recounting how you could've interpreted that wrongly.
You returned to him after a while with an apologetic smile. "Yeah sorry Prongs, she-"
"You", he blurted out.
You raised your eyebrows. "Me?" You repeated back.
"The date, I meant you. A-and me of course. Us, like you and me on a date. Together. I thought maybe Hogsmeade?" He managed to force the words out nervously.
There was a long silence and James' shoulders slumped a little. Even more when you finally answered.
"Uh, no?" You said in a questioning manner. James officially wanted to die now.
"You're sweet James, and I don't think you do it on purpose but you're not interested in me like that." You began, trying to convince not only James, but yourself as well.
James opened his mouth to argue but you quickly interrupted him before he could properly do so.
"James, you really don't. And you asking me out on a date when you've quite literally been drooling over Lily just last week as you have been doing for the past 5 years, that's not very nice to me." You frowned.
"Oh." He whispered. He was once again at a lack of words for a moment. Terrible new habit, he thought. This was not how he thought it would go.
"I'd still gladly go with you to Hogsmeade though?" You offered. "Just you know, not as an easy second choice date while you are obviously head over heels with her."
'I'm not', he wanted to tell you, but it was obvious that you wouldn't believe him. "Yeah okay," he weakly smiled. "Just the two of us though."
You nodded and stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, returning the hug.
With his face pressed in your hair, eyes closed, he decided that this situation wasn't too bad. He's fought for Lily's affection for years. He'd fight harder for yours.
Part two
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melrodrigo · 11 months
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Tardy - T.C.
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Warnings: None??
Summary: You come late to a class one day, and an unexpected friendship, (and maybe more) blossoms.
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: Woo! This was a long one to write, and i'm not sure if i added enough fluff in there, but if you guys want a part two, i'm happy to write more :)
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You had been pining over this girl for six months. At first it was all fun and games, just some motivation to get up and into class each morning. But soon with every nice gesture and soft smile she sent your way, it turned into something more.
Tara Carpenter.
She was the prettiest girl you've ever laid your eyes on, with wide doe eyes and freckles littered everywhere across her face. You'd noticed her one particular day when you had realized you overslept, rushed into class, in nothing but your jamies and an oversize hoodie.
When you opened the doors, a little loud, okay maybe a lot loud, everyone's heads snapped to you. You stilled, acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on you.
A small giggle sounded through the room, and you locked eyes with a short-looking brunette.
Feeling embarrassed enough to last a lifetime, you quickly hurried over and sat next to the girl, a blush rising up your neck at everyone still staring.
"As I was saying..." The professor began, to which most people took their eyes off you and focused back on the lesson. You breathed out a sigh.
"That was quite an entrance, if I do say so myself." A voice sounded beside you.
When you turned your head to look at her, the comeback you had so cleverly thought up died in your throat.
"I- um, hi! Yeah, it was a crazy day, see- I just went to a party last night and I might've gotten crazy drunk and then forgot to set my alarm and woke up and realized we had a test today, so I really wasn't thinking about my outfit, but-" You stopped when you realized you'd been rambling, the blush rising to the tip of your ears now, though for a totally different reason.
The girl cocked an eyebrow up and gave a tiny smirk.
"Sorry, my name's YN. I'm not usually this stupid." You offered her a handshake, head turned down in embarrassment.
"A handshake?" She asked a little teasingly, but took your hand nevertheless.
Deciding you'd already embarrassed yourself enough for one day, you turned back to the teacher, determined not to act stupid in front of this pretty girl.
"Tara." She mumbled after a while, but loud enough for you to hear.
"I'm sorry?"
She turned to you and tilted her head a bit, like staring hard enough would allow her to read your mind.
"My name's Tara." She said, giving you another soft smile.
You felt your lips start to tug upwards at the ends, and a giddy feeling, like butterflies entered your stomach.
"Pleased to meet you, Tara."
_
The both of you never talked about the routine you got into, but ever since that first day, when you walked into class and scanned the room, you would always look for Tara first.
She would always leave a seat beside her for you, death glaring anyone that tried to sit in it.
It was a comfortable situation, and you were content in being in her company, even though it was only for a few hours.
You’d bring her and yourself some coffee, quickly remembering what her go-to order was.
Sometimes you guys would study together in the library, throwing flirty comments and looking at each other longer than friends should.
You couldn’t help but get distracted sometimes in class, what with such a gorgeous girl next to you, how could you not?
Unbeknownst to you, Tara would also sneak some peeks in, but she was a lot more discreet about it. You never caught her staring once.
-
But on one random Tuesday morning, she wasn't there. It was weird of Tara to not be there before you, since you were always late, but you shrugged it off and figured she might've gotten lost on the way to class. She would never miss a class in her life. You brushed the nagging feeling in your chest away.
Halfway through the lesson, the nagging feeling turned into outright worry. Tara would never miss a class without an important reason, and if she did, she would have at least texted you about it. The two of you had grown pretty close in the last semester.
y/n: Hey, are you okay?
She never answered.
As soon as the class ended, you sprinted outside and started running.
Finding the way to Tara's apartment was a bit challenging, seeing as though you'd never been there before. But Tara had given the address to you once, during a frat party you attended together.
You swayed on the heels of your feet anxiously, hoping Tara was home and not out somewhere dangerous. You had heard news of a new killer around, though you didn't pay it much attention. You certainly didn't want Tara to be one of his victims though.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A girl you'd never seen before opens the door, expression clearly annoyed. She looked a bit like Tara, but her demeanor was all dark and gloomy, completely unlike Tara.
"Um...is Tara home?" You mumbled, starting to feel small under her intense gaze.
"And who the hell are you? " She asked, eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed in front of her chest.
"YN?" Came a voice from inside, and you immediately recognized it as Tara's.
The girl at the door was pushed aside gently, and you looked down to see Tara, a curious expression painting her face.
"Ohmygod i'm so glad your okay. I was so worried I thought that psycho killer might've gotten you." You mumbled as you pulled her in for a tight embrace, her face nuzzling in the side of your neck. A small giggle erupted from the girl, and she held you a little tighter.
You stayed like that for a while, until someone loudly cleared their throat beside you.
You pulled away quickly, forgetting that there were other people present, and straightened up, raising your hand to the girl who greeted you at the door.
“Sam? Is everything okay?” Came a male voice from inside the apartment.
“Yeah, we’re good Chad!” She shouted back, still eyeing you like you were scum on earth.
You took a breath and stepped forward, raising your hand and meeting her eye.
"Hi. I'm YN." She eyed your hand, arms still crossed and very much still looking furious.
"A handshake?" She shot Tara a look, expressing something like a "really? this is the one you pick?"
"Yeah i'm sorry if i'm intruding, I just wanted to make sure Tara was okay since she didn't come to class today." You explained.
The older girl was fast to snap back, "You are, and you've seen her, so you should leave now."
"Sam!" Tara exclaimed, taking a hold of your wrist to prevent you from leaving.
"It's okay Tara, I don't mind. As long as I know you’re okay, then I’m good." You whispered, making sure she looked you in the eye to express how serious you were.
Her eyes softened a little, before turning to Sam and speaking slowly.
"He must've saw her come up. We can't let her go. She might get attacked."
You furrowed your eyebrows, starting to get confused about what they were talking about.
Sam must've saw the look in Tara's eyes, because she rebuffed her immediately, glaring at you as she said, "Absolutely not. I know nothing about her, you know nothing about her. For all we know, she's the killer!"
At that you step in.
"Woah, woah woah. I just gotta defend myself here and say I don't know what you're talking about right now, but I am most definitely not a killer." You winked at the older girl, trying to keep the mood light.
Oh shit. That sounds exactly like something a killer would say.
"I mean-! I'm just Tara's friend, I wanted to make sure she was okay. She never misses class so I came to check on her." You hurried out, seeing the look of suspicion growing on Sam's face.
"Please, Sam. How many innocent people are you gonna let die? And if she is the killer, then we'll have her right here with us! We'll keep an eye on her." Tara pleaded, though her tone was more pressed than anything.
Sam let out a scoff, and walked away, further into their apartment.
You’re left standing in the hallway corridor, not really sure what just happened.
"I guess that's a yes." Tara sing-songed and smiled at you, pulling you in and closing the door and giving you a peck on the cheek.
Your eyes widened and you tried your best not to gulp, but by the way Tara's smile turned even bigger, you know you failed.
"Come on, let's go meet the others." She tugged on your wrist, which she was still keeping a death grip on. Effectively dragging you forward to the living room.
You snap out of your daze and start to follow her, but not before asking a question you should’ve asked about five minutes before.
"What's this about me being a killer again?"
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brattyfork · 6 months
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i haven’t
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summary: matt feels insecure still being a virgin, his best friend helps him out
warnings: sex obviously, matt being kind of a sub, nothing super crazy, very long tho sorry
i havent 💚3
matt and i have been best friends since high school, he was always more of the shy one in our friendship. this resulted in us having two very different high school experiences, i had the very stereotypical “ideal” experience, parties, drinking, sex, all the lame school dances, football games, you name it, i probably did it. matt, however, had almost the complete opposite, unfortunately his anxiety usually got the best of him and he ended up hanging out with a few close friends (including me) and his brothers, which was still super fun but he stayed in his comfort zone. i convinced matt, with chris’ help, to come to a few parties but aside from getting high once he didn’t really participate in them. all of this to say, i was pretty experienced while matt was a sober virgin. i know that sounds harsh but it never bothered me or him as far as i knew. i obviously wanted to have fun with my best friend but it never distanced us, it was his choice and i respected it.
this brings us to now, i’m 20 and living with matt and his two triplet brothers. matt had come out of his shell a considerable amount but still never felt the need to do anything crazy.
we were sitting in our living room bored out of our minds when nick suggested we play a game. i suggested truth or dare but none of us wanted to get up so chris said we should play never have i ever. nick made fun of him for picking something so middle school but no one had any better ideas so we went with it.
it started out pretty tame, “nhie pooped my pants” “nhie cried at school” “nhie fallen down the stairs” before chris raised the stakes. “nhie kissed someone” i was confused why he asked this because we all had and we all knew that. i put my finger down, turning to matt who was red in the face and realized why chris asked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
senior year, matt was feeling really bad about not having had his first kiss before he graduated high school. he was complaining and moping so much that i finally suggested i could be his first kiss. he turned beet red and began asking me a dozen questions.
“won’t it be weird?”
“not if we don’t make it weird”
“what if i’m bad?”
“you can’t really be bad at it, plus if you were i wouldn’t care”
“are you sure about this?”
“yeah if it’ll make you stop sulking in self pity”
he rolled his eyes at me, “you’re not gonna make fun of me are you?”
i tilted my head at him, “matt, have i ever genuinely made fun of you?” he shook his head.
“just close your eyes, i’ll take the lead”
he took a deep breath before closing his eyes. i leaned over, a little nervous myself, took his face in my hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. he kissed back for a moment before i pulled away, him subconsciously chasing my lips. it was actually one of the nicest kisses i’ve ever had, his lips were soft and he was gentle, most guys just tried to eat my face. once we had both pulled back and opened our eyes we started giggling which turned into stomach-churning laughter. we just couldn’t help it, it was funny. we didn’t talk about it anymore after that, other than him updating his brothers on what had happened.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
chris could be a dick sometimes, giving his brothers a hard time and unfortunately, matt was an easy target. i kicked chris’ leg, giving him a stern look.
“ow! what the hell dude?”
“don’t be a dick”
we moved on, more questions about embarrassing things and a few rounds later it was chris’ turn again.
“nhie had sex” chris giggled
chris and i put a finger down, while nick and matt’s stayed up.
“did someone slip asshole pills into your pepsi?”
they all chuckled at my comment, but it wasn’t really a joke.
“i think we should quit while we’re ahead, are you guys hungry?” they all nodded. nick and chris began bickering about where we should eat while we were all getting our shoes on.
“do you wanna drive or do you want me to?” i asked matt
“i don’t care” he didn’t sound angry, more defeated
“okay, i can drive” i gave him a soft smile.
we loaded into the car, nick taking his usual spot in the back. chris tried to sit up front, he normally sat there when matt drove and sometimes when i did. i shot him a glare, him letting out a sigh and scooting in next to nick. matt took his seat in the front, sometimes he would ask for aux but he just went on his phone and said nothing. chris chimed in from the back.
“can i…?” he asked referring to the music, i nodded my head at him, seeing as i didn’t wanna pick anything and matt was occupied.
we decided on a coney island, wanting to sit down opposed to getting fast food. we got a booth, chris and nick sitting across from matt and i. matt was particularly quiet tonight and i could tell something was wrong. i noticed he was twiddling his thumbs in his lap and quickly grabbed his hand, interlacing our fingers and resting our hands on his thigh. this was normal for us, we held hands sometimes when one of us noticed the other was stressed. he looked up from his lap and gave me a small smile before slowly joining the conversation. matt seemed to be acting like his normal self again but i could tell something was still bothering him.
we finished our food and made our way back to the house, chris and nick decided to retire to bed while matt and i weren’t super tired yet. we grabbed a few snacks before heading to my room, which was on the first floor while the boys’ were on the second, mainly so we didn’t have to worry about waking up nick and chris.
we turned on adventure time and matt rested his head on my lap while we both scrolled aimlessly through our phones. after about two episodes, matt put his phone down and just stared at the ceiling.
“are you good?” i asked, concerned about his strange behavior.
“when did you lose your virginity?”
i was taken a back by his question but answered nonetheless.
“uhh summer after sophomore year i think”
he didn’t say anything.
“why do you ask?”
“do you think it’s weird i’m still a virgin?”
“no matt, not at all”
“i think it’s weird”
“do you think it’s weird that nick is a virgin?”
“no but he’s at least done stuff, all i’ve done is kissed you, no offense”
i giggled, “none taken matty, the time just hasn’t been right yet. you’ll meet a girl and hit it off, you’ll know.”
“yeah…” he trailed off, like he had more to say.
“you know you can tell or ask me anything right?”
“if you don’t want to, you can tell me to fuck off and we can forget this ever happened…” he paused for a moment “w-would you have sex with me?”
“are you sure you want to? we don’t have to do anything you don’t want”
“yes i want to, i’m sick of being a 20 year old virgin” he chuckled. i let out a few giggles too before our laughter died down.
when i looked at him now, his eyes were dark with need and desperation. i took his face in my hands and pulled him into a deep kiss. i hadn’t had a kiss like matt’s since senior year, i tried to push it out of my head but it was hard. it was like fireworks were going off inside my head when our lips touched, i had never felt that with anyone else.
the kiss got more heated, i wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself onto his lap, causing him to whimper at the pressure. i smiled into the kiss, his noises giving me more confidence as i ground my hips into his lap. he almost completely pulled away from the kiss as a desperate whine escaped his lips. i smiled at him before making my way to his neck, placing wet kisses along it up to his ear.
“i love the noises you make” i whispered before sucking a purple mark into his neck, more beautiful sounds leaving his lips while his hands trailed down to my ass, pulling me into him.
i came back to his face kissing him again before bringing my hands to the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. i then took off my shirt and bra so he wouldn’t feel so exposed. his eyes bore into my chest, his mouth hung open as if he wanted to say something.
“you gotta use your words to get what you want matty..” i teased him.
“c-can i touch you?” he asked, moving his hands up towards my boobs.
“of course you can, such a polite boy”
he blushed before placing his cold hands over my breasts, causing me to shiver. i kissed him while he played with my boobs, gaining more confidence and playing with my nipples. i let out a moan that was swallowed into the kiss before i pushed him onto the bed, leaving me on top of him.
i quickly got up off of him before taking off my leggings and moving to pull down his pants. he protested slightly, causing me to pull away before he spoke.
“can i make you feel good?”
“you will baby, i’m gonna take care of you right now tho, just relax” he let out a deep breath, giving into my instructions. i crawled up to his lap, palming him over his boxers before placing kisses up his shaft over the fabric. he began squirming under me when i decided to take his boxers off. he wasn’t huge but a decent size: proportional in length and width. i licked my lips, excited to have him inside me before taking him in my hand and licking a strip up the underside of his dick. he jumped a bit at the new feeling before letting out a loud groan from my warm tongue on his cock. i licked up the side of him before finally taking him into my mouth, sucking on the tip lightly causing him to buck his hips into me. he shot me an apologetic look while i took the rest of him in my mouth, the tip of his dick hitting the back of my throat. he gasped, all the air leaving his lungs as i began to bob up and down on him.
“holy fucking shit” he whimpered. i couldn’t help but giggle around him, the vibration causing him to buck up again. i continued sucking him, swirling my tongue around his dick until i felt him twitch in my mouth. i pulled off, followed by a loud whine of protest coming from him.
“mmm i was close” he pouted.
“don’t you wanna cum inside me?” his eyes lit up at the suggestion before nodding his head. i climbed up him, planning to ride him before he stopped me.
“um, can i do something to you?”
“you wanna finger me sweet boy?” he quickly nodded his head making me chuckle again at his eagerness. i grabbed his hand, pulling his pointer and middle finger out before taking them in my mouth, running my tongue all along them while keeping eye contact with the boy under me. i could feel his dick twitching under me, causing me to moan around his fingers. i pulled his fingers out of my mouth before moving them down to my pussy. he moved his fingers around, just getting a feeling for the area before stating “you’re so wet” i kissed him as he continued to feel me, rubbing his wet fingers on my clit making me moan into the kiss. he found his way to my entrance, pushing just at the beginning before stopping. i opened my eyes, realizing he was waiting for my consent. i nodded my head and he pushed one of his slender fingers into me, in turn pulling moans out of me. i moved to his ear. “you can put the other one in too” i whispered to him. he pushed the other in before i kissed him, pushing my tongue into his mouth and quickly dominating. he slowly got his footing, picking up his pace, my noises egging him on to repeat his actions. i felt myself nearing the edge, now grinding down onto his fingers. i pulled away from the kiss.
“fuck matty, you’re making me feel so good. please don’t stop” he said nothing but continued his motions until i fell into my orgasm, my legs shaking on his lap, still moving his fingers in and out of me. i had to grab his wrist for him to stop, not realizing he was overstimulating me.
“sorry” he murmured.
“you dont have to be sorry goof. you want me to ride you now?”
“yes please”
i spit on my hand, stroking him up and down a few times before lining him up at my entrance. i looked at him for approval, him nodding his head for me to slowly sink down. the noise he made when i pushed him into me is something i wish i could have on replay in my head for the rest of my life. like i said, he wasn’t huge but he filled me up in all the right places.
“fuck matt you feel so good”
“you’re so fucking tight holy god” i chuckled at his response, sitting there for a minute longer to let us both get used to the sensation.
“ready?” i looked to him, he nodded. i lifted myself up on my knees before sinking back down onto him. he placed his hands on my hipbones, helping guide me up and down while i bounced on his cock.
“hnng holy shit i think i’m close”
“me too baby, let go whenever you’re ready, i’ve got you” i reassured him, picking up my pace a bit, his whines getting more and more broken with every movement. before i knew it i could feel his hot cum coating my insides, sending me over the edge, fucking us both through our highs. once we both stopped twitching, i laid down on him, getting comfortable while he caught his breath.
“god i could stay here forever”
“we could sleep like this you know”
“are you sure?? is that sanitary?” i laughed at him.
“yes it’s fine matt, just go to sleep, i know you’re tired”
“as long as you’re comfortable, okay. goodnight, thank you for that”
“of course matty, goodnight” i said wrapping my arms around his neck and falling asleep with him inside me.
a/n: hi hope yall enjoyed :3 sorry the end is kinda rushed i didn’t rly know how to end it.
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physalian · 2 months
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In Defense of Fanfiction (Or the perfect starting point for your original novel)
Fanfic gets a bad rap pretty much everywhere except Tumblr. It’s misunderstood and misrepresented by its average works, seen as juvenile and cringey, or a banal point of contention between a famous person or piece of media and its fans.
Outside of fanfic that writes about real people, especially smut fics of real people, I support the art wholeheartedly. Fictional characters are one thing, but personally, caricaturing a celebrity’s life for public consumption and writing or drawing them in compromising content without their consent is a little weird. You do you. Don’t like, don’t read, as they say.
Fanfic is the perfect starting point for a few reasons:
It places you in a creative box and forces you to work within those constraints
It does all the worldbuilding and character concepts for you
It lets you write way outside your comfort zone
When published and receiving feedback, it boosts your self-confidence
It's incredibly flexible
It’s practice. All practice is good practice
Behold your creative box
When I was little I had no idea the majority of fanfic was shipping fics. I always pictured and looked for canon-divergent alternate universes. Like, what if X happened in this episode instead of Y? What if this character never died?
Fanfic demands you work within someone else’s canon, whether it’s an OC in the canonical world, or the canonical characters in an AU. These are like little bowling bumpers saving you from the gutter, but also keeping you on a straight-ish path toward the pins.
The indecisiveness of too many choices can be too intimidating when you’re first starting out. You want to be a writer but you have no idea where to begin, what genre to pick, what characters you want to chronicle, what themes you want to explore.
Even if it sits on your computer never to see the light of day, you still got those creative juices flowing.
Pre-packaged worldbuilding
Sometimes all we want is to get to the good stuff. Maybe I want to write a story about elemental magicians but Last Airbender already exists and I just want to play in a pre-existing sandbox. So I write some OCs into that world and have a free-for-all.
I don’t have to come up with my own lore, world history, magic system rules and mechanics, politics, geography—any of it. I get to just focus on the characters.
Even if you’re writing an AU, like say a coffee shop AU, you don’t have to think about brand new characters, you can just think “What would M do?” and go from there. The trade-off is your readers will expect canonical characters to behave in-character, but I think it’s worth it.
Stretch beyond your comfort zone!
Do you hate writing action scenes? Go practice with a shonen anime fic. Need work on dialogue? Write some high-fantasy fic, or a courtroom drama. Practice a fistfight by watching fistfights and writing what you see, and do it over and over again until what you read makes you feel like you're watching what’s on screen.
But beyond that—practice genres that you aren’t super familiar with. If you’re new to fantasy, write fantasy fic. Or a mystery novel/show, thriller, comedy, satire, adventure, what have you. The nature of fanfic still gives you those “guardrails” and you can get some brutally honest feedback on how you’re doing.
And, of course, the realm of M-rated romance and smut fics. I haven’t because I think I would die of embarrassment if I tried and I never intend to include sex scenes in my works anyway, but if you do want to, use the internet as your test audience. Post it on a throwaway account if you’re nervous.
Build that self-confidence!
The fandoms I used to write for are super dead, so it’s insane how I still get email notifications that so-and-so liked my fic to this day. Comments are as elusive as ever, but random strangers on the internet telling me they liked my work is a magical reassurance that my writing isn’t actually awful.
Random strangers on the internet are, as we all know, beholden to no moral obligation to be kind to your little avatar face, or be kind to be polite. So a rando taking the time to like my work or even leave a positive comment can feel more honest than one of my friends telling me what they think I want to hear.
I tend to avoid the more present aspects of fandom like online communities, forums, social media, what have you, so I get a delayed and diluted aspect of any given fandom through completed works. Which means, in general, I get to avoid the worst and most toxic aspects of fandom and get to sift through positive feedback and critique.
Even if your fanfic isn’t written with stellar prose, it’s fanfic. We don’t expect Pulitzer-prize winning content. And if your work isn’t up to snuff, people are more likely to just ignore it than put you on blast (at least in my experience, I never got a bad comment or a “flame” in the old FFN days).
Fanfic doesn’t care about the rules of published literature
On the one hand, try not to practice bad habits, but with this point I mean that your layout, punctuation, formatting, paragraph styles, chapter length–all of it is beholden to no rules. I get as annoyed as the next reader with giant blocks of paragraphs, or the double-spacing between pages of single-sentence paragraphs, but if the story’s good enough I might ignore it.
There’s more than just straight narrative fics, though. People write “chat” fics, or long streams of text and group chat conversations. The scene breaks can come super rapidly–I’ve seen fics with a single sentence in between line breaks to show the passage of time. And without the polish of a traditionally published novel, I’ve never seen a purer distillation of author voice in any medium more than fanfic.
All practice is good practice
Even if it’s crack fiction, or a one-off one-shot, or something meant to be lighthearted and straightforward and free from complex worldbuilding and intricate plots. It really helps break writer’s block when you can shift gears and headspaces entirely and you can get relatively instant feedback to keep you motivated.
Beyond that, the “guardrails” help you stay consistent as far as character growth and personality if you struggle with designing rich characters.
The most recent fanfic I wrote was just a couple years ago, for a dead fandom I didn’t think would get any traffic whatsoever. It wasn’t my original works, but the feedback on that fic gave me the kick in the butt I needed to get back into writing more seriously.
In short, I support fanfic.��I may not be proud of my earliest fics' prose now, but I am proud that they walked so I can now run.
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augustjustice · 4 months
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Children Behave (That's What They Say When We're Together), 2/2
AO3
Part 1
"Somebody had better be on fire," Steve says, jabbing a warning finger in the direction of four slack-jawed faces. 
"You weren't answering your walkie," Dustin replies mechanically. He holds up his own in explanation, the motion jerky, as though he's operating on autopilot. "Either of you."
"Yeah, well," Steve swings out an arm dramatically, encompassing the both of them. "We're fine. You can see that we're fine.” 
Eddie wiggles his fingers at them as if to demonstrate, the wave distressingly similar to the one Steve uses when he’s just been caught and is trying to look disarming and harmless.
“So can you go now?"
“Yeah,” Eddie darts a look over to Steve, the corner of his mouth twitching, “Harrington and I have got some…business we’re looking to finish up here.”
Max can’t manage to hold back her snort, though it doesn’t really look like she was trying all that hard.
“Oh, yeah, whatever you two have been up to looked super professional a couple minutes ago,” she comments wryly.
Steve narrows his eyes.
“Were you guys seriously spying on us? You have got to be shitting me. I expected better from…" his gaze grazes over the teens standing there one-by-one, seemingly dismissing each of them in turn before finally landing on– "Lucas! I expected better from you of all people, Sinclair. Thought you knew how to mind your business, unlike the rest of these nosy little menaces."
"Hey!" Mike and Dustin protest simultaneously.
Max, for her part, looks completely unaffected, and furthermore not even a little guilty.
Lucas points to her.
"Where my lady goes, I too must follow."
"Aww, that's sweet," Eddie comments, completely sincere as he looks between the two of them. Then he reaches over and smacks Steve lightly on the shoulder. "How come you don't ever say romantic shit like that to me, Harrington?"
Steve rolls his eyes.
"You're not helping."
"Wasn't trying to, sunshine," Eddie's smile remains, wide and mischievous. "Still doesn't answer my question."
"I dove through a portal to the Upside Down for you!"
"That was just you and your big damn hero shtick, don't act like that was about me. Besides, I'm the one who literally followed you into hell."
Steve's expression suddenly takes on a sly, triumphant edge.
"So you admit it, then. It was romantic when you did it!"
"No no no, I didn’t say that. I confess to nothing, good sir!"
Their banter is only disrupted by Mike’s spluttering. 
“You–you and Steve?!” he squeaks, seeming no less blindsided than he had been when he suspected it was Nancy in the car. “It’s weird enough having to watch you guys be friends, but–”
"Oh, we're real friendly now," Eddie drawls, shooting Steve a wink and a dimpled grin. "Isn't that right, Harrington?"
"Shut up," Steve complains, giving Eddie's shoulder a shove, but everyone present can see the way he ducks his head, a smile twitching helplessly at the corner of his mouth.
As a collective, the party–even Mike–shoot each other a series of pointed looks, communicating telepathically the way close friends sometimes do. They've all seen Steve in date mode more times than they care to count, but have they ever seen him look so…flustered?
And as some of the initial shell shock starts to wear off, Dustin’s expression begins to morph into something almost…smug.
"I would just like to point out…" he says in typical, sanctimonious fashion, "that I told you both you’d really get along if you just got to know each other."
Max snorts again.
"What, by sticking their tongues down each other's throats?"
The look on her face holds nothing but amusement, which is a relief, though Steve's not sure how he feels about the mischievous glee that accompanies it.
"No!" Dustin protests, embarrassment tinging his face. "Not that I care about that, just–I'm just saying I told you so!"
“Nobody likes a know-it-all, Dusty Buns,” Eddie sing-songs.
“Right?!” Steve cuts a look across to Eddie. “The mouth on this kid, I swear. How’d he turn out to be such a little smart ass?”
The way Eddie’s lips twitch suggests he’s seconds away from laughing. “Our terrible influence, probably.” 
“That must be it.”
“Never mind, I take it back. I regret everything, and I’m sorry I ever introduced the two of you.”
Steve and Eddie dart a glance at each other, exchanging quick, shit-eating grins.
“But, I mean, that’s not even accurate. You did not introduce us, I’ve known who Eddie was literally for years,” Steve has to protest when he turns back to the kids, partially because it is true, and partially because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna give Dustin the satisfaction, not after the night he’s had. 
“Yeah, cuz I used to sell at all your fancy little shindigs.”
“Not just because of that. Don’t know how to tell you this, Munson, but you’re kinda hard to miss.”
Eddie gawps at him.
“Are you suggesting that King Steve paid attention to little ole me? You’ve made my year, Stevie, truly you have.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m honestly not really sure how anybody could miss you with all those big speeches of yours. Pretty annoying, to be honest.”
“Nah, you liiiiike me,” Eddie taunts. He reaches out, as if he’s about to pinch at one of Steve’s cheeks, but Steve manages to dodge out of the way with his fine-tuned athletic reflexes, batting Eddie’s hand away.
“Well, I think it’s nice,” Lucas pipes up, before the pair of them can fall into their flirtatious back-and-forth again, deliberately shooting Mike a pointed look.
“Thank you, Sinclair,” Steve says. “At least somebody around here has manners.” 
“I still think it’s gross,” Mike mutters.
“And just why is that, Little Wheel?” Eddie asks, lifting one warning eyebrow. “Cuz me and Harrington are both guys?”
“No! Because it’s Steve!” Mike flings out his arms, gesturing to him in disbelief. “First my sister, and then Wi–whu-women! The women of Hawkins, and now you, too?! He’s a jock! What do you even see in him??”
“Wow, thanks a lot, Wheeler,” Steve says, deadpan.
As Lucas lets out a soft, protesting hey! of his own, Max twines her arm tightly around his, glaring daggers at Mike.
“The Munson doctrine’s undergone some pretty heavy revisions, the past few months,” Eddie tugs a strand of hair towards his mouth, shooting Steve a fond look. “Are there some shitty jocks out there? Sure. But there’s plenty more who aren’t. I was a dickhead, to act like we were natural born enemies, or some shit. Assholes are assholes, and we shall judge them accordingly, regardless of creed.”
“Yeah, Mike. Don’t be a jackass like Munson,” Max challenges, grin sharp. 
“Mayfield…” Steve warns with a groan, but Eddie only laughs. 
“Nah, she’s right, Stevie.” Reaching forward, he ruffles Mike’s hair. “Listen to Red–she’s a smart lady–and don’t make the same mistakes as me, Wheeler.”
Mike scoffs, but falls silent, looking suitably chastised. 
Steve squints at them, then, looking both suspicious and curious. "Wait. How the hell did you guys get out here, anyway?"
"We rode. Bikes," Lucas thumbs over his shoulder up into the trees, where their bicycles still lay abandoned. 
"Seriously?" Steve huffs. Running a hand through his hair, he finally gets out of the car, rounding it as he pops open the trunk. "Just…get in the damn car."
"What, in the trunk?" Max asks, just to be a smartass, but the look Steve cuts her tells her he is not having it this evening. She holds up her hands in surrender. "Kidding, I was only kidding. Jeez."
A fair amount of bike wrangling later, the four of them pile into the Beemer’s backseat, packing in tight like a can of sardines. 
“How come Eddie gets shotgun?” Dustin whines in protest just as one of Mike’s sharp elbows digs into his side.
“One,” Steve actually literally begins to tick off on his fingers, not even bothering to turn around, “because you guys are annoying the shit out of me right now, no way one of you rascals gets to ride up front. And two,” he holds up his middle finger deliberately, “boyfriend privileges.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up at the declaration, a toothy smile creasing his face. But there’s something soft around the edges of it, even as he deliberately leans into Steve’s face.
“I’m your boyfriend, Stevie?”
“Well–yeah. Duh, of course you are,” Steve splutters, two bright spots of pink blooming on his cheeks, “I mean–unless you didn’t want–not if you’re not–”
Eddie presses a finger against Steve’s lips, silencing him with a shushing sound.
“No take backs now, Harrington. I’m your boyfriend. Said so yourself.”
“You’re gonna be really insufferable about this, aren’t you?” Once again, Steve’s smile really undercuts his put upon sigh.
“You bet your sweet ass I am.”
“Ew!” Mike protests at the same moment Dustin squawks, “Don’t talk about his ass! There are children present!”
“Really, Henderson? Children?” Steve finally cranes to look at them over his shoulder, one eyebrow quirked up sardonically. “That’s not what you said last week, when you tried to talk me into buying you beer.”
“You tell ‘em, sweetheart!”
Max rolls her eyes. “Can we please just go? Preferably before you two and your sickening sweetness gives me a cavity?”
And their bickering doesn’t quiet the entire ride back into the neighborhoods of Hawkins.
---
As they pull up in front of their first stop of the night–the Wheelers and the Sinclairs–Steve catches Eddie’s eye, then turns to face the four teens in the backseat again. 
“Look, before you get out,” he starts, stilling Lucas and Mike, each with a hand on their respective door handles, “I just wanted to say…it’s cool, you know, that you guys worry. I get it. But, we’re all okay now. Yeah?”
“What were you doing out by Lover’s Lake?” Dustin asks, a hint of an accusation in his voice. 
“Other than the obvious, like we tried to tell you?” Max snarks back. 
“That one’s on me, Henderson,” Eddie raises a hand, like he’s just been reluctantly called on in class. “Supply run. We decided to make a night of it.”
Both Dustin and Mike’s faces screw up at the way Eddie waggles his eyebrows suggestively, while Max simply elbows Dustin in admonishment from her perch on Lucas’s lap.
“But, no need to worry, kiddos. I’ve got Harrington, now. I’ll protect him from the big bad world,” Eddie winks as Steve shoots him an exasperated but fond look.
“What I’m trying to say,” Steve starts pointedly, steering the conversation back on track, “is maybe it’s time we, I don’t know–stopped worrying so much, and let ourselves be stupid teenagers for a while? That goes for you guys, too.” He wags a finger at them. “But not too stupid, okay? I’m still responsible for you shitheads.”
As a collective, they sigh out, We know, Steve, before Lucas and Mike finally climb out of the car. 
But, despite their show of annoyance, as Steve and Eddie drop them off one-by-one, watching until they each make it inside, the party members all arrive home secure in the knowledge that these days the lake is just a lake, their babysitter and dungeon master safe. And maybe, just maybe, the four of them sleep a little sounder in their beds that night, realizing they might finally get the chance to be stupid teenagers, too, with nothing more than too nosey friends out there waiting for them in the dark.
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lady-ashfade · 6 months
Text
Yandere Romantic Class 1-A With A Darling Who Is Touchy And Flirty
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—£ This about how the class would react! I have just been in the mode to write for mha so that’s what I’m doing. Also love the yandere class with all my might.
—£ Warnings: Suggest themes, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, reader being very flirty, revealing clothing.
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The class had a handful with dealing with you. it was always so much when you started right off the bat with giving them hugs or touching them in smalls ways. to you it wasn’t a big deal and you were just being you, you had no clue that they thought it was romantic. sweet little thing you were to not noticing how feral your classmates were with you.
Each of them always tries to get you to touch them in any kind of way. If you wanted to lay your head on their shoulders, give them a high five? Anything is okay.
Quickly they realized you just did physical touch to show you care, or that you had a flirty personality. You never noticed how truly dazed and embarrassed they got when you flirted with one of them. Or, the death glares they sent to the other that had your attention.
Bakugo was one to quickly pull you around. he’d pull you by the waist and make you walk with him while he yells at you(He’s to flustered to do anything else). He’d give you pointers on how “Not to suck.” when you train. even saying he needs help dealing with those shitty extras he is friends with.
Bakugo gets so red when you touch his muscles and his chest when you praise him for a job well done. he could have beat you in a training match but here you are praising him. “You’ll be a great hero.” You’d wink at him and tell him to remember you when the time comes. but how could he ever forget you!
The class always watched out for you when they needed to. like once they saw you with a person from class 1-b and you put your precious hands on that person. oh boy did they get pissed. they let you out of sight for a minute and here someone is taking advantage of you. don’t you know that smile and praise is only for them, along with your sweet touches.
“We missed you,” Mina spoke as she held you close as the class surrounded you. “Dumbass, stop talking to those fuckin’ idoits.” The loud blonde growled.
You only giggled and smiled, “They were really nice guys. no need to worry,” you smirked “you guys are the only classmates I want.”
Their hearts melted there.
Soon, they got more comfortable with your attention. So much that they couldn’t go without them. They pouted when you didn’t hug them when you walked into class, or anything else. And of course that counted how much you hugged the others and made you do the same.
But, the more time went on your flirting was taken seriously, of course unnoticed to you. the dekusquad and bakusqaud would fight over who you actually like. the others would get jealous and maybe comment, but they would share. they would do anything for their darling.
If you are more masculine then you could touch the guys more because it wouldn’t be considered “Inappropriate” even if you are innocent. like feeling their chest and shoulders to comment them. The boys loved that, because they got to smirk at the girls.
Now if you are more feminine then the girls made you cuddle them, no matter what actually. throw your arms around the waist, or pull you so close to their bodies. the girls are bad because they are into PDA. Like, the boys touch you if you allow them- But the girls? They are touching you all the time.
“Aren’t you the cutest,” Ochako coo’d at your puffy cheeks full of food, you looked like a deer in headlights as you continued to chew. “They have sauce on their cheek, kero.” Tsu chirped up from beside you.
“Here let me!” Momo took a napkin and whipped off your pretty cheek. “Much better.” You thanked her and continued to eat. you were used to your friends behavior so it wasn’t a problem, though sometimes you found it weird.
“I made you a playlist.” Jiro said as a buzz at your phone went off. She had stayed up all night looking for songs that you’d like, maybe even praise her for it later.
But the class fond over you not matter what you are. you’re their darling. you can get anything you want if you bat your eyes at them.
in training they put on a show for you just so they get get your praise at who wins. it’s almost a blood bath each time. the class is constantly fighting over you. And will fight anyone who is not them because it’s only them who can have you.
Just be careful not to make them faint with your actions because it’s easy. Their pretty little thing.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 6 months
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Would you write something where the reader feels some kind of insecurity and by talking about it with Spencer she feels better? Only if you want!
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“Spencer,” you murmured from the front desk.
It was already night in the bullpen and there were only the two of you left, so your friend didn't even look up from the reports he was reviewing to respond to you.
"Yeah?"
“Do you think I'm weird?”
"Definitely"
The response had been sudden and playful, probably without any intention of hurting you, but the pencil crashing into his long, golden hair forced him to look at you only for him to realize that you were expecting a different kind of response.
“I'm serious,” you insisted, a little sterner than the first time you spoke.
Spencer observed your lightly made-up face with a smile, not too much to make you look vulgar but enough to enhance your features, and stopped to connect with your eyes, obviously restless.
"Why do you ask me that?"
“Do you think I am?”
“There are many kinds of weirdness, sometimes they don't necessarily involve something bad.”
“Yeah, but I mean like awkward weirdness. You know, those people who are suddenly too loud or too annoying or too… I don't know, just like they don't fit in.”
The tone of genuine concern made him frown and he suddenly wondered why you were having those kinds of thoughts. Had the team done anything to make you feel this way? Spencer wasn't very good with social cues and that's why he constantly felt like a weirdo, but he never believed that someone like you would have those kinds of fears.
You were always so kind and pure, like you didn't care about anything. You had a lovely way of saying things and you brought joy wherever you were. You and Garcia were the best of friends because of that, thanks to the surprising optimism you both seemed to share even in the worst situations.
And then there was him, who loved you like he had never loved any girl even with the few years you had known him. You were passionate about completely random things and he listened attentively to all your talks about why seahorses carry their children or about the life of butterflies or about strange weather phenomena.
Spencer had always seen a little of him in you and that's why he felt great affection, as well as trust.
“I don't think you are. Not like that”
“It's just that the other day... with that officer in Washington I felt pretty stupid, you know?” you started to say. He thanked his eidetic memory because he knew exactly what incident you were talking about. “She was so pretty and professional and I felt like I was thirteen again with a mean girl. And on those occasions I see myself and, I don't know, I feel very weird”
“So what if you are?” He asked nonchalantly, “We all are, haven't you seen who you sit in front of every day?”
That comment finally brought out one of those smiles that he loved to see on your face and so he took it as a victory.
“You're right, it's nonsense.”
“I don't think it is,” he murmured gently. “It's a valid fear, but if you want a professional’s opinion I wouldn't describe you with that adjective. You're not weird, you're more like... unique”
Another smile flooded your face and then you looked away, slightly embarrassed to be having that conversation with your coworker.
"Thanks for being honest"
“Don't be ashamed of who you are. You are wonderful, we are lucky to have you here” he continued. He didn't even have to go out of his way to seek praise for you, his mouth spewed it out as if worshiping you was his full-time job.
“I love you, Reid, have I ever told you that?”
“Not as much as you should, but yes,” he responded and one of your laughs filled the air.
“How about we leave this for tomorrow? And I’ll take you home” you offered and he smiled.
Spencer's voice describing you as something unique would accompany you for the rest of the night and would repeat itself in your mind every time the situation warranted it, reminding you that, in the right eyes, we are all special.
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taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @instabull @rhiannonhippiegirl @r-3dlips @missabsey @olivia’s-25 @liptonsbabe
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selfcarecap · 2 years
Text
Never Have I Ever [p.p]
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Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Summary: When Peter meets you at college and you two bond over your lack of sexual experience, you quickly become the best friend he’s ever had. But while he falls madly in love with you, he doesn’t know if you feel the same. You hold his hand when you’re out together, talk to him about the vibrator you want to buy and bless him with that beautiful look in your eyes that is reserved only for him… yet he’s not sure if you see more than a friend in him. Little does he know, you’re wondering the same about him, hoping for the same outcome.
Warnings: smut (all first time, oral f + m receiving, dry humping (semi-public? but it’s completely uninterrupted and unseen and in a remote location lol), masturbation (f with a sex toy and m with the reader’s underwear), vaginal sex – the second half of this is basically all smut), a sprinkle of jealous Peter, Professor Garfield lol, a little bit of angst ig bc Peter keeps doubting himself and thinks he’s a pervert but he’s just dumb as shit and oblivious, (all Peter’s pov <3), fic starts off with an awkward and embarrassing story lol, alcohol/drunk!Peter, (btw if first year of college sounds a little young to you you can always imagine they just took a break between hs and college), idk how college works in the usa, also I mention Peter's enhanced senses but it's not a Spiderman fic at all lol
Word Count: 23k omg, the longest thing I’ve ever written (if that’s too long for you i’ve put four ‘dividers’ in total so it’s split into 4 more or less equally long parts (the first is like 4k, second is 7k, then 4k again and the last is 8k) but of course you can ignore that and just read all of it in one go, all 23k are in this post, it’s a one shot)
It's finally here! Thank you for all the love I received for the teaser and just talking about this fic already 💘 This has been on my mind for so so long and I’ve been (sporadically and inconsistently) writing it since like September. I’m so glad it’s finally finished, this was one of my favourite wips I‘ve ever worked on, I really loved writing Peter and the reader and their dynamic and experiences and I hope you love reading it just as much 💖
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚・:*:・。
It’s Peter’s first week of college and so far he barely knows anyone. The guys in the rooms next to Peter’s are cool, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to know a few more people, so he decides to go to this party he’s been hearing about all week.
The party is exactly how he imagined it; loud music, drinking games, a pretty girl sitting next to him. So pretty that he doesn’t dare look at you for too long because he’s worried you’ll catch him staring and think he’s being weird.
The game you’re all playing started as a simple never have I ever, but somehow people are now telling their funniest sex stories. Peter doesn’t realise it’s part of the game that everyone tells a sex story until it’s your turn and he notices how the last few people all told a story, one after the other, going around the circle you’re all sitting in.
His heart starts thumping harder in his chest. He doesn’t have a sex story to tell. But if he gets up now it will be obvious that he’s avoiding his turn, right? 
Fuck.
Besides, he wants to listen to your story. He just has to hope that his usually clever brain will help him come up with something when it’s his turn.
“Most memorable sex experience…” you hum in thought as you lightly drum the bottle in your hands against your lips. “Oh wait, this one’s funny. The guy I was with asked me if I peed myself when he took off my underwear because he didn‘t know that women get wet when they‘re turned on. I explained it to him but he wouldn’t believe me. 
“He was sweet about it and told me it happens to the best of us — and that he sometimes pees himself too. So at that point, I just saw it as a second chance from the universe to show me what this guy was like and I left.” 
The students around you laugh and comment on the story and as you look over at Peter a few seconds later he realises the other people are doing the same. 
They‘re expecting him to tell a sex story now. His mouth goes dry and his brain is empty. Think. Think. Think. Think of something. Anything. 
But he has nothing.
You speak up again, pointing at the guy next to Peter, “Oh my god, Brandon, you remember that story you told me earlier? You need to tell that one, that was the funniest thing I‘ve ever heard.”
A weight is lifted off of Peter‘s shoulders when the attention simply shifts to the guy next to him.
What felt like overthinking for hours when he couldn‘t come up with anything to say was probably only a short moment, less than five seconds, and not a single person noticed that they skipped over Peter. He lets out a breath of relief as other people tell stories and no one demands anything from Peter. 
He keeps glancing at you, trying to figure out if what you did was deliberate or not. 
The only thing he‘s gotten from you so far is a second of eye contact, your face neutral but your eyes holding something positive. The next time you stand up to refill your drink, Peter follows you into the kitchen.
You smile at him when you see him enter, offering some of the diet coke you‘re pouring into your cup to him. “No thanks,” Peter says, watching you fill the rest of your drink with rum. 
“I don‘t know if you did that on purpose or not but uh.. thanks,” he says, clearing his throat after, annoyed at himself for sounding so nervous. You’re gorgeous, but he doesn’t even know you yet. You’re a stranger, yet he finds himself caring about what you think of him.
You muster him for a few seconds before you realise what he’s talking about.
“Oh. You mean during the.. the sex stories? That was no big deal. You just looked a little uncomfortable so I tried my best to get the attention to shift to someone else,” you smile.
“Thanks, that... that was really kind. Although I was kind of hoping it wasn‘t obvious how nervous I was. I just don‘t have any special or funny sex stories to tell... or any sex stories at all,” he avoids eye contact when he says it but you immediately get what he means. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” You say, taking a step forward to stand closer to him, his cheeks heating up. He nods.
“The story I told? That was completely made up. I‘ve never had sex with anyone either. And I‘m not ashamed of that fact, I mean I‘m so young and there‘s nothing wrong with waiting or honestly I‘ve just never... been in that type of situation with a boy…”
“I get it. You don‘t have to explain yourself. Same boat,” he smiles and nudges your shoulder but regrets it instantly.
Nudging your shoulder? He has never nudged anyone‘s shoulder. Especially not the shoulder of a pretty girl he just met. 
You don‘t take any notice of it though, much to Peter‘s relief, and you continue. 
“Even if I personally don‘t care how old anyone is when they have their first time, I just felt nervous saying it in a room full of frat boys. I know this year has barely started but so far all the frat boys I’ve met live up to their reputation and I didn‘t want them making any stupid comments. 
“If I was my ideal, confident self - or just a little tipsier - I probably would have just said that I don’t have any sex stories to tell but... I don‘t know. I was nervous.”
“I get that. That‘s exactly how I felt too. Only I wasn‘t creative enough to think of a story. My mind just blanked, I must have looked crazy when it was my turn to say something. You were calm though, the story seemed as real as all the others... maybe even more real, I mean what you said sounds very realistic to me considering how little most men know about women’s bodies.” 
“Yeah,” you giggle, “But you didn‘t look nervous either. It‘s just that I knew I might not be the only one too nervous to admit that I don‘t have any experience so I was hyper-aware of it, I guess.”
“Okay, I‘m glad. Thanks again.” The conversation is slowly dying but he doesn’t want it to end yet.
He holds his hand in front of him, “I’m Peter by the way. Biochemistry and computer science.”
His fingers tremble for a second. Who introduces himself like that? God, he’s messing this up before it even started.
But you grin, trying not to laugh and tell him your name and introduce yourself in the same way, “Oceanography and computer science.”
He takes a second to release the breath that he was holding in, “Oceanography? Wow, that sounds really interesting. You‘ll have to tell me more about that.” 
“It is. And I will once college starts. I‘m really excited.” 
“Me too. And computer science? That means we‘ll probably have a few classes together right?”
“Probably. Do you have your schedule yet?”
He takes out his phone and shows you the picture he took of it, and you lean in to look at it so closely that he can smell your lovely perfume.
“I don‘t have it on my phone but I recognise that professor’s name,” you point at a name on the screen, “I‘m in that class too, I heard professor Garfield is really good. I have two classes with him.”
And that‘s how you two end up talking all night. Peter walks you home and you realise your dorm rooms are merely minutes away from each other and you make a vow to meet each other again. He really hopes you don’t forget about him, or that you weren’t just being nice.
Peter falls asleep with a smile on his face and you on his mind. 
*
The next day, he realises with disappointment that you didn’t exchange numbers. He would like to text you and meet you in front of the lecture hall so it would be less nerve-wracking to go to his first-ever college lecture.
It would help to have someone he already knows with him and in case you were nervous he’d love to be there to calm you down too; make you feel less alone–you can do this together.
He knows one of his first classes on Tuesday is one that he shares with you. But he hopes he can see you on Monday to be each other’s support, or at least to see you for five minutes between classes.
He looks for you all day, but doesn’t see you again.
He’s giddy all night, knowing he’s definitely going to see you tomorrow. His plan is to get up extra early and casually and totally coincidentally lounge around in the hallway that your room is in, and then you can go to class together.
But one missed alarm later he‘s running through the building, trying to find the lecture hall that was shown to him during freshers week, but he didn’t quite manage to remember each one of the hundreds of rooms.
Time is running out and he has one minute until the lecture starts. He runs around the next corner and finally finds the hall he’s supposed to be in.
There are hundreds of students though, and he seems to be one of the last; he can’t even see if there are any seats left.
While his eyes scan the rows for an empty seat–but more importantly for you–he sees some movement directed at him. A wave.
His eyes travel down the arm that's waving at him and soon he’s making eye contact with you. He’s only met you once but he can’t stop a huge smile from taking over his entire face.
Peter blushes while he’s walking up the steps, on his way to you, but once he’s close he can see your bright smile and he’s immediately reminded of why he likes you so much.
“Hi,” Peter plops down next to you on the first seat of the row. You lean in and Peter’s breath gets caught in his throat when he realises you’re hugging him–just a friendly side hug, but it’s a hug nevertheless.
He takes his water out of his bag, trying to calm himself down by focussing on the cool drink running down his throat. It does clear his mind, the water, but he’s more and more comfortable with every second that he sits next to you. Your aura is so kind and calming, and he finds his shoulders losing the tension as you start talking to him.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it or something. We forgot to exchange numbers so I found your Instagram and was gonna message you there. But you‘re private so I couldn‘t.”
Ever since you said goodbye the night after the party, Peter has been worrying that that was all. That it was just an in-the-moment type of thing and you wouldn’t think it was anything special – or worse, you’d forget about him. But now you’re here, keeping a spot for him, telling him you’ve been thinking about him and wanted to message him. The warmth in his chest spreads when you smile at him.
And sure, just because you remember him doesn’t mean you’re best friends, but it confirms that Peter isn’t the only one who thought you had a connection that was worth remembering.
Peter most definitely also stalked your Instagram. It’s public but he didn’t want you thinking he was weird for spam-liking all your pictures–which he definitely wanted to do but he stopped himself in time. 
He put a timer on Instagram for the app to remind him when it’s been twenty minutes of looking at your pictures. Not that there were enough to be scrolling for twenty minutes straight – he simply enjoyed looking at you.
He takes his phone out and accepts the follow request you sent him and follows you back.
“Put your number in,” you place your phone in front of him, opened on a new contact card that Peter fills out with his number and name. You look at it and add a <3 behind his name and Peter prays he’s not blushing as hard as it feels.
You text him You up? and if his cheeks weren’t red before then they definitely are now. He can tell you’re just teasing but the fact that you’re already comfortable enough to joke around with him makes him grin.
He feels like he can be himself with you and you’re doing the same. You’re not holding back with showing Peter that you like him and it makes him feel good about himself. 
But his smile fades when he hears your next words
“The professor is so hot, I have no idea how I‘ll concentrate. I talked to him before I sat down and he has a really nice voice too. And that accent… But wait till he turns around and you see his face – or you could just stare at his ass.” 
Peter doesn’t know why it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart. And when he sees you further staring at the man, it’s like that knife is being pulled out of his chest and Peter bleeds out. 
“I-it’s not even that big,” Peter tries.
You look at him and now he feels stupid for having said that. 
“Butts don‘t have to be big to be hot. Little booties matter. And they’re really cute sometimes.”
“W-well yes, of course, but.. he‘s really not that hot,” Peter says, and then Professor Garfield turns around, “...okay he is that hot.”
“Told you,” you sing, a smile on your face, and he can’t be mad at you when you’re looking at him like that. He couldn’t be mad at you no matter what you did. While Professor Garfield, or Andrew–as he tells you all to call him–starts the lecture, Peter tries to figure out what’s got him so mad.
Yes, of course you’re pretty. You’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean that he has to have a crush on you immediately. Just because you’re a girl and he’s a guy doesn’t mean that this has to go beyond a friendship. Men and women can be just friends. He can’t just fall in love with the first pretty woman who’s nice to him.
Okay, maybe he already has a crush on you. So what? Who can blame him?
But Peter doesn’t want to rush anything with you. He’ll give you the time to figure out what you feel for him, and he’ll just follow your lead. He may think you already like him as much as he likes you, but it’s still only the second time you’re ever seeing each other. 
That and he just doesn’t want to overthink it all and end up losing the first person at college who genuinely feels like someone he could be friends with.
He tries to ignore how you giggle at every joke the professor makes and tries to focus on the warmth of you next to him instead. Not too much though, he’s already let your teasing get to his head and maybe even to a body part further down.
Even if it means he won’t have to witness you laughing at Professor Garfield’s jokes anymore, Peter is sad when the lecture is over. It’s the only lecture he has today and therefore also the only one he has with you today.
As you pack your things and people swarm out of the lecture hall, you and Peter stay back, taking it slow.
“What’s your next class?” You ask, looking him right in the eyes–like any normal person–but he’ll really have to get used to that. He can’t lose his mind every time you just look at him. But he's so attracted to you.
“I, um, I no. I mean, I don’t have any other classes today.”
You smile unexpectedly, “Cool, me neither. You wanna do something? We could get lunch together.”
You say it with such ease, showing your interest in him like you don’t know how it’s making Peter feel warm and bubbly inside.
Even if Peter still gets nervous around you, simply because he wants to impress you and doesn’t want to fuck this up, he realises quickly that he has no reason to be. 
Your friendship blooms effortlessly and quickly. 
A week later you’re texting like you’ve been best friends for years and he finds himself too happy around you to worry about what he’s saying or how he’s acting. You like him the way he is and he can feel it deeply and confidently. 
Yes, he still stutters a lot around you - but he does that around most people, to be fair - and once you part ways for the day he overanalyses every little thing you’ve said to him, overthinks every little touch of yours for some form of affection that is more than platonic.
And it’s hard, figuring out whether you like him as more than a friend.
But this friendship is so new and so exciting that Peter thinks it makes him just as happy as an average relationship in the honeymoon phase would. So even if he does crave more intimacy with you, it’s hard to complain when he has a friend like you.
*
You show up at Peter’s door at midnight on a Friday. His sleep schedule has been surprisingly healthy for a college freshman so if anyone else disturbed him when he was already in pyjamas, he’d be annoyed.
But with you, he’s ecstatic. He’s awake immediately, grinning from ear to ear at your surprise visit. You never left his mind but he thought he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you again.
Peter is more than aware of the contrast between your done up state and him in his ratty old pyjamas. You’ve seen him in pyjamas before and he knows better than to think you’d judge him, but he can’t help but to want to at least try and match you when you’re looking as gorgeous as you are.
“Oh sorry, I thought you’d still be up,” is the first thing you say, ready to leave if you’re bothering him in any way.
“No, no, I am, don’t worry. What’s up?” Peter asks, trying to look cool as he leans against his door frame. He ignores how it hurts like hell where his elbow meets a sharp corner.
“Well… I was gonna ask if you wanna go watch a movie with me,” you give him a charming smile not knowing he’d say yes no matter what you asked of him.
“Now?”
“Uh, yes. Now. But it’s fine if not, genuinely I won’t be mad. I can see that you had other plans,” you smile at his pyjamas.
“No. Don’t worry, I’d love to go. Do you have tickets or…?” Jealousy bubbles up inside Peter when he realises you might have been planning to go with someone else. With some other guy. Maybe he bailed on you and Peter is the second option (which he would still be grateful for, but he hates the thought of you with another guy).
“No, but I checked online and they have plenty of tickets left. It’s the last day they’re playing this film. The one I told you about, the horror one.”
“Oh God.” He’s trying to pretend that you still need to convince him when really Peter just needs a second to realise he was just overthinking again. He is your first choice. Not another guy.
“Pleeeease, Peter,” you grab his arm and pout. 
Peter has been convinced since the moment you showed up at his door.
“Give me a second,” he smiles and you grin back, “Really? You’re the best,” you kiss his cheek enthusiastically and he goes back into his room fast enough to hide his blush.
He picks out an outfit, brushes his teeth and puts on deodorant just in case.
You take him to the cinema with your hand in his. Peter knows it’s not a romantic gesture, you’re just treating him like you’d treat a female friend, but his brain doesn’t know the difference. He’s just happy to be touching you.
When you buy the tickets the guy at the movie theatre shows you the available seats on his screen. He points to one of those love seats where two seats are joined together so you can cuddle.
You nod and when the guy gives Peter a congratulatory smile, Peter’s cheeks heat up. The guy probably thinks you and Peter are a couple. It’s not just good for Peter’s ego and the fake scenarios with you that he’ll imagine before bed, but it’s also better for the guy. Peter saw the way he was eyeing you, and Peter doesn’t know what he would have done if the guy had asked for your number.
“We can cuddle,” you grin as you sit down and pat the seat next to you. You’re almost alone in the theatre, you could sit anywhere you want but you want to be close to him.
While you wait for the trailers to start you take Snapchat videos with Peter, asking him if you can send them to your friends at home. His heart swells when you say that you’ve told them about him.
He takes pictures of you looking all pretty and perfect and he wonders if it would be too much to set it as his phone wallpaper. Your head is on his shoulder as you scroll through the pictures that he just took of you and your perfume is hypnotising.
How is every little thing about you so captivating? Peter has never met anyone like you.
He’s fucking scared during the movie, but with his eyes mostly closed he manages to be the guy you can hold on to during the creepy scenes. Your fingers around his bicep squeeze every time there is a jumpscare and at some point he has to force himself to watch the film after all if he doesn’t want to get hard from your touch. He knows it’s pathetic, but he can’t help it.
You look beautiful in the light of the stars as you two walk home, your hand still around his arm, gushing about the film and thanking him for watching it with you despite the spontaneous change of his plans.
You spend some time in the common area by your dorms. It’s late and everyone else seems to be at some party elsewhere or sleeping. You cling on to Peter, still jumpy from the horror film and he nearly asks you if you want to sleep in his bed.
He nearly says it about five times, but he can’t quite get the words out. He doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression, even if you may be about to ask the same thing.
Peter sits there nervously, gulping as he’s about to ask. He really will say it this time. But before he opens his mouth he hears your deep breaths and notices how your body has gone slack against his side.
He kisses the top of your head in content and soon, sleep finds Peter too. He doesn’t have to dream about being close to you because it’s already his reality.
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚・:*:・。
It’s a few weeks into the semester and it’s become a routine for you two to study together. Whether you’re helping each other with the classes you share, or silently working on other things and enjoying each other’s company, your study sessions have even managed to make studying a rather fun part of college. 
Especially when you’re both sitting on Peter’s bed, and your knees or legs or arms are always touching.
You’re not focussed today, scrolling around on your phone instead of studying. You throw your phone to the bed at some point and you hug your legs to your chest in thought.
“You think Andrew will let me suck his dick? For a better score?”
Peter’s heart stops beating for a second. 
You haven’t kissed, you haven’t said anything that should have led Peter to think that this is more than friendship, but it seemed like there could be something in the future. Apparently, you’re not even considering it.
“Who’s Andrew?” He asks, mouth dry and voice weak.
“Professor Garfield.”
“Oh. Well, I-I think that‘s illegal.”
“Is it though?” You tilt your head and give him a deliberately incredulous look.
“Yes.”
“Not if no one finds out. It’s don’t break the rules or don‘t get caught, Peter.”
He’s distracted by you saying his name for a moment. There’s nothing he loves hearing more.
But he has to stop you from doing… that. He can’t entirely tell how serious you are, but he has to make sure to convince you that it’s a bad idea.
“No offence, but what makes you believe you’ll be good enough for him to give you a better score? If you’ve never… you know, done anything like it.” He remembers your conversation from the first time you met, and if you haven’t given anyone a blowjob since then, he knows it would be your first time. Your first time can’t be with a professor, even if Peter disregards the fact that he wants to be the only guy you have sex with, it really is a bad idea.
“I’m a young and pretty student and he’s a kinda old guy. He’s like 40. So I’m sure that I’ll be enough for him.”
Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment, thrown off by your casual tone.
“Don’t you think so?” you press, teasing in your voice.
“No- of course you’re pretty. You’re beautiful,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 
“Aww,” you sit up and press a kiss to his cheek, “So are you, Pete.” You hold on to his shoulder as you lower yourself into his lap, your butt right next to his thighs and your upper body resting on his legs, and his breath hitches. 
“Well if you think I need practice, then.. I could practise on you first.”
“Practise w-what on me?” He asks, feeling your hands on his abs.
“Going down on a guy,” you say, looking up at him. Now the feeling in Peter’s belly changes from raging jealousy into something else of equal passion. He’s thought about you doing that before, (and pushed the thought out of his mind as quickly as it appeared) but hearing you suggest it makes a new flame of desire light up in him. 
The first conversation you ever had was about sex. But anytime you mention anything sexual, Peter doesn’t know how to act.
“I- I mean. I’m not- I feel like, maybe that’s not—”
“Don’t worry, I’m joking. I won’t actually suck that guy’s dick. I just don’t wanna do this stuff right now,” you sigh, sitting up and closing your textbook.
“How about we do something to distract you for the night, and then tomorrow I’ll help you with the next assignment,” he suggests, relief still flooding through his body, happy that you don’t actually want to suck your professor’s dick.
“You’d do that?” 
“Of course. I’ll always help you when I can but I especially owe you after you did my homework last week when I fell asleep.”
You sit up, “I told you it was no big deal. It was just multiple choice and all I did was copy my answers.”
“Yeah but if I hadn’t woken up then I would have missed the deadline and failed.”
“I know you’d do the same for me. And besides, you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t wake you up to do some boring computational linguistics quiz at eleven pm.”
Peter smiles at the memory of last week. When he’s with you, he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to spend time with you. But he was tired and you were studying something Peter couldn’t help you with anyway, and he’s so comfortable around you that he just drifted off to sleep because he trusts you – he wouldn’t be okay with being unconscious next to just anyone.
“Well, it was still a very kind thing to do.”
Not sure what you’re doing yet, you go to your dorm room so you can change out of your sweats and into something prettier–even though Peter thinks you could wear sweatpants 24/7, and you’d still outshine everyone. He nearly stays outside but with a confused look you ask him what he’s doing outside and he reluctantly comes in.
Picking out an outfit, you pull off your shirt with no warning and even if he can only see your back an “Oh my God” leaves Peter’s mouth immediately, followed by a quiet, “Sorry,” as he turns around.
“Don’t worry. I’m just changing. It’s just my body, you can look.”
Despite your nonchalant words, Peter can hear your heart beating loudly and frantically in your chest. He tries not to let it get to him, it doesn’t have to mean that you like him. Maybe you’re just realising that you don’t want a boy to see you half-naked after all but you don’t want to say it now after confidently assuring him it was okay. 
Peter sits down on your bed, turned away from you even though it takes all the willpower he can muster.
A few moments later you jump onto the bed next to him, “So, what are we doing tonight?”
“Do?” He asks, still dazed from seeing your naked back, “Oh do, yeah. Uh yes, we can do something.” 
You giggle, looking at him expectantly. That’s when Peter remembers he was the one who suggested that you go out tonight.
“Oh-well yeah, I was thinking we could take a walk along the river, I heard they have these carnival booths up every Friday night.”
Going out in the evenings has become your and Peter’s thing. Sure, many people–especially college students–go out in the evening. But with you, it feels different. It feels special.
Illuminated by the streetlights and the LED glow from the booths, you and Peter play a few rounds of ring toss and throwing darts at balloons. You both swear it’s rigged because neither of you win anything.
You eat popcorn while Peter gets cotton candy and once again you hold Peter’s hand throughout most of your trip. It’s become a habit of yours, apparently meaningless as a romantic gesture, but platonically it means everything to Peter. You like him enough to constantly initiate physical touch; plus, he’s never seen you hold hands with any of your other friends.
Still, Peter is forever wishing for more. Sometimes he looks at you and wonders how he’s managed not to kiss you yet. But his fear grows with every day; the closer you get the harder it will be to confess his feelings because the risk of ruining something beautiful keeps getting bigger. 
He’s never been this attracted to anyone but he also thinks he’s never had a friendship as good as yours. He simply can’t risk something good, something beautiful, something that makes him as happy as he’s ever been. Your friendship is strong but he’s scared you wouldn’t be able to come back from Peter confessing his feelings for you and you not feeling the same.
It could weird you out, you could take pity on Peter and see him in a different light, or worst of all, you could think he’s been taking advantage of you. He’s never touched you anywhere that would be reserved only for a lover but you two are quite close. You’ve cuddled a few times, or just a few hours ago you were changing in front of him – he doesn’t want you thinking he intentionally got any sexual gratification out of it and for you to view him differently.
He already feels bad enough when nothing but the image of you clouds his thoughts whenever he jerks off. He can’t help it anymore. He used to be able to think of something else or simply watch porn but now that he’s with you so often and you’re so perfect, you’re like an intrusive thought; whenever he’s naked, there’s nothing on his mind but you, just like when a song is stuck in your head – there’s no easy way of getting rid of it.
Peter has never been one to feel shame after masturbating. But if you only liked him as a friend and ever found out what he thinks about when he’s fucking his fist late at night, he doesn’t even want to know what your opinion of him would change into. But the mental image of you alone makes Peter cum so hard, over and over, that he can’t stop, even if guilt plagues him right after as he cleans up the mess he’s made.
He looks down at your intertwined hands while you’re walking home across campus. He wonders what you’d do if you knew that the hand you’re holding right now jerks Peter off every night without fail, thinking precisely of how your hand could replace Peter’s.
On your way home, you walk past a frat house, the vibration of the music reaching Peter’s chest even from the outside.
“Shit, Chloe told me about this party. I forgot I said I’d be there.”
“Who’s that?”
“She’s one of my friends from an Oceanography class. Do you mind if we go in? Just for half an hour.”
It’ll definitely distract Peter from thinking about you in a way that he’s not sure you’d be comfortable with.
You’re dragged away by some of your girlfriends as soon as you enter. They all say something about Peter but you quickly shrug off what they’re saying about you two always being together. He can’t tell if it’s a genuine no or just that feeling of embarrassment that you get when your friends tease you about your crush.
So your friends see it too? The indescribable chemistry between you two? Even with his enhanced hearing, he can’t hear the rest of your conversation because some of his own friends are urging him to go play beer pong with them.
Peter sees you every twenty minutes or so and you wave or smile at him and check up on him every time you walk past. Spending time with your other friends is good for both of you, but it’s also good to know that he’s still on your mind, just like you’re on his.
“Help me find the bathroom,” you tell Peter the next time you see him. He’s getting a little bored at this party so he assumes you also want to escape.
You walk into the bathroom together and Peter doesn’t realise that you actually just need to pee until he sees you contemplating on pulling your underwear down or not, “Can you wait outside?”
“Of course.”
Peter has no interest in being in the bathroom with you while you pee, but the fact that you nearly let him stay in there with you shows him once again how comfortable you are around him. He’s smiling like an idiot, standing by the wall opposite the bathroom until he hears your “You can come in.”
After you’ve washed your hands you sit on the edge of the bathtub and pat the space next to you for Peter to join you and you chat about whatever comes to your mind. So you did want a break from the party too, and Peter is glad to provide that.
“What song is that?” Peter asks. The music is loud enough for you to clearly hear it even upstairs in the bathroom.
“I don’t know, I’ll shazam it. You’re right, it sounds good.”
When you unlock your phone the screen is filled with the picture of a vibrator. You ignore it and go to Shazam the song, but Peter can’t let you off like that.
You always get to tease him so he smirks when he can finally get you back, “Wait wait wait,” he takes your phone from you, lifting it high in case you want to take it from him.
“What is this?” He asks, smiling, teasing you lovingly and in good fun but you look at him as if he’s talking about the most boring thing ever, not embarrassed in the slightest, but once more, that could be a good sign; another sign of your close relationship.
“Oh, it’s this vibrator. But it’s way too expensive for me.”
Peter licks his lips, trying not to freak out. He doesn’t know why he thought talking to you about a vibrator would be a good idea. But he tries to appear as calm as you, “Why is it expensive? What’s so special about it?”
“Well, it basically sucks your clit. But I don’t want to spend over 100 dollars on something like that when I can just go out and find a guy to suck my clit within like five minutes. It’s all those guys on campus think about, I swear. I’m glad you’re not like that, Pete” you smile at him and put your head on his shoulder, completely catching him off guard with your words.
He won’t be able to jerk off without thinking about you for days now; meaning he won’t be able to jerk off for days. Do you mean you’d hate knowing that Peter thinks about you sexually or do you just mean that there’s no pressure with Peter? And that any other male friend would have asked for sex by now?
Peter knows he’s not a perv, but he doesn’t know if you’d say the same if you knew you were the protagonist of his spank bank. 
“Wait, actually, a friend told me they’re way cheaper if you buy them in-store and they’ll have more to choose from... will you go with me?” You ask him with a big fake pout.
“To a.. a sex shop?”
“I don’t want to go alone. And you’re my best friend.”
He can’t say no to you after you call him that, even if having a constant reminder of what you use to masturbate is going to kill him.
“O-okay. But why can’t you just go with your friend?”
“I’m not as comfortable around her as I am around you. Unless you really don’t want to.”
“No no I’ll go,” he nods and you grin.
“I’m sure they’ll have something for you too,” you say with raised eyebrows. And even though his hand and the thoughts about you make him cum hard and fast enough that he doesn’t feel like he needs a sex toy, your words help him feel a little less guilty. You telling him to go buy a sex toy suggests that you’re not grossed out when thinking of him masturbating, so maybe you’d understand that he’s got to do what he’s got to do sometimes, and you actually wouldn’t completely hate him if you found out what goes on in Peter’s mind when he jerks off.
“But we’re not going before we finish our assignment.”
“Deal,” you shake his hand with a laugh and join your friends downstairs to play the last few rounds of drinking games before you go home.
You’re good, but the other team is better. 
You didn’t really want to drink tonight and are only playing for fun but Peter likes following the rules so someone has to have the drinks. You assure him he doesn’t have to but Peter downs all the drinks for you and the ones for himself, relying on his enhanced abilities to drink them like water. He has one drink and then five more and when you two leave the party he realises he’s drunk.
You insist on taking him to your room to make sure he’s okay but Peter is a funny drunk so he doesn’t feel too bad. If he gets to sleep in your bed he could never feel bad, and knowing you you would never offer if you weren’t okay with it.
“I like when you take care of me,” Peter smiles at you when you tuck him into bed and he takes your hand in his, “And I like when we hold hands.”
“I like it too,” you kiss his forehead and Peter practically swoons. You were holding his hand the whole way back home from the party, like one of those people keeping a toddler on a leash and he’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow morning but right now he’s just grateful for the constant affection.
You seem no bit annoyed that you have to deal with a drunk Peter, you’re just spending time with your best friend (he hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him that) who happens to be drunk.
“Will you need a bucket?” You ask as you pull down your skirt and leave on your cropped shirt.
“A what?” He asks, heart beating harder as he stares at your half-naked form.
“Do you think you’ll throw up?” You ask.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
When you walk over to the bed Peter sees everything in slow motion. You stand next to the bed for a few seconds, tapping on your phone, and Peter admires your beautiful body while he can.
“You know how much I love your legs? They look so good,” he says, and he can’t tell if he’s embarrassingly drunk right now or not. He just knows that your legs are perfect. You’re perfect. And that’s something his sober self would wholeheartedly agree with.
You smile and turn off the lights, leaving the window open so Peter can get some fresh air but it also leaves enough light for Peter to admire your legs some more.
“Scoot over,” you tell him and get in bed with him.
“No, you don’t understand how incredible your legs are.” He gets one last glance at them before you pull the blanket over your body.
“Thank you, Peter,” you smile, and he sees by the crinkles next to your eyes that it’s genuine and maybe you don’t hate him looking at your body as much as he’s been worrying you would.
You talk a little more but minutes later the conversation consists more of yawning than talking and Peter sobers up when he realises he will be sleeping next to you. It’s his first time sleeping in a woman’s bed, and he’s glad it’s yours.
He’s taken naps next to you and there was that one time you slept next to each other on the sofa, but this is different. You’re alone in your room, right next to each other, in one bed, sharing one blanket. He can feel the warmth of your half-naked body and before he knows it your familiar presence calms him down enough to fall asleep quickly.
*
When Peter wakes up next to you the following morning, it takes a few moments for it to all come back to him.
He knows there’s no way you slept with each other, Peter was kinda drunk, neither of you have even confessed any feelings and you wouldn’t have a one night stand the first time you have sex. 
But when he gently lifts the blanket, making sure he doesn’t wake you up, he’s met with the sight of your lovely belly and heavenly thighs, and Peter thinks from the outside it could look like you had sex. 
Not that anyone is going to see, but two hormonal college students, both half-naked, waking up next to each other.. It screams something obvious and that thing is not that you two are merely friends.
The thought of it alone makes Peter flustered and he shifts uncomfortably. His eyes widen when he realises that his morning wood is pushed right against your ass. He pulls his hips back as quickly as he can, waking you up in the process.
You’re facing away from him, and the first thing you notice is your and Peter’s interlaced hands. His cheeks warm up as he notices them too. His arm is resting above your head on the pillow, fingers next to your face where they’re loosely intertwined with yours.
He doesn’t remember waking up in the night, so you must have somehow ended up holding hands in your sleep, both finding your way to the other even while unconscious.
You squeeze his hand and twist your body to look at Peter’s face. “Hi,” you mumble, smiling sleepily.
“Hi,” Peter says, opening his mouth minimally just in case he has bad morning breath.
Your eyes flit across his face with a look he can’t decipher. “Goodnight,” you say a few seconds later and you lie back down in your tired daze, pushing against Peter and pulling his arm over your waist.
“Wait,” you turn around again, “Are you okay? Got a hangover or anything?”
“I’m good, thanks. Go back to sleep,” he smiles, partially because he knows you still need rest but also because he wants you to go back to sleep so he can take care of himself. It’s becoming painful how hard he is.
“Okay. But stay, you’re warm.”
He most definitely is warm, he knows he’s blushing like crazy.
You pull the blanket further up your body and scoot back against Peter, and the way your ass pushes against his crotch nearly makes him moan. He doesn't know how you're not noticing what's going on.
He scoots his hips back as far as he can and waits a few minutes until you’ve drifted off to sleep again. He carefully removes himself from you and goes to your bathroom. You have a bathtub, big enough for both of you, he thinks, with a showerhead on the wall.
Before he can even bring himself to care about the temperature, Peter turns on the water and pulls his clothes off in a hurry, wrapping a hand around himself before he’s even really in the shower.
He leans a hand against the wall, resting his head against it as his other hand speeds up, jerking himself off while he thinks about you in the other room. You, so pretty, so caring, so sexy in just your underwear and a short shirt. You, not knowing that Peter is about to cum in your shower, so close to you, thinking about you.
The water is only barely louder than the sound his hand makes against his cock, and he bites his lip to stop any moans from coming out.
Peter cums when he hears the squeaking of your bed; you’re getting up, you could walk in any second. While he cums, Peter’s mind wanders to you on your knees, his dick sliding in and out of your mouth as you look up at him with your gorgeous eyes.
He washes his cum off the bathroom tiles on the wall and tries to wash the guilty feeling off himself.
Suddenly the door opens slightly, “Hey can I come in? I won’t look, I just wanna brush my teeth.”
Peter makes sure to slide the shower door to the side so it’s covering him and he tells you to come in.
He peeks out of the shower and you smile at him through the mirror. He catches your eyes drifting lower but you can barely even make out the outline of Peter’s body through the frosted glass. 
Peter casts his own glance at you and how you’re still not wearing anything but panties and that short shirt. You stretch your arms, still trying to shake the tired feeling, and your shirt lifts so that Peter can already see the flesh of your tits. But you stop stretching just before your top lifts over your nipples and he quickly turns to look at the wall in the shower instead.
He quickly washes himself using your shower gel, maybe he’ll smell just like you now.
You hand Peter a towel just at the right moment and he wraps it around himself before stepping out of the shower.
“Wait, leave it on,” you tell him.
In his still horny brain a scenario plays out where you said that a few moments earlier and joined Peter in the shower.
This time you don’t tell him if it’s okay for him to look while you’re changing so he diverts his gaze before you slip out of your clothes.
You squeal when you get in the shower, “Peter, why is it so cold? What’s wrong with you?” 
He must not have realised how cold it was, but once he got into the shower he only cared about coming, and he blocked everything else out. By the time he was washing his body, he must have become used to the temperature already and didn’t notice.
Peter brushes his teeth with his second toothbrush that he’s got in your bathroom and quickly goes into your bedroom so he won’t be in the same room as you while you’re naked and he’s only got a towel wrapped around him.
You come out dressed in the clothes you took into the bathroom with you.
“Sorry that I used your shower,” Peter says, sitting on your bed with nothing but your towel.
“You’re welcome here whenever and welcome to use whatever, you know that. But showering that cold should be a crime,” you smile at him, “Should I get you some clothes?”
You go to Peter’s room to get clothes for him and he changes into them in your bathroom.
“I know it’s the weekend but can we get that assignment done today? I wanna go buy my vibrator soon,” you pout.
Peter forgot all about that. How is he supposed to study with you if he knows you’ll go out together to buy a sex toy after?
But somehow he manages. Well, you realise you can do it mostly by yourself once you properly start and Peter is only there for moral support (even though he’s the one who needs moral support; he doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, pretend that he didn’t just jerk off while thinking of you and pretend that it–by far–wasn’t the first time.)
“Hey, are you okay?” You ask Peter as you’re both on your way to buy your stupid vibrator that Peter would love to replace.
He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but your worried look tells him he looks exactly as nervous from the outside as he feels. He’s never been to a sex shop. Are they going to ID you? Are you going to meet someone you know? Is it going to be all dingy?
Normally, you’re like an anchor to Peter, your presence can make him feel comfortable in situations that would usually make him panic. But in this situation, you’re making him even antsier. Not in a way that he would describe as anxious but more like a, he’s scared he’ll get a boner any second. That’s always a risk when he’s with you but that risk quadruples when you’re going to a sex shop to buy a vibrator for yourself.
You stop Peter in his tracks and stand in front of him to wipe his sweaty forehead with your sleeve, his heart beating even faster now. “You know you don’t have to come in if it makes you that nervous. But it’s just a shop.”
“What? Yeah I’m fine, pff, like so fine. I’m just hot,” Peter says, watching your eyes go to the thick winter coat Peter is wearing. You’re wearing one too. Even in his jacket, Peter could do with a bit more warmth.
“Here,” you unzip his jacket, and even if it’s only to assist Peter with his stupid lie, you’re still undressing him. You’re not helping the boner risk decrease at all.
The shop is classy and clean and the employees leave you alone (unlike when you dragged Peter to Lush that one time and he was forced to try out bath bombs and oil that he didn’t know the purpose of).
Now he can tell you’re flustered too, just a little bit. Holding on to Peter’s arm the whole time, you find what you need, pay, and put your gloves on top of the packaged vibrator just in case anyone decides to look in your bag.
Even though it’s a Saturday afternoon, the shops aren’t busy so you go to look for some new clothes. Peter thinks you could wear a potato sack and you’d still look pretty, so he’s not the best judge when you come out of the dressing rooms to ask for his opinion on whatever clothes you’re trying on.
“This is so ugly, oh my god,” he hears you from inside the dressing room, laughing.
You pop your head out behind the curtain to make sure no one sees you as you show Peter a top that, yes–even on you, looks ugly. You still look gorgeous, that’s for sure, but even your perfect face and body can’t save the Shrek-coloured thing that is supposed to be a t-shirt.
“You know, you’re the only one who’s allowed to see me in something as ugly as this,” you say absentmindedly as you go back to try on something else and Peter’s heart beats faster at your words.
It might sound ridiculous to an outsider, but to Peter these little things mean the world.
He might not be able to tell if what you feel for him is platonic or more, but he knows you feel something for him. You feel a lot for him. He feels it every time you so much as look at him. 
With you, Peter feels loved.
The love you give him feels like it’s supposed to be for a lover, supposed to be for that one special person. And the lines between friendship and more are so blurry in your relationship that he can’t tell how much is spilling onto the romantic side already.
Peter contemplates paying for your new jeans but in the end, he’s too awkward (and too broke) in front of the cashier to interrupt when you get out your money. Besides things like cinema tickets, drinks and food, Peter has never paid for anything that you bought and it would feel very boyfriend-y.
You get food on your way home and by the time you’re in Peter’s room, it’s dark outside already. Peter was surprised that you even came to his room and when he keeps noticing you looking at the bag with your new toy in it, his assumption that you’d rather be doing something else now is confirmed.
You’ve been so casual when you talk about things like vibrators and getting off, but Peter has never had the courage to properly contribute anything to the conversation. But he decides to put on his big boy pants and before he can chicken out he nods towards his door and says, “Go on, try out your vibrator. I know you’re dying to.”
You give him a charming and apologetic smile, snatching your bag, ready to go. “I’d love to spend time with you, you know that but–”
“I know. But we have enough time for that tomorrow. Just don’t break your–” Don’t break what? Don’t break your pussy? Your clit? He’s never said any of those words out loud.
“I won’t,” you help him out and climb on the bed again to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pancakes as always?”
“Pancakes as always,” Peter smiles, feeling himself blush, “Text me your review of the toy,” he says before you leave.
“I will,” you smile back at him, wave, and close the door.
Peter waits a few moments until he thinks you’ve arrived at your door. Are you going to throw yourself on your bed as soon as you get in? Shower first? Are you going to slowly take off all your clothes, caress your body to turn yourself on? Seduce yourself? Or are you going to push your pants down just a few inches and shove the vibrator between your legs?
Whatever you’re doing, thinking of any of those scenarios makes Peter hard immediately; that, and the tension from today that he can finally release.
He moves to the side of the bed that you were just lying on, and the sheets still smell like you.
Peter unbuckles his belt and pushes down his jeans, grabbing himself through his boxers and instantly feeling a sense of relief.
He imagines you lying in your bed, right now, two fingers between your legs. You’re so wet from being with Peter, the guy you’re into, all day, that your fingertips easily glide over your skin.
Peter shifts and runs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum. The warm, familiar pressure is already building up in Peter’s body, and he slides his fist up and down himself faster.
In Peter’s mind, you’re spreading your lips now, holding the vibrator against your clit. You jolt at the first contact and smile, knowing you’re about to feel nothing but bliss.
Your body relaxes and you let the vibration take over completely, chasing your orgasm that’s so close after only a minute. You throw your head back when you cum, your eyebrows scrunched together. Your legs start shaking once you can’t take it anymore, but you press the vibrator to your clit during the last few aftershocks.
Peter cums at the same time as you do in his imagination. He’s spilling over his abs and his hands, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
He lies in his bed for a few more moments, sighing as he cleans up the mess he just made. He gets a message from you: Had a nice day btw :) Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow <3
He smiles and texts back, too exhausted to feel bad for what he just did.
Tomorrow will be the third day in a row that you’re spending time together and you’re showing no signs of getting tired of him. But at this rate, it seems like Peter will never know what being with you while you orgasm is actually like.
He can be patient, but he doesn’t know if he’s waiting for something that will never happen. 
He doesn’t even care about the sex, he just wants to hold your hand and know what it means, know that it means that you’re in a romantic relationship.
He’ll give you all the time you need, that’s all he can do. He simply can’t confess his feelings, he can plan on doing it and dream about it as much as he wants, but when he’s standing in front of you he can’t risk losing you.
Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough, and who knows, maybe you’re thinking the exact same thing right now, trying to be brave but you just can’t.
Maybe.
*
Peter knocks at your door the next day, ready to get pancakes like you always do on Sundays. There’s a lot of commotion behind the door and you take a while to open it.
“You’re early,” you say, hair messy and overall dishevelled.
“Am I? I don’t mind waiting,” Peter says.
“I’ve just quickly got to shower, you can go back to your room or wait here, whichever you want.”
“No problem, I’ll just wait here.” Peter feels as if that’s the wrong answer because you don’t exactly look thrilled that he’ll be in your room, but you still let him in with a small smile. He knows that you can’t be mad at him and by the time Peter’s on your bed and you're about to go to the bathroom, you’re giving him a genuine smile and say you won’t be long.
Peter gets out his phone as he hears you turning on the water and he drops to his back on your bed.
Just as he’s about to go on Instagram, he hears a quiet, mechanical whirring. He wouldn’t be able to pick up on it without his enhanced hearing.
He hears how you smack your hand over your mouth, but you’re not quick enough. Peter still heard a tiny moan.
So that’s why you didn’t want Peter coming in. You’ve probably been making yourself cum all night and you weren’t finished with the last round.
Peter sits up and tries to stick his fingers in his ears, but even if he can’t hear you anymore he’s still got the vivid image of you in his head, only a wall separating you two.
He stands up and looks for something to distract himself before he gets hard, but to make things even worse, Peter’s eyes land on a pair of panties next to your bed.
He feels like a perv as he picks them up. He can see your arousal still glistening in them, and it’s like they’re calling out Peter’s name.
He’s about to lift them to his face when he hears you turning off the water. Peter stuffs the panties into his jeans pocket quickly and out of reflex. He stiffly sits on your bed, unsure if he still has enough time to pull your underwear out of his pocket again and throw it under your bed. 
He’s too nervous to hear what you’re doing, his ears ringing, and before he can bring himself to quickly put your underwear back, you’re coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.
With your innocent rambling about college he manages to calm down but you and your stupid vibrator are still on his mind. But it’s a good thing that you two can talk about stuff like that, so maybe he’ll get his mind off it once he asks you about it.
“So, is it good?” He asks you as you slide into the booth at the place you always go to for pancakes.
“Is what good?”
“Your, your vibrator thing? You didn’t send me a review,” he says.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” you laugh, “It’s so good, oh my god. I’m so glad we don’t have roommates here cause I did it like six times last night. I get why people pay so much for it. I mean it’s supposed to simulate oral sex and I can’t imagine that it feels the same but I guess I’ll find out one day.”
“You always have me if you want to find out how it feels.”
He can only gather the courage to say that because of what you once said about sucking his dick for practice so you could suck Andrew’s dick for a better score. The only difference is that you turned out to be joking, but Peter is serious.
He probably sounds too serious too because you give him a questioning, “Huh?”
“Well- well I’m just saying if you wanna compare your toy to oral sex then I... you know... my tongue is available to you,” he says it exactly how it comes to his mind, unsure if he should make it sound more like a joke.
You laugh, declaring it a joke yourself, “Okay, thanks. You’re so cute.”
It’s not ideal but the fact that you’re not running away from him and gagging shows him that at least the thought of Peter going down on you doesn’t disgust you. The fact that you made a joke about going down on him first, even if that was weeks ago, gives Peter a tiny bit of hope that maybe his instinct has been right all this time. Maybe you do like him back and you just need a bit more time.
“Um, I heard that next week there’s going to be loads of shooting stars. I was thinking we could drive out of the city and go stargazing. I already asked James and he said we can take his car–the truck, it’s big enough for us to lie down in while we look at the sky, it’s going to be warmer next week too and–”
“I’d love to,” you grin.
He mirrors your smile immediately because it actually took a lot of convincing for Peter’s friend James to let Peter have his car. And more importantly, looking at the stars sounds very romantic. He wasn't sure if he should invite you to something so obviously romantic.
What if it makes you realise that Peter likes you and you distance yourself from him because you don’t feel the same?
What if you do feel the same, but you need your time and it’s too early for a date-like activity?
But what if... what if it’s just the right thing?
You hold hands, you’ve slept in a bed together, so Peter doubts you will be freaked out by stargazing. But Peter can already feel the butterflies just thinking about lying under the night sky with you, and what if you don’t?
But maybe Peter is ready for the risk after all. He’ll see if you’re enjoying yourself, try to see in your beautiful eyes if you’re as smitten as him. He's realised that he’ll have to try one day and now that you’ve agreed to his plan, it feels like this is the right timing, the right thing. Maybe he’ll even ask you how you feel, or make a comment about how romantic the situation is.
And if you and Peter belong together, then maybe it’s time for you. He certainly feels that he’s ready. He’s not expecting a kiss, he’s not expecting anything except the tiniest hint that a romantic night with Peter doesn’t leave you cold. That would be more than enough to keep him going for so many more months to come.
He can wait if you need time but he’s just one man and his passion for you burns so brightly inside him that he just needs something, no matter how small it is.
You two walk home, your bellies filled with pancakes and warmth from seeing your person. No matter if it’s platonic or romantic, Peter would be blind if he didn’t see that he makes you happy and how much you glow and grin and his presence. 
You hang out on campus for a bit more but you tell him you still need to study and you’ll see him tomorrow (he tries not to think about how you’re probably lying and are simply going to use your vibrator over and over).
Peter changes into sweats once he gets to his room and as he’s putting his jeans away he notices something pink peeking out of the pocket. Your panties. He completely forgot about them.
He carefully pulls them out, holding them like they’re a sacred treasure.
Making himself comfortable on his bed, he takes a deep breath before bringing your underwear up to his face.
He doesn’t know what he was expecting your arousal to smell like, not like this, but it’s even better. 
It smells heavenly, just like everything else about you.
He bunches your panties up in his hand and presses them against his face, inhaling your scent while he reaches a hand under his sweatpants and strokes himself. 
He’s been hard since he remembered he had your panties and he doesn’t even think about you making yourself wet, your smell alone has him coming undone within seconds.
He does it again before going to bed, this time wrapping the panties around his hand so he’s jerking himself off with them. He bites his t-shirt in an attempt to muffle his moans as the material slides up and down his cock.
He fucks his fist as hard and as fast as he can, his bed starting to squeak from the intensity of it.
Your wetness on your panties has long dried but the thought of your arousal so close to his dick has him–once again–reaching his orgasm pathetically fast. He sighs after he cums, examining the panties to make sure he pulled them away in time and there’s none of his cum on them.
He wants to save them for another time; as many times as they’ll still have your addicting smell on them.
He cleans the mess off himself, his cum ending up in a tissue that he throws into the trash can with all the other tissues. He’ll empty it before you come over the next time.
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚:*:・。
You’ve been driving for half an hour now, the city nothing but a few lights in the rearview mirror. 
You find a spot next to a field, not a soul to be seen anywhere near you. You get the blankets and snacks to make yourselves comfortable in the back of James’s pickup truck that Peter borrowed.
“Look,” you point towards the sky, but Peter misses the shooting star. He goes back to looking at your beautiful face, only to find your eyes already on him.
He feels your hand on the side of his face, pushing his head to face the sky again, “Look at the stars, not at me,” you say and he can hear the grin in your voice. You’re enjoying yourself, and that’s all that matters. You want him to enjoy himself too, not knowing that your face is so much more interesting to look at.
After a few moments of staring into the brightly lit sky–it never looks like this in the polluted city–he has to admit, the night sky isn’t bad either.
It only takes a few seconds until another shooting star races across the sky and you share an excited look, “Did you see that?” You ask.
“You’re supposed to make a wish,” Peter whispers, eyes closed as he wishes for a relationship with you.
You’re still looking at him when he opens his eyes, your gaze intense, eyes flitting across his face.
“Did you make a wish?” Peter asks. You nod and slowly divert your gaze towards the masterpiece of nature above you again.
He can’t shake the feeling that your wish also had something to do with him. Something romantic. He always overthinks and doubts himself but this is one thing he’s sure about.
But the moment is fleeting and Peter doesn’t find the words to say. You’re back to looking at the stars, and he doesn’t want to have to grab your face to kiss you.
He swallows down the disappointment and tries to enjoy the time with you, his dear friend. Not many people have a friendship like yours and at this moment he just tries to be grateful for that.
“Peter?” Your voice is quiet.
“Mhm?”
“I’m so glad we met,” you turn to your side, your whole body facing him now. He can hear the raw emotion in your voice, he thinks he can even see tears in your eyes. That’s what your shared love does to Peter too. He could cry just thinking about it.
“Me too,” he says, reaching for your hand, trying to bring the monstrosity of his feelings into words to let you know that nothing has made him as happy as meeting you, but the words won’t come out. 
“Our friendship means so much to me,” you say, and it stings. In this romantic moment, cuddled up beneath the stars, is that all Peter will ever be to you? A friend?
You continue, “I‘m sorry if I ruin it with what I‘m about to do.”
“What–”
You lean in and kiss Peter.
The world stops. Nothing matters, nothing but your lips on Peter’s. He always thought he’d be overcome with great excitement when you first kiss, an explosion of fireworks in his mind and his insides, but he feels at peace. It simply feels right.
“Did I just ruin our friendship?” You whisper, and it’s then that Peter realises that he barely kissed you back. He was too stunned to.
He puts his hands on your face and pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours over and over.
“You didn’t ruin our friendship, you turned it into something better, so much better. And you know that our friendship is hard to beat,” Peter says.
You let out a laugh of joy, “It is,” and you kiss him again, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him as close as you can.
Your lips are soft, so so soft, and even in the cold night, Peter feels warm because he has your body against his.
“Could you maybe uh… slap me?” Peter asks.
“Um, what?”
“Just so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”
You pinch his cheek instead and you both smile. Peter’s not waking up. He’s already awake. It’s not a dream, this is actually happening.
The fireworks come after all, an explosion of happiness shooting through his chest when he realises that this is real.
He hugs you tight, as tight as he can without breaking you.
Peter’s heart drops when you pull away and tears stain your cheeks, “What-what’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing, nothing,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m just so happy.” Your voice breaks as more tears rush down your face but your eyes are full of happiness.
Tonight, Peter was hoping for a hint that maybe in the future you see something more than friendship between you two too. What he got was all of you. A confession of your feelings, a raw exposure of your deepest emotions, vulnerability. But you trust him. And he’s so glad you do. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe and comfortable. 
He starts crying too, just a few tears, either because he’s seeing you cry or because it’s the first time in his life that he’s ecstatic enough to experience happy tears—he’s been waiting for this for so long, unsure if it would ever even happen. All the doubt from the last months tumbles away – none of it matters anymore. You kissed him. 
“I really want to blow my nose but I don’t want to leave you,” Peter sniffles.
You look at him, “Go blow your nose, Peter.”
“Okay.”
“I have some tissues in my bag.”
You keep your hand on Peter’s leg while he reaches for your bag and half a minute later you’re reunited again with you lying in Peter’s arms.
You drove all the way to look at the stars but you can’t keep your eyes off each other, never going more than a minute without kissing. It takes a few more minutes for you to pretend that the stars are more interesting than Peter, and you straddle him once you decide you can’t go any longer without being as close to him as possible.
Peter wraps his arms around your waist, enjoying your weight on him. The kisses turn from pecks into something more, but it’s soft and unhurried. You’re taking your time with Peter, savouring the feel of him while Peter takes it all, takes all you give him.
Your wet mouths on each other is the only sound far and wide; even mother nature is quiet as you kiss Peter in the back of this truck, out in the country with no one else around.
You shift, your lips never leaving Peter’s, and start grinding against him, slowly.
He squeezes your waist harder as it becomes difficult to control himself. The only thing stopping him from ruining his pants is the fact that you’re both wearing jeans, so you’re narrowly missing Peter’s hardness, doing what feels good for you.
You stop abruptly with horror in your eyes and Peter strokes your back, “Everything okay? Why’d you stop?”
You look down, a bashful smile on your lips, “I didn’t realise I was doing that.”
Peter stops himself from groaning. He’s getting more turned on with every passing second.
“You don’t have to stop on my behalf.”
After two seconds of contemplation, you kiss Peter again, adjusting your position. You both gasp into each other’s mouths when you’ve perfectly aligned your bodies, and they start moving perfectly in tune with one another.
“I’ve been dreaming of having you on top of me for so long,” Peter says, hands now on your hips, feeling your every movement.
“And I’ve wanted to be on top of you.. for so long,” you’re distracted, pushing yourself up with your hands on Peter’s chest, your voice faltering as you hold in a moan.
Peter feels incredible – everything you do makes him feel incredible. 
So incredible that he doesn’t know how he hasn’t cum yet, but he’s trying so hard not to.
He nearly moans when you grab his hoodie harder and you whimper, “I’m so close.”
One hand is at your jeans, trying to undo the buttons but you can’t, too lost in pleasure.
“Peter, unbutton my jeans,” you say–or rather whimper, “Please.”
And even though he’s on the brink of coming, nothing matters more than your orgasm right now, so he quickly fumbles with the buttons and opens them, your hand disappearing down your pants immediately.
Peter grabs the backs of your thighs as you cum on top of him, your face more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined, so pretty and so vulnerable just for him. He cums at the same time as you, trying to hide it but his hips push up against yours nevertheless.
You let yourself fall to Peter’s side, hiking your leg up over his lap. Peter puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“Did you uh..” you look up at him, half teasing him, half unsure if it even happened.
Peter drags a hand over his face, “Yeah… I.. came in my pants.”
“Oh,” you try not to laugh, “Sorry.”
He looks at you, “No, don’t apologise, that was one of the best moments of my life.”
You give him baby wipes from your bag while you pack the stuff and wait for him in the car. He reluctantly hands you the baby wipes when he gets in next to you, looking at your lap.
“What?” You ask.
“I’ve known how you smell for nearly a week now and I don’t know how much longer I can go without having a taste of you.” He’s thinking about your panties, safely stored in his room but they’ve lost even the last traces of your smell.
You follow Peter’s eyes towards your crotch and figure out what he’s talking about, “How… how do you know how I smell?” 
Shit. 
He forgot that you’re not supposed to know that. 
But maybe, subconsciously, he said it on purpose so he can get any secrets out before you two get serious. Or maybe he’s just a dumbass, but he’s trying to look at the bright side. He’s not capable of any negative feelings when you just kissed him.
“Peter?” You ask. You don’t sound mad, you’re just curious.
“I uh, I took a pair of underwear from your room,” he starts.
“The pink ones? I’ve been looking for them.”
“Yeah, they’re pink. And it was the day after you got that clit sucking toy thing so I kept imagining you using it and then the smell made it so much more real…” he says, head hanging low in shame. You still don’t sound mad or grossed out but you haven’t heard all of it yet.
“Go on.”
“I used your underwear to um… jerk off,” he doesn’t meet your eyes until he hears your next words.
“That’s kind of hot,” you bury a hand in his hair, looking at him like you want to eat him up.
“R-really? You’re not mad?”
You shake your head and lean over to kiss him and Peter feels his blush up to his ears.
“I do want my panties back though.”
He tells you you’ll get them back and starts the engine to drive back.
“Wait,” you say, “Didn’t you want a taste?”
He immediately stops the car and leans over. 
“I- well, I didn’t get a chance to get that wet but..”
“I’ll take anything,” Peter pleads.
You kiss his nose and unbutton your jeans, your fingers disappearing beneath them. He hears the wetness and is hard at once. And that’s when you didn’t have a chance to get that wet? You pull two glistening fingers out and bring them in front of his lips.
His cheeks heat up when he leans forward to take them into his mouth. 
He moans at the taste. Sweet yet tangy. He wants to bury his face in you immediately; but you seem tired and he’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that another time.
Peter pulls you close and kisses you, he’s not that good with words so he hopes his tongue in your mouth tells him how much he wants you. It doesn’t have to be now, he just wants you to know.
“I like you.” It slips out of Peter’s mouth when you pull away from the kiss but his words make you connect your lips to his again.
“I like you too,” you smile, nearly laughing because it should probably have been obvious to Peter as soon as you kissed him. Leaning back in your seat in content, you look at Peter with those beautiful eyes of yours. 
Those four little words could make him cry happy tears again but he pulls himself together when you turn on one of your favourite songs and he turns away when you use the baby wipes. 
Before he drives you two home, a thought pops into Peter’s head; a thought that he’s had time and time again and he has to make sure that you know exactly how he likes you.
“But I um… I want you to know that I really do like you, as a person, romantically. I– of course I enjoyed what just happened–you have no idea just how much–”
“I think it was obvious how much you enjoyed it, Peter,” you interrupt him with a teasing smile that makes him blush and stutter for a few seconds before he continues.
“So, while, of course, I’m into you sexually, the emotional and romantic part is so much more important to me, and I need you to know that. But I’ve had so many sexual thoughts about you and, now that I’ve told you that I had your underwear and everything–”
“So you feel bad that you’ve had sexual thoughts about me?” You sum it up and Peter closes his mouth and nods.
“Well, don’t. Peter, in the last month I’ve spent every minute away from you with my fingers between my legs, imagining–wishing they were yours. I’m glad I was not the only one, it’s nice to hear that you’ve been as affected as I’ve been.”
“Are you sure? Because I remember that time when you said how all guys on campus just think with their dicks and how I’m different from them but I’m really not that different. If I’m not thinking about hugging you or thinking about your smile, then I’m always thinking about getting in your pants. And that is a lot of the time. And I’m sure that, even if you’ve thought about me in that way too, I’ve thought about you way more and I just need to know if you think I’m a perv or something.”
“Peter, hey,” you cup his cheek, “I don’t think that. And you don’t think with your dick. You just said you’ve wanted me for months and you didn’t even kiss me. You’re the opposite of those guys that have nothing but sex on their minds so that they can’t even think straight and ruin friendships with girls. You didn’t do that. You thought about my and your feelings and about our connection rather than getting in my pants.”
“But I did think a lot about getting into your pants,” he sighs.
“I thought about you getting into my pants too. That’s fine. That’s the beauty of liking someone, there’s not just the romantic side but also the sexual side. But you didn’t let the sexual side control you and you cared about my feelings first and foremost. Don’t feel bad for thinking about having sex with me, I’m glad you do. But you do so much more than that. You’re nothing like those guys.”
“I’m not like the other guys?” Peter laughs and then kisses you. (He still can’t believe he’s been kissing you all night). You shake your head, reassuring him.
Hearing you say that helps him immensely. He never felt bad about imagining what having sex with you would be like. It was the fact that it was without your knowledge and he had no idea if you’d be grossed and creeped out if you knew about it because you only saw him as a friend. He was scared of making you uncomfortable if you ever found out.
But you’ve found out now and you’re not just saying that it’s okay for him to think about that, but that you have thoughts about it too. (And now his thoughts are going to be even better, knowing that you might be thinking the same thing as him and his fantasies might turn into more than just fantasies).
The journey back has both of you smiling; what just happened still seems unreal, but every shared grin reminds Peter that it really did happen.
It breaks Peter’s heart when he delivers you back to your room, but he can tell you need sleep and he’s not exactly wide awake either. You kiss him like you mean it and you don’t pull away until you’re breathless.
When he gets to his room, Peter quickly puts your panties in his laundry basket so he won’t forget, and then he throws himself onto his bed and squeals loudly. He doesn’t care if anyone hears, he’s happy and he doesn’t mind if people know.
He gets a message from his next-door neighbour Brian:
Bro, you okay?
I heard a weird noise
He texts back: Y/n kissed me :)))))
Brian: About time, happy for you!
Peter considers going over to talk to his friend and tell him all about tonight. He’s tired but there’s no way he’ll sleep now anyway.
He then gets a phone call from you, and he picks up immediately.
“Peter?”
His face drops at your unsure voice. Did you change your mind?
“Yeah?”
“Did… did that really happen?” He thinks he can hear something positive in your voice but it’s hard to tell over the phone.
“It did.”
“Oh,” you say, “Good. I’m having a hard time believing it actually happened. I’ve been waiting for so long.”
He smiles again immediately, “Trust me, it hasn’t fully sunken in yet for me either.”
“Do you maybe wanna come over?” You ask, “I know it’s late but it’s the weekend so..”
He jumps to his feet and sets off instantly, “I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”
You giggle, “Me neither. I guess I was tired, but I’ll just be thinking about you all night anyway.”
You stay on the phone with him until he’s at your door, pulling him in for a kiss before he’s even in your room.
You push Peter onto the bed, lie on top of him, and hug him so tight that he can barely breathe. This would be the best way to go.
You’re both exhausted yet excited and interrupt each other with a kiss every few minutes while you’re talking about anything that comes to your mind.
“How long have you liked me?” You ask.
Peter smiles as he thinks back to the first time you met, “You made me nervous from the start because you’re so pretty, and then we talked about such personal things the first time we met. But I didn’t realise just how attracted to you I was until class a few days later when you were laughing about Professor Garfield’s jokes and talking about his ass.”
You pout and cup Peter’s cheek, “And then later I even made that joke about sucking his dick for a better score. Aw no, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he shrugs, “You just came on top of me and not him.”
You hide your face in his neck at the reminder that you just nearly had sex with Peter outside. His hand rubs over your back as if he’s not blushing at the thought of it.
“When did you start liking me?” He asks and you lift your head again.
“I thought you were cute the first time I saw you and then when we talked in the kitchen I knew I’d have to keep you because I immediately felt comfortable around you. And then… I don’t know. You just did your thing. And then my heart did its thing too.”
“I’m glad my charm worked on you.”
“It worked wonders,” you push yourself up on your hands and kiss Peter again, staying on top of him for a while until his lips feel sore.
“But regardless of this romantic… and sexual side,” you shyly smile at each other, “I meant what I said. Our friendship means a lot to me. And I’m glad we became friends before anything else.”
“Me too.”
He knows what you mean. Being friends allowed you two to get comfortable around each other first without any pressure to do things to make you attractive to the other person. Now you have a solid base of trust and you know each other; you don’t have to worry about only showing your best sides like other couples do in the beginning stages. You know each other inside out, (except for the fact that you’ve liked each other for a while — but that’s different), the good, the bad, the ugly – yet you’re still choosing each other. Happily so. 
You both lie on your sides, Peter’s hand reaching over to rest on your hip. He can’t help but smile the whole time.
“Were you planning to kiss me? Or was it spontaneous?”
“I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to kiss you for months now, but for some reason it never occurred to me to make the first move. I was pretty sure you like me but the time went on and you didn’t make a move and I got scared that I’d ruin our friendship if I totally misinterpreted everything and you didn’t like me back. 
“And I would have never forgiven myself for that. But when we were lying in the back of that truck, underneath the stars, I don’t know, it was so romantic and you were looking at me with so much adoration that there’s no way I wouldn’t have kissed you. My heart was leading me, I only gathered the courage because my body did what it knew I had to do, I was not in control at that moment, but I guess sometimes it’s good to give up control. But it was definitely spontaneous.”
Peter leans down so his face is right in front of your chest and he whispers, “Thank you, heart,” to which he hears your gorgeous laugh. Your whole body moves with your giggles, pushing your chest even closer to his face. It takes a second for him to get the willpower to pull his face away again.
You connect your lips to his a few more times, Peter’s heart fluttering with every passing second.
“Just so you know, I have liked you all this time, you were right. But I felt the same as you and you’re the most important person to me so I didn’t want to take even the slightest risk when it came to us. There were times when I thought our friendship would even survive me confessing my feelings and you not feeling the same, but by not telling you there was always the hope that you did like me. 
“But if I told you and you didn’t feel the same, even if our friendship survived, it wouldn’t have mattered because it would have broken my heart into a million pieces. And I couldn’t put myself through that-”
“I’d never do that. I’ll take good care of your heart, Peter.”
“I know you will.”
You share a small kiss, Peter intertwining your hands.
“Okay, looking back, I probably should have known that you like me as more than a friend. Your love for my legs gave it away, but at the time I didn’t realise-”
“How do you know that I love your legs?” Peter asks as he turns red, looking at your thighs and resisting the urge to put his hand on one of them.
“When you were drunk, you told me how much you love them. You were basically drooling because of them.”
“Oh.. I don’t remember that. But I do love them.”
“I know,” you smile as you place one of his hands on your thigh and he squeezes the flesh.
You lie next to each other for a while, breath evening out and Peter thinks you’ve fallen asleep until he hears your voice, “Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“I still can‘t believe that this is actually happening. It‘s like when you‘re at a concert and you don‘t realise that you‘re seeing your favourite artist live and in person, and afterwards you still haven’t realised, and you never really get how lucky you were.”
Peter turns to his side to face you, his tired brain taking a while to answer, but he’s satisfied with what he says, “But a concert only happens once, and we‘ll be together forev— a long time. And longterm. We have plenty of time to realise that it‘s real. Maybe we‘ll realise if you kiss me again.”
You grin immediately and lean in to connect your mouth to Peter’s.
He understands what you’re saying, he can’t quite believe it either. It’s been too long for it to be a dream, he knows that it’s real, but it’ll take a few days for him to realise that he really is the luckiest person on earth. 
He’s grateful that you two have something so beautiful that it nearly feels impossible.
You touch each other for a bit, not sexually, you’re just touching each other’s skin, realising more and more that this is reality.
You lazily make out for a few more minutes until Peter drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had, with you in his arms.
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚:*:・。 
It’s been a few weeks since that one eventful night and you’re spending even more time with each other than before. Making out with you has become Peter’s new hobby.
He loves that you’re experiencing all your sexual firsts together. You haven’t actually done anything more than kiss since the night under the stars, and he’s more than happy to be patient if you need it but he’s looking forward to more.
“Is it okay if we don’t go all the way yet?” You ask him while you’re both hydrating and eating fruit between makeout sessions, “I definitely want to soon, but maybe not… not yet.”
Peter pulls you on top of his lap and holds you, “We established that the very first time we met, didn’t we? Of course it’s okay if we wait.”
“Okay,” you kiss him, “I don’t mean that we can’t do anything though.”
Peter licks his lips when he realises you’re planning something. You push Peter’s chest so he lies on his back and you slot your hips over his. His eyes flutter shut when he feels your mouth on the special spot on his neck and you slowly start grinding on him.
He grabs your hips and opens his eyes again when you stop kissing him to focus on that sweet place between your legs rubbing against Peter.
You stop when your eyes meet, “You have to close your eyes.”
“I wanna see you though.”
“It’s different from the first time, we’re not out during the night. And the position’s uncomfortable.”
“Then let’s change it.”
He’s already hard and if you continue like that he won’t take much longer; but your pleasure is more important to him so he pulls his sweat shorts further up his leg and lifts you onto his thigh. 
Your eyes go down and you realise what he wants you to do, “But you–”
“Shh, this is about you right now, okay? And I’ll cum as soon as you do anyway so don’t worry about me. This okay?”
He sees how his words give you confidence and you nod, letting yourself fully sit down on his thigh. Peter knew he liked your pretty skirt for more than aesthetic reasons because the only thing between your warm pussy and Peter’s skin is your underwear. He could cum from the feeling of your wet heat through your panties alone, but he tries to focus on making you breathless with his kisses once you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close.
He holds you as you rock yourself on his thigh, becoming surer in your movements after a while, finding what feels best for you. Peter instinctively flexes the muscles in his thigh when you change your position slightly, and your little gasp tells him to continue doing it.
Your wetness slowly but surely drenches your panties and reaches Peter’s skin. You grab his shirt hard and bury your other hand in his hair, pulling. Peter tries bouncing his leg up and down and is rewarded with the sweetest moan coming from your mouth, followed by a gasp and a whispered: “I’m gonna cum.”
Your legs get weaker while you’re coming but, through his own approaching orgasm, Peter pushes your hips in whatever direction you want them to go and together you try to savour your highs for as long as possible. 
Out of breath, you’re still holding onto Peter tightly. As your hand in his hair slowly lets go, you press a kiss to his head, your hand on his shirt easing too as you smooth down the material.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask carefully but Peter shakes his head and purses his lips for you to give him a kiss, and you smile when you do.
“Oh, wait did you really cum?” You’re glancing down at the wet spot on his pants but your eyes widen when you get off him and realise how much you leaked onto his thigh yourself.
“I don’t know how I couldn’t cum when I have the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world having an orgasm on my lap.”
You lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face from him while your cheeks heat up. You get off him and he goes to the bathroom to clean up.
You’re absentmindedly biting your lip when Peter comes back and he pulls you out of your daydream with a kiss.
“Do you wanna eat my pussy?”
Peter freezes for a second and then jumps onto the bed. You laugh, “Wait, I need a break first.”
“Okay,” he sits down next to you and swallows. He’s hard already just from the thought of going down on you. He couldn’t be happier that you want him to do it, he’s had daydreams (well, he’s mostly thought about it during nighttime) about it so many times.
“Do you want me to give you a massage?” He asks. It’s something you’ve done for him countless times and he doesn’t return the favour as often as he’d want to because your massages are heavenly and he can barely get up after.
“Yes please,” you lie down on your stomach, “But don’t stand on me.” You both chuckle.
Your massages consist of kneeling or standing on Peter’s back. It sounds painful but to him it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. He doesn’t just like your weight on his lap, he likes you on top of him in various scenarios.
He’s kneading your shoulders for about a minute when you suddenly sit up, “Okay, the break is over, can you eat me out now?”
A smile spreads over Peter’s face and you kiss him, a similar expression on your lips.
You get comfortable on your back and pull your shirt over your head and slip out of your skirt.
Peter sits between your legs, speechless, thumb rubbing over the large wet spot on your panties. You gasp when he touches you there but Peter can’t continue before showing you how much he loves your tits first. They're perfect.
He kisses his way up your stomach, inching further up until your nipple is in his mouth and your hand goes into his hair. He gets lost in the feeling of one of your boobs in his hand and the other one against his tongue until you push his head away.
He worries he’s hurt you but you whimper and spread your legs, pulling them up against your chest, “Please,” is all you can manage to say. Peter’s hands wander down your sides and between your legs, his fingers gliding over your panties.
Peter drags your underwear down your legs slowly, a string of your arousal staying connected to your panties momentarily. He licks his lips and kneels in front of the bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress.
With your legs on his shoulders, Peter kisses your clit once, watching as your eyes flutter shut. He’s forgetting that this is your first time too, so your expectations probably aren’t too high. And you’re wet from your earlier orgasm and it seems to be doing wonders for you; you already start arching your back when Peter licks up and down your clit a few times.
He savours the taste of you on his tongue, sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted, and knowing that he’s tasting you because you’re wet for him makes things even better.
As he plays with your clit, his tongue in your pussy, he puts a hand on your stomach. It’s just because he doesn’t know where else to put his hand, but you grab some of his fingers, holding his hand and Peter’s convinced his eyes must be shaped like hearts right now. He’s always loved holding hands with you.
He makes out with your pussy, your juices all over his mouth, and he starts sucking your clit.
“Peter..” your voice comes out as a whimper and you grip his hand harder. You arch further into him and your eyes squeeze shut, and Peter can tell you’re coming – on his tongue, with his face between your legs, just like he’s imagined so many times but it’s so much better than what he ever could have wished for.
He only pulls his mouth away from you slowly, not wanting the moment to end. You don’t let go of his hand, instead using your intertwined fingers to pull him up so Peter can kiss you. 
You hug him like you never want to let him go again and Peter gladly complies. He wraps his arms around you and lies on top of you for as long as you’ll have him.
“I’m too tired to return the favour,” you say after a while.
“That’s okay. I just wanted to make you feel good.” 
He’s glad you said it because then you won’t need to find out that he came in his pants ages ago, yet again, and you don’t need to be reminded of what a loser your boyfriend can be and how you’re the opposite.
Peter lifts his head so you’re looking at each other, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him on the lips a few times.
“I’m getting cold,” you say.
“I’ll keep you warm.”
You smile and kiss his forehead, “I should get dressed. And I need to pee. But you can cuddle me again after.” Peter gets up and scoops you up in his arms, earning a squeal from you.
He carries you to the bathroom and even though he’s completely dressed and you’re naked and vulnerable, he can tell you’re content and comfortable by the way you drop your head to his shoulder and let him hold you.
You’re in the bathroom while gets the clothes you asked him to get from your room, but he changes first so he’s not walking around the student accommodation with a mess in his pants.
You’re sitting on the bed in all your naked glory when he gets back. He stares for a second, smiling softly as he realises how lucky he is to get to see you like this, that he’s the only one in the world who does and that you want him to see you like this.
It’s later in the night and you’re in bed, you sitting on top of Peter, kissing him. It’s not sexual; you’re enjoying each other’s company, touching each other, locking lips over and over and over. Peter couldn’t be happier. There’s a smile on his face the whole time.
“I like kissing you. Like a lot,” you say.
“I love kissing you.”
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna be my boy—”
“Girlfriend? Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He interrupts you, somewhat surprised.
You grin and throw your arms around him, “Yes.”
“Sorry, I wanted to say it. After you made the first move I wanted to do this.”
“Everything okay?” You ask, realising he’s not telling you everything simply by looking at him.
“Well I don’t know, I kind of thought we were together already,” he says and your face softens.
“Oh. I mean we may as well have been. But we never properly talked about it. And just now I realised how sad I was that I couldn't officially call you my boyfriend, so I wanted to make sure that I could.”
“You’re right, now we have talked about it. And now it’s official. The most beautiful woman in the world is officially my girlfriend,” he beams as he cups your cheek and kisses you again. 
You lie down next to him, his arm around you as you cuddle into his side.
After a few moments of looking at Peter, you start giggling, as if you just remembered something funny or embarrassing about him.
“What?” He asks.
“Nothing just, I’m so into you, and you really weren’t sure if I liked you? I know we‘ve talked about how we were both too scared to ruin the friendship but we were both idiots. 
“I mean, I tried to give you the boldest, most obvious signs. I kept holding your hand, talked about me getting off. I changed in front of you, slept next to you half-naked? Peter, I said I’d suck your dick.”
“Yeah but it was only in relation to you sucking professor Garfield’s dick for a better mark.”
“Knowing me, do you think I’d really suck a professor’s dick to get a better score?”
He shrugs, “Well, not when you say it like that, no. But we didn’t know each other that well yet. And hearing the girl you like say she’ll suck another guy’s dick isn’t nice regardless of if she’s being serious or not.”
You pout and cup his face, kissing him a few times, “I only want your dick, promise.”
“And my dick only wants you,” he says, earning a small laugh from you.
“But seriously, I contemplated peeing while you were in the bathroom with me at that party. If there was an obvious sign that I liked you, it would be that,” you joke.
“Just so you know, you can pee in front of me. And as long as you’re okay with that, I’d also feel comfortable peeing in front of you.”
You scrunch up your face, “We’ll avoid it if we can.” You both laugh but you know it would be no big deal and you’d be comfortable with it. It sounds like a weird thing to bond over, but Peter thinks it’s sweet.
“Anyway, I know I brought it up but can we stop talking about peeing so you can go down on me again?”
Peter’s eyes light up, “Yes, yesyesyes,” and he starts kissing down your body.
*
“So,” Peter asks you a few days later, “You know how you said your sex toy is supposed to feel like oral sex? So who’s better? Me or the vibrator?”
You give him an exaggerated pout and scoot closer to him on the bed, ”Don’t make me hurt your feelings.”
You’ve just come back from a date Peter planned. You got take-out from your favourite restaurant and ate it next to the river that goes through the city. You walked for hours, holding hands, talking, getting ice cream and just being with each other.
While Peter loves going out with you, he’s not sure if anything can beat spending time alone with you, in your bed, utterly comfortable and being nothing but yourself. Not to mention that you two can have sex whenever you want to.
“I don’t mind if you say it’s the vibrator, I mean it’s made for making you feel good and I’m just some guy,” Peter says, “It’s literally called a clit-sucker.”
“Sex with you is better but if you’re comparing the toy with you sucking my clit, then the vibrator is better, yes,” you move to his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his head.
“Can I use it on you?”
You bite your lip when he says it, “There’s not much you can do, you just hold it against my clit.”
“I’d love to do that.”
You grin and start kissing him.
He flips you around so you’re under him. He slowly takes off all your clothes and you pull off his shirt. He can’t resist getting a taste of you before he starts, humming as he begins eating you out, tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit.
You whine when he stops but you both remember that you wanted to use your toy. He kisses his way up your body, your arousal on his lips.
“You’re so hot, I don’t know if I deserve you,” he whispers into your skin as he’s kissing your belly. You tug him up to you to kiss him with such intensity that tells him he deserves you, all of you. You’re made for each other. And you feel it too.
You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out your vibrator. Peter smiles as he spreads your legs and lies down between them.
“Like this?” He turns it on and you adjust the setting, lying back when Peter presses a kiss on your clit and places the toy on your pussy.
You put your hand over his, shifting it so it’s in the perfect place. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and rests his cheek against your other thigh, occasionally kissing the skin there. He brings his arm over your body, smoothing his hand over your tummy and grabbing one of your tits, playing with your nipple.
Your hands absentmindedly find his hair, burying your fingers in it as he tells you how pretty you are and how he wants you to cum.
You glance at Peter between your legs, smiling and laying your head back down on the pillow. A few moments later he notices your breathing changing and how your hips slightly buck up.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, your back arching, and Peter puts his hand over your lower belly to keep you down. Your hand tightens in his hair as frantic breaths and strangled sounds leave your mouth, not able to form any coherent sentence.
After a few seconds, Peter wants to pull the toy away, thinking you’re done, but you hold his hand in place until your legs shake and he feels your belly convulsing under his hand. You’re coming until your head drops to the side and you let go of both his hair and his hand so he pulls away the vibrator.
“Oh–God. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Sorry if I hurt you,” your hand goes through his hair once more but he kisses your hand instead, “Don’t worry.”
You let your head fall back, your eyes not leaving Peter. The way you’re looking at him is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there, but he takes your hand and kisses you instead.
You wrap your legs around Peter’s waist and pull him as close as you can, “Can we go all the way? I feel so empty, I need you inside of me.”
Peter gulps at your words, pulling his hips away from yours so he doesn’t finish before you’ve even started. “Are you sure? Last week you said you wanted to wait.”
“Yeah, I am. I thought it would take me longer to be comfortable around you when I’m naked but I feel so good, and I like being naked in front of you. I like how you look at me and how it makes me feel,” you smile softly and kiss him.
“I like having you naked in front of me too.”
“I know, that’s why I’m so comfortable. And the fact that I want this so quickly shows me that it’s the right thing and also I just really really need you inside of me.”
“Oh my god,” he whispers, closing his eyes to refocus, “I have to get the condoms.”
“Make sure to hide this first,” your hands go to the front of his sweatpants and he playfully narrows his eyes at you because you know exactly that what you’re doing is not helping his situation.
After another kiss from you, he manages to pull himself away from you and hides his hardness as well as he can. He slips back into his shirt and runs to his room to get the condoms you two bought the other week just so you’d have them.
When he comes back you already have your fingers between your legs, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Don’t apologise, baby,” Peter says before taking off his clothes in record time and joining you on the bed. 
You make out for a few minutes, forgetting everything else. His fingers wander to your pussy, playing with your clit until you can’t keep kissing him anymore, distracted by the pleasure.
He slips one finger into your pussy first, then two.
“Peter, it’s not enough,” you moan with a desperation in your voice that makes him even harder which, up to this point, felt impossible.
“‘M just checking you can take it, get you used to having something inside of you.”
You sigh into his mouth and give him the dirtiest kiss you ever have. “Just so you know.. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he warns you, afraid of disappointing you.
“I don’t care, I just need you right now.”
“What if I cum immediately once I’m in you?”
You hold his face in your hands, “Fuck, Pete, that’s so hot. I want you to cum inside of me.”
“Don’t say that because I will.”
“Please, please, I’m ready,” you whisper.
“Wait, you mean with a condom right?”
You laugh and nod, kissing him on the nose.
“Okay, just checking,” he says, putting on the condom. 
You hold on to his neck as he lines himself up with you, feeling how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, making sure you’re okay once he’s inside of you completely, “You okay?”
“Yeah, it feels even bigger inside of me.”
He blushes at you calling his dick big and runs a hand down your cheek, “Should I pull out?”
“No, no. Just give me a second.” 
You both take deep breaths once Peter starts rubbing your clit – you because you’re relaxing, Peter because he’s about to cum if he doesn’t focus.
He has you coming around his dick quickly. You press your chest against Peter’s when your back arches from the pleasure and you kiss the side of his face when you’re coming down from the high.
“Lift me up,” you tell him and you end up pushing Peter down on the bed, straddling his lap.
You place your hands on either side of Peter’s head, leaving him with your tits right in his face. You tell him to fuck you and with his hands on your hips, Peter slowly thrusts into you from below.
Your pussy squeezes him so tight, and you’re so warm, “Fuck, you feel so so good,” he groans. 
You start bouncing on him, meeting his thrusts halfway, now more used to him inside of you.
He closes his eyes, trying to think of something else but your quiet moans and your earlier words about wanting him to cum in you make him orgasm after a few more seconds.
He fucks you until he’s too exhausted to move and you grin down at him, both of you lying down to cuddle. 
You don’t say anything for a few minutes, both exhausted and content, only grinning at each other and occasionally giving the other a lazy kiss before you sit up on him again, your nipples right in front of his mouth.
He takes the opportunity to run his tongue around one, but you lean back, dazed, “No, no, you’ll make me horny again,” you smile, “And I don’t think I can take another orgasm right now.”
He kisses your sternum instead and picks you up in his arms so you can take a shower together.
Peter washes your body for you, taking his time to massage every part of you for a few seconds. He wants to spoil and pamper you and take as much work off your hands as he can. He knows you’d do the same for him.
Once you’re both clean, you stand under the water for a while, Peter’s arms around your waist, your back pulled to his chest. Your breathing is calm and your eyes are closed, completely relaxed against Peter.
“I came in here once,” Peter interrupts the silence.
You slowly open your eyes and turn around to face him, a smile making its way onto your face before it turns into a laugh, “What?”
“It was after that night when I got really drunk. I woke up with this perfect ass right against my crotch,” he squeezes one of your ass cheeks for emphasis. 
“You mean back when we were just friends?” You ask, pulling his arms around your body again, “That feels so long ago.”
“And at the same time like it was yesterday.” “Yeah,” you smile, “I probably would have helped you out if you’d asked.”
“Really?”
“I was already into you then and there’s no way I would have been able to–or wanted to–resist if I found out you were horny because of me. I was coming on my vibrator three times a day wishing it was you instead.”
Peter runs a hand over his face, remembering how scared he was that you’d never like him back, “I was wishing it was me too. I heard you that one time, when you were masturbating while I was waiting for you in there,” he nods his head towards the door to your room.
“You can’t blame me, you saw how that thing makes me cum,” you lean your head on his shoulder, hiding your embarrassment.
The moment you look down and see that Peter’s hard again, he stiffens even more.
“You’re getting harder from me looking at your dick?” You ask, licking your lips.
He nods, putting a hand around the back of your neck and gently pulling you towards him, kissing you to distract you from the blush creeping onto his cheeks.
While your teeth tug at Peter’s bottom lip, your hands smooth down his chest, over his faint happy trail and eventually you wrap your hand around his cock. He gasps at the first contact and opens his eyes, meeting your lust-filled gaze, “I can’t believe I haven’t done this before,” you say, starting to jerk him off with a slightly unsure look on your face.
“Is this okay?” You ask and Peter nods, “Show me how you do it,” you urge, lifting Peter’s hand to wrap it around your own.
With a firm grip, Peter guides your hand, “F-fuck,” is all he can manage to get out apart from a shaky breath. Your free hand runs across his chest, occasionally rubbing over his nipples, making him gasp. 
“I really need you to cum for me right now,” you whisper, looking down at your hand sliding up and down his dick. Your words make him groan and before he can prepare, waves of pleasure flow through him, his cum splashing all over your tummy. He can’t stop coming, especially not when you angle his cock further towards you, your belly now covered in him.
“Fuck,” you both moan at the same time and then you smile at each other. You step away from the spray of the shower, sliding a finger across your skin and sucking it into your mouth.
If he hadn’t already cum three times today, Peter would be hard in half a second. He shakes his head in disbelief, not sure what he did to ever deserve a girlfriend as sexy as you. He runs his thumb over your belly, picking up the rest of his cum on you and you open your mouth before he even asks you to.
He pushes it into your mouth slowly and you hum as he does it. Grabbing your face right after, he kisses you until neither of you can breathe. “Can I eat you out again now?”
You grin immediately, “Yes, but I’m tired.”
After you’ve dried off, he carries you to your bed, making sure you’re comfortable on it before his mouth disappears between your legs. He’s proud of how you grip his hair, grinding your pussy against his face and how you cum on his tongue.
He gets a notification on his phone just as he’s done kissing you after he made you cum. He ordered some food before you two went in the shower and it’s about to arrive.
“Go and get it, I can wait,” you tell him, but he makes sure to kiss your forehead and give you water and baby wipes before pulling on some clothes and rushing downstairs to get the food.
You eat it on your bed with a towel laid down to make sure nothing gets dirty. Peter likes how you randomly grab his hand while you’re eating or asking him to pass you your drink.
With some quiet music playing, you make yourselves comfortable in your bed, cuddling.
“Thank you,” you say, looking at him like he’s responsible for all good in the world.
“For what?”
“For everything. For taking care of me. For being you,” you slide your fingers between his. He picks up your intertwined hands and kisses yours, “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for being you, and for being with me.”
“There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with,” you lean over to kiss him, leaving your lips on his for a few seconds. “This white shirt looks so good on you, it’s my favourite,” you tell him, smoothing down the material and then resting your head on his chest.
“Thank you,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you tight, “You know what looks even better on me?”
“Me?” You ask, already knowing what Peter is going to say and he adores you for it.
“Yes,” he smiles, “You.”
“I like this position, I like hearing your heart beating so clearly,” you say, nuzzling up against him.
“And I like that I can feel a heartbeat as soon as I put my hand here,” Peter smirks, sliding a hand between your legs and immediately feeling the pulsating warmth, even through your panties.
“Don’t blame me for getting turned on when the man I love touches my pussy,” you say, grabbing Peter’s hand into yours and away from your underwear to stop you from getting horny.
It takes both of you a second to realise that you just said that you love him. Probably because you’ve both felt it for a while; first as friends, then as lovers. Even if no one’s said it yet, it was obvious.
“I love you too,” he says softly and that’s when you realise what you just said. You turn towards him and start grinning, meeting Peter’s own wide smile. You start littering his face with kisses until he holds your face in place to kiss your lips. It’s like you melt right into his mouth once your lips touch his.
You spend the rest of the night telling each other that you love the other, giggling and cuddling and kissing until the early morning hours.
  *
Peter wants to sit through this lecture with you on his lap when you get to the lecture hall one minute before the lesson starts and there are no two seats free next to each other.
But you two promised yourselves that you weren’t going to be that annoying couple that has to be together at all times, so you two sit at opposite sides of the room.
Peter’s stomach tingles with jealousy when he sees that you’re sitting next to a guy you know. Brandon. Peter remembers him from the day you and Peter met. When it was Peter’s turn to tell an embarrassing sex story and he had nothing to say, you told Brandon to tell his story instead, distracting everyone and saving Peter.
He smiles when he thinks back to it; who knew that you two would end up in love?
But he hears your giggle through the entire lecture hall, over all the over murmuring, and Peter frowns. He knows it’s stupid if not wrong to be jealous about something so trivial. He’s more than okay with you having a male friend as long as he’s a good person; Peter’s happy about every nice friend you have.
But he’s spent the last few months getting to know you inside and out and you never mentioned Brandon. Now you’re talking to him like you’re best friends. Okay, the thing that bothers Peter the most is that you apparently knew Brandon’s sex story before he told it to the whole party.
Why were you talking to Brandon about sex? And why did you never mention it to Peter?
He knows you’ve done nothing wrong, and it’s ridiculous that he feels like this over a story and you laughing at another man’s jokes. If he was sitting next to you, he’s sure he’d be fine, but it doesn’t help that you’re out of reach.
He’s more curious than jealous, or that’s what he’s trying to tell himself, knowing he has no right to feel this way about such a little thing.
He tries to accept the feeling, tries to focus on what Professor Garfield is saying but throughout the whole lecture Brandon is in the back of Peter’s mind.
By the end of the lesson, he’s more mad than anything else – mad at himself for being jealous. He doesn't want to turn into one of those possessive, toxic and controlling boyfriends. He trusts you and he should be okay with you having dozens of male friends.
He waits for you by the door when the lecture is over, and in the sea of students you and Brandon leave the room separately. Peter’s so focussed on Brandon that he only notices you standing next to him once you hold his hand.
“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately. Peter didn’t know he was being that obvious.
He doesn’t want to drag you into his unnecessary jealousy and insecurity. “No-nothing,” he presses his lips together in a smile and you walk him into a quiet corner.
“What is it?” You sit down and pat the seat next to you for Peter to sit down.
“Well. I don’t know. It’s just, we usually sit together in this class and then we didn’t get to sit together and then you ended up next to a guy you know and I just…” It’s the shortened and less embarrassing version.
You smile, half with pity and half out of amusement, but he knows you’re not trying to make fun of him. “You were jealous? Of Brandon?”
“I don’t know. Kinda. I‘d honestly rather have you look at Andrew’s ass than have you talk to Brandon and giggle at everything he says and–like, I don’t even know him and I just felt insecure because I didn’t feel like I was a part of it,” he looks down, taking a deep breath, “Sorry, of course I don’t mean it like that. Obviously it’s fine if you have male friends. I was just wondering why you haven’t told me about him, because I remember him from the party the first time we met and I realised you never brought him up. And then I got so into my head about being jealous that I felt even worse and now I can’t even tell the jealousy from the being-mad-at-myself apart.”
“Okay, take my hand,” you say, “I love you. And-”
“I love you too,” Peter grins instantly, leaning over to kiss you.
“So, I didn’t tell you about Brandon because I wasn’t thinking about him. If he was important to me I would have introduced you two ages ago. I didn't even realise I was in this class until today. I met him the same night I met you and I was talking to a group of people before we played that game where he told that sex story. But wait.. Peter,” you furrow your eyebrows, “So you remember the story Brandon told?”
“I remember that he told a story, but I was too busy looking at you and being grateful that you helped me out of the situation.”
“Well, his story was about the first time he had sex with his boyfriend. And they’re still together.”
“Oh,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Now I feel even worse. Why was I so jealous about a guy who has a boyfriend?”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve been attached at the hip lately, so of course we're not used to being apart. I’m sure we’ll get used to it in a few days. But you’re jealous for the first time and we’re already talking about it, I’m sure we’ll sort it out. I promise we’ll work it out together.”
He pecks your lips again, “Thank you. I think I was way more surprised about my jealousy than actually being jealous. I trust you and I love you and I do that more and more every day. It’s just that I want you so much that I assume every guy feels the same, because why wouldn’t they? Forgive me if I project that onto them and don’t trust them. But I trust you and that’s what matters and what I’ll try to rely on. I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of something small.”
“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you told me how you feel. You’re already not jealous anymore and you’re talking about it and working it out. That’s what matters. You recognise that it’s unreasonable but jealousy is a normal emotion.”
He gives you a small smile, already understanding himself better thanks to you. You’re right, jealousy is something everyone feels from time to time. He’ll learn how to deal with it, and now that he’s with you, feeling loved and appreciated, he can’t even imagine ever being jealous again. He can tell his love is reciprocated. He trusts you, and that’s all he needs.
You sit together for another while, smiling and saying goodbye when Professor Garfield walks past you. You wait until he’s turned around the corner to say, “Wait, what did you say about his ass earlier?”
Peter chuckles, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the first time we had this lesson you said something about how nice his ass is.”
“Oh, now I remember. But your ass is the only ass I wanna look at now, you know that?” 
“Really?”
“Really. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I was interested in anyone else’s ass.”
There’s a comfortable warmth in Peter’s chest at you calling him his boyfriend. He’ll always be happy to be that.
“Well,” he thinks out loud, “There are some guys with nice asses, I can’t deny that. But then we can both admire them, okay? Together.”
You laugh, “You’re so cute. Okay, I’ll let you know when I see a nice ass and we’ll appreciate it together.”
“Good,” Peter smiles, okay with you liking other people’s asses because, after all, those asses don’t have this great connection with you like he does. He’s so much to you than a person with a cute ass.
“But your ass is the nicest,” he adds.
“Thank you," you laugh and kiss his cheek.
You lean back on your hands and tilt your head towards your shoulder. This time Peter feels warmth rushing elsewhere.
“You wanna know what I was thinking about during the whole lesson?”
He nods.
“I was thinking,” you look around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear, “about how I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth.”
Peter’s heart starts beating twice as fast as it usually does, “My-my- my dick? In your- why would— do you want it to be in your mouth?”
“I do. I had a dream about it last night. And I was gonna wait until tonight to do it but maybe we should do it now to relax you.”
“I.. don’t know if relax is the right word,” he says.
“I’ll do it to show you that I only like you then. And because I really need you.”
Peter’s face falls, “No, shit, I have this class now… no, nevermind, let’s go to my room–”
“No, we said our education and college come first, and that we wouldn’t let our academic performance fall off because of each other.”
“Yeah but I didn’t know that that meant saying no to you…” he looks at his lap and back at you again. 
“To me sucking your dick?” You’re teasing him on purpose now but despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants he’s enjoying it.
“Y-yeah..”
“Go to your class now and I’ll see you tonight,” you kiss him and get up.
“No wait–”
“Bye, baby,” you call out and walk away.
A class has never lasted as long as Peter’s next class. He leaves his bunched up hoodie on his lap the whole time even though he’s cold in just the shirt he’s wearing.
After class, he runs home, going to his dorm room first but you’re not there so he rushes to your room instead. You open the door as if Peter hasn’t been suffering for the past two hours, giving him a quick kiss and sitting back down to read a book.
He gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, “Please. You can’t be serious right now. I need you.”
You pat the bed next to you and he lies down with a sigh, hoping to get your attention but you keep reading; maybe he can take a nap to make the time pass quicker. You pretend to read for another minute or two and then grin at Peter and straddle him, starting to kiss him. 
“Sorry, I thought it would be fun to tease you but I don’t know what I was thinking. I really want you.”
He’s panting into your mouth after a few moments, already feeling relief as you pull at his belt, taking off Peter’s pants and your and his shirt.
“Let me know uh, how I’m doing,” you say as you get down on your knees in front of the bed.
Your words clear Peter’s mind for a second and he leans down to give you a kiss, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, by the way.”
You shake your head, “No, I really want to. I just don’t know what to do, so, be patient with me.”
“Always,” he reaches for your hand to kiss it, “So I guess you just– oh my god.” He moans as your mouth wraps around him, all wet and warm.
He makes the mistake of looking at you, the head of his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips against his skin, eyes big and gorgeous and so innocent. He’s close so quickly and motions for you to stop.
“Everything okay?” You ask, already knowing what’s going on though. Peter’s eyes go to your chest, perfect tits pushed together by a pretty bra. If you take that off he doesn’t want to know how fast he’ll cum.
“Yes, more than okay. I love you so much, you know that?”
“I do, but Peter, this is torture for me,” you say seriously.
“What?” He sits up straighter.
“I wanna make you cum so so bad, please just let me, I don’t care how long you last.” You sound so horny that it makes Peter’s cock just that much harder in the way only happens when he’s with you, never when he’s alone.
“Okay. But try to go slow, I wanna enjoy it as long as I can.”
You smirk and he already knows you’ll give it your all, but while he wants to enjoy it as long as possible, he also really wants to cum.
You wrap a hand around him, slapping his dick against your tongue a few times, putting on a show for him. But once you wrap your lips around him, there’s no stopping you.
Peter’s skin glistens with a mixture of your spit and his precum and you keep taking him deeper and deeper until all of him disappears in your mouth. “Fuuuck,” he groans, huffing with a smile, accepting that he’s about to cum.
You start going faster, your wet mouth making a loud, obscene sound against his skin. Peter lies down on his back, barely able to keep his noises in.
“God– oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” his mouth falls open as he cranes his neck to look at you taking his dick. He puts a hand on your head, feeling your every movement up and down his cock.
He cums right down your throat as soon you start moaning, mouth stuffed full of Peter’s dick. You taste the first few drops and then jerk him off so his cum lands on your cheek and the sight is so dirty yet so beautiful.
You’re both panting when Peter is finished and you’re smiling at each other, in silent agreement that that was one of the hottest things you two have ever experienced. Your smile has something shy to it too, unsure how you look with Peter’s cum on your face.
But he’s looking at you with pure admiration, not believing how lucky he is for a bit before pulling you up to kiss you.
“Wait, Pete, you’ll get cu–”
“I don’t care.”
He kisses your mouth, and tasting himself on you is the sexiest thing in the world. He kisses his cum off your skin, connecting your lips afterwards, his tongue in your mouth until the cum is gone.
He wipes his mouth, asking something he’s been thinking about for a while, and he can’t go a second longer without it. “Do you wanna sit on my face?”
You’re taking off your clothes before the question even fully leaves his mouth and he takes in the sight of the prettiest woman alive getting undressed in front of him, for him.
He licks his lips when you slip out of your panties, the holy place between your legs shiny with arousal that’s started running down your thighs.
“You’re so wet.. from going down on me?” He asks, grabbing your thighs as you come closer, straddling him.
You simply nod and while you’re making your way up Peter’s body there’s a moment where your eyes meet for more than a few seconds. You don’t say anything, there’s just mutual appreciation and adoration for one another.
This is something good. Maybe it’s the best thing in the world. It is the best thing in the world.
“I love you,” he says, feeling so much more than those three simple words.
“I love you,” you say, your eyes holding such intensity that he doesn’t think there’s a single person in the world who has ever been as loved as Peter is by you.
He hopes he’s making you feel like the Goddess he sees you as, he adores every inch of you, all the things you’ve ever said to him and every second he’s spent with you.
The moment feels like it goes on forever, and at some point, you both move your heads towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss.
He grabs your ass, ready to drown in your pussy and to make you cum as many times as you want.
“Can I…?” You ask as you lower yourself. 
Peter pulls you towards his face and makes love to you all night. 
You spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms, feeling like the luckiest people on earth and you probably are.
☆.。.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.。.:*☆
6K notes · View notes
ellieslaces · 3 months
Text
NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.
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featuring: leon kennedy x fem!agent!reader x ashley graham
synopsis: ashley graham's biggest weakness is attractive people, especially kind, attractive people. she was not expecting to be saved by two of the hottest, kindest people she'd ever met, much less to end up crushing on the both of them
content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; tension; lots of flirtatious banter; ashley shooting her shot for an entire fic basically; mentions of reader being bisexual; light smut; kissing (f!f & f!m); one bed trope; forced proximity; no real smut bc idk how to write a threesome :(
notes: takes place on the way back from Spain (technically post RE4R); one bed-ish trope (r&leon share a bed, and a room with ashley); ashley is sort of confused about her sexuality; semi-established relationship (r&leon); really more of a sibling dynamic between ashley and leon (it sounds weird, but its balanced in the actual fic, i promise)
word count: 6.13k (i’m so sorry)
chloe talks: was this entirely inspired by @postersofleon ? yeah, i read this post a week or so ago and i'm losin' sleep over it. so full credits to @postersofleon for the plot! luv their lil' drabble :) also, sorry this isn't more of a threesome fic. if it were a triple female threesome, i could work with that, but add a dick into it, i'm clueless. anyways, enjoy ashley fumbling for this whole fic (luv her, i just can't help embarrassing her shes so cute). also, please appreciate this, i wrote around 80% of this while i was supposed to be studying for an exam. that’s on adhd and procrastination :)
now playing: Nohings Gonna Hurt You Baby; Cigarettes After Sex
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It is entirely possible that blondes were, indeed, your weakness. Sure, over the years, you'd come to realize there was something especially alluring about lighter hair - possibly the way it reminded you of the sun, or how each strand looked like spun gold. Although, what seemed to seal your fate was the ever dangerous pairing of blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, how alluring and damning was the color of icy blue coupled with silvery, silken strands.
For a time, you believed your weakness was encompassed only within your field partner, Leon S. Kennedy. God, how handsome was that agent. Not only handsome, but brave, and kind - awkwardly so, but it really is the principle of the thing. It was painstakingly obvious to everyone, other than Leon it seemed, that you were completely and forlornly in love with him. It seemed you were equally as blind to the evidence that Leon Kennedy was also miserably in love with you.
But the one person who noticed it upon first glance was Ashley Graham. Not only for the clear obviousness of the situation, but because the feeling was entirely, and unfortunately mutual. And it was this girl who also awoke the realization within you that Leon was not the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person you found enticing.
Though, you were not the only one in this clandestine triad who had an impending weakness for certain types of people. No, you were not, Ashley had an Achilles heel for graciously kind people. Not just kind, but attractive. Not in a shallow or superficial way, but to say more that a person would catch her eye. She had no pre-existing physical type - no particular hair color, eye color, or even height preference. Just that they be kind. And much to the First Daughter's dismay, you were both horribly kind. In your own respective ways, of course.
Leon — as aforementioned — was awkwardly kind, despite how well he meant. He never knew exactly how to word his concern, or how to come about comforting someone. It was usually said in simple phrases such as “you okay?” or in way of one of many snarky comments he had stored in the deep recesses of his mind. Ashley thought he was funny; sometimes.
You, on the other hand, were painfully sweet to her. Always reassuring her that she was okay, and you were going to keep her safe. Field medic, that’s how Leon explained your role in her rescue. You were there to keep her and Leon healthy and in one piece, which you were startlingly good at. Any bruise or cut she procured was immediately treated by your sweet disposition and skilled hands. She liked how gentle you were with her.
So yes, Leon was kind in an awkward manner, and you were kind in a practical sense. And that devastating combination was her inevitable downfall.
From the moment you and Leon found her in that church, she knew she was fucked. Because, how could people look that good while doing the sort of jobs you had? There was no way, no way she would ever be able to form coherent sentences around you two. But, somehow, by some miracle, she got on with you both quite well. Despite the obvious moments of third-wheel-ism because you and Leon were so close.
There where multiple reoccurring occasions where Ashley suspected the pair of you may be together. Or at least fucking on the side. Because no two people who are just partners have that dynamic. The constant tension, the way Leon could be protective or even overbearing sometimes. The way you would rush to his side to patch up his wounds — no matter how small and minuscule they were — after a fight. Sometimes, despite how endearing it could be, Ashley was annoyed. Sure, you two had known each other for an extended period of time and had just met Ashley that day. But, it became so aggravating when you would consult each other without the inclusion of Ashley.
Many times you would apologize to her, expressing how sorry you were for leaving her out of conversations or hypothetical battle plans. It wasn’t that either of you thought she was stupid or couldn’t handle it. No, it was more along the lines that you were used to it just being the two of you. There was rarely ever a third party involved — other than Hunnigan chatting away in your ear pieces of course — in these types of situations.
Ashely was smitten, to put it lightly. She’d made several attempts to quote-unquote ‘shoot her shot’ with Leon. Little comments of how brave he was, how thankful she was for his saving her. Even calling him her ‘hero’ on one occasion or another. His name had posted permanent residence in her vocabulary it seemed.
However, her means of flattery with you was completely different. She was a little more bold with you, seeing as you were more of an open person than Leon was. She partook in the cliche, yet never failing flirtatious mannerisms — simple touches, giggling at your jokes, or simply sticking to your side in dangerous situations. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice, no, you just turned a conscious blind eye to it all. Ashley was a college girl, a sorority girl, a privileged girl. She was probably used to using flattery to get what she wanted, to gain the attention she so desperately thrived on.
Though as your time in the hostile Spanish village went on, you came to realize that it wasn’t superficial, Ashley’s flattery toward you and your field partner. Absolutely not, far from it. You realized after Leon had carried her to Luis’ laboratory and you managed to get the machine working to expel the parasite from her body, that Ashley was totally and completely smitten with the pair of you. She was attached in the worst way. And that would be your inevitable downfall.
Leon was consciously blind to it. Your partner — no matter his selfless tendencies and his awkwardly kind nature — was melancholic. He had a firm belief he was predestined to be miserable. That there was always another shoe waiting to drop. He didn’t deserve happiness, peace, love, a good life. So, he ignored it. He ignored how Ashley was equally as taken with him as she was with you. He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t even act like he noticed. Oh, but you did.
You saw the attachment so clearly by the time the three of you had managed to escape the crumbling island via Ada Wong’s gifted jet ski that Ashely was so attached to the pair of you. She’d offered positions on her own personal detail to you, claiming she could put a word in with her father. Denials were made, kind smiles and the shaking of heads. Too kind of an offer and you liked your jobs, is what you’d told her. That wasn’t at all what you were thinking though.
Post a Hunnigan meltdown over your earpieces, the three of you were told to stay the night in a shabby, rundown little local hotel in a larger town a couple dozen miles south of the village. Still in Spain, still tired, still craving a warm shower. One room, two beds. Great, one of you was stuck sleeping with someone. Ashely offered for one of you to have a bed to yourself, she’d sleep with the other. Not a great idea. You and Leon — having spent many awkward and difficult missions together, so this was not strange to either one of you — decided on giving Ashley a bed to herself and taking the other together
If you’d been alone, oh how your lovestruck little heart would have burst. Sharing a bed with Leon Kennedy, the object of your affection. The sole performer in your wildest — and wettest — dreams. But you weren’t alone. Ashley was in the room, a matter of feet away, in her own double sized bed.
If she hadn’t been — to be vulgar and completely honest — nothing would have stopped you from fucking him then and there. The tension between the pair of you had been growing thicker since your arrival in Spain. It was thick, painfully so, and also horrifically obvious not only to you, but yet again, to Ashley. For the longer stretch of the mission, she’d expected a grand confession at any moment. A breakdown caused by a dangerous situation that ensued a moment of emotional and even physical vulnerability. But, to her dismay and yours, that never happened. Because, above all things, Leon was professional for a lack of a better word. He wasn’t going to allow his emotions to jeopardize the mission.
And so no breakdown of emotional distress and vulnerability played out. No confession of hearts bleeding for the other were cried out. Part of you was glad it hadn’t happened that way. But the larger part of your soul which was dedicated to Leon had wished it had. You longed for the day he realized he needed you too. But, to maintain professionalism and dignity, neither of you made such admissions.
Warm showers were taken in rotation in the tiny excuse for a bathroom. The shower was small and permanently stained with grime, but really was clean as the owner swore. The shower head was one of the older ones from the seventies that made the water come out in a dribble, then a forceful rainfall that hurt your back. The toiletries provided by the hotel were small and cheap, but you were clean. That’s all that mattered.
Sans dried blood and grime, you sat on Ashley’s bed, cross legged as you patched up each one of her injuries. Ashley had been the first to shower, after a fifteen minute debate with the two of you over who should go first. She had a few bandages and exposed scrapes that needed to be re-cleaned. So, with gentle hands you did so as Leon took use of his turn to shower.
“Looks good, no signs of infection so far. But, like I said before, I can’t tell too much without the right equipment.” You reassured Ashely as you finished patching up a cut on her arm and began to put your first aid kit back together.
“Thanks,” Ashley nodded, inspecting her scrape riddled skin. Small bruises and surface cuts were beginning to make their appearance, telltale signs of the brutality the three of you had endured in that village.
“Let me know if you feel feverish or see any swelling. That could mean infection.” You offered, being kind but stern.
“‘Kay,” the girl nodded, smiling up at you as you let out a sigh, leaning back on your hands on the bed.
You looked at her, smiling softly as your head tilted to the side a little. “Need me to kiss it better?”
At this, Ashley’s eyes went wide, her cheeks dusted with pink. You felt a little bad then, you just tried to ease the tension. “S’okay, Ashley. I was just playing.” You laughed, your tone lighthearted as you placed a gentle hand on her knee with an equally gentle smile.
It seemed the touch was worst than the comment. Ashley’s entire face went aflame, her eyes wide, and large as she stared at you. An uneasy ache settled in your chest, uncertainty lingering in the air as your smile faded. The initial shock between the pair of you didn’t last long as the door to the bathroom swung open.
“Jesus, you could’ve left me some hot water.” Leon grumbled as he stepped out into the room, lips downturned and brows etched in an annoyed frown.
The three of you were now paused as Leon’s eyes fell on you and Ashely — or more-so on the hand that rested on Ashley’s knee. Reality seemed to snap into place all at once for you, yanking your hand back and standing up.
“Let me check you out.” You mumbled, clearing your throat as you picked up the first aid kit and took residence on your own bed.
“No, I’m fine. Check on Ashley,” Leon shook his head, damp blond strands sticking to his forehead.
“Already did. Just finished. Your turn, whether you like it or not.” You stated, your tone final as you looked up at Leon, brows raised.
The agent let out a huff of agitation, grumbling something indiscernible as he sat down on the bed beside you. You began to gently inspect Leon's wounds- some small, others more intense. Despite his prior hesitation to be taken care of, he was stoic about it all. He sat still, unmoving, silent as you worked to disinfect and cover each wound with fresh bandages. The silence in the room was loud, startlingly uncomfortable as you patched Leon up.
A quick glance over at Ashley as you finished bandaging a deep cut that you'd quickly stitched up on the field showed her wide eyes. Wide baby blue focused on the way your fingers gently worked, how graceful and careful they were again the alabaster tone of Leon's skin.
"Doing okay over there, blondie?” Leon inquired, a small smirk playing on his face as he spotted Ashley's startling gaze on the wounds decorating his skin. He had mistook her fascination of your hands as nervousness of his wounds. But you knew. You could tell what her gaze meant.
"Oh, yeah. M'fine." Ashley recovered very quickly, to your surprise. Well, maybe it wasn't just your hands that had her enraptured, Leon was sitting on the bed, shirtless.
"Alright, hero-boy, all better." You smiled at Leon as you patted his bicep - earning a small, almost inaudible grumble from him - and moving to close your medical kit. You stood, tucking away in your pack and let out a sigh. "’Kay, l for one, am fucking exhausted."
“Yeah, me too,” Ashely murmured, an aura of discomfort still radiating from her. She offered a kind, if not awkward smile to the pair of you before settling into the bed, pulling the overs over her shoulders. “G’night.”
“‘Night,” you smiled, shuffling over to the bed you and Leon were sharing. You sat down on the edge, eyes trained on the back of Ashley’s head — the blonde hair, how it shimmered against the dim light of the single lamp in the room. You felt almost as if you weren’t really there.
“Need me to check you?” Leon asked, snapping you back to reality. You jolted a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.
“Oh, nah, I’m okay.” You shook your head, clearing your throat as you settled into the bed, flicking off the lamp.
“Okay,” Leon shrugged, getting into the bed too, still in just a pair of pants. Everyone was in the barest of clothing. You in a tank top and underwear — Ashely in the same. It was all you had. All your clothes were soiled with dirt, and grime, and blood.
Thinking of nothing in particular, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the dark room. The walls creaked every once in a while, odd drafts filtered in from cracks in the ceiling or from the window. It was too quiet. And it stayed that way for a long while.
“Everything okay with Ashley?” Leon asked, his voice quiet, as not to wake the subject of conversation.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled back, turning your head. He, too, was on his back. Both of you too afraid to face each other in bed, seeming too personal. “Why?”
“Just making sure.” His response was quiet, a little too nonchalant, as if he’d forced it to be casual. “It was awkward earlier.”
“Earlier?” You decided to play dumb, despite knowing that Leon wouldn’t believe it. He was well aware you knew what he was talking about. The touch. How Ashley had frozen when you’d touched her leg.
“Whatever, play stupid.” He scoffed with a half smile — a knowing smile. The bastard. “Just saying, she seems attached to you.”
“Oh, and she’s not with you, her hero?” You bit back with a hint of humor. Your voices were still low, hoping Ashely was asleep — or she couldn’t hear you if she wasn’t.
Leon laughed quietly, a rough scoff sound that echoed in your ears. You smiled at little at that sound. “Whatever you say,”
You frowned, gaining the confidence to shuffle onto your side, facing him as you contemplated what that simple, yet heavy ‘whatever’ meant. “What do you mean, whatever?”
Leon sighed, rolling onto his side to face you too. His eyes, still so blue even in the darkness of the motel room, bore into yours. It seemed he didn’t carry the same awkward feeling about this topic as you did. Or, maybe he did and he just hid it exceptionally well. But knowing him, that didn’t seem right.
“She’s just attached to you. Always at your side, or chatting your ear off. And what the hell was with that earlier?” He continued, brows furrowed in their eternal frown.
“I was patching her up. Making sure none of her cuts were infected.” You half shrugged, trying to play it off as something simple, even though it was so complex.
“She looked like she wanted to kiss you or something.”
“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, trying to push away the way your chest tightened at the though. “You’re so fucking dramatic. She wasn’t gonna kiss me.”
“Okay,” Leon shrugged, his tone final and casually dismissive. Like he was finished talking about it. Like he didn’t believe you but didn’t want to say so.
“She was not going to kiss me.” You pushed, voice quiet yet firm. Your own brows were pulled into a frown, like what he’d said was offensive.
But it wasn’t. Kissing Ashley wasn’t a bad thought. It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed another girl before. The first time you had was in the training program for USSTRATCOM, your training partner who made you realize that all girls don’t look at other girls that way. She was the first, others followed.
Ashley was pretty, very pretty. Tall, pretty lips, and the blonde hair, blue eye thing, of course. Kissing her wouldn’t be so bad, really. It would probably be very nice. But nothing like kissing Leon, though.
“Okay.” Leon said again, shifting to lay on his back again, letting his eyes close. The finality of it all aggravated you. So, you asked him a question maybe you shouldn’t have.
“What if she did?” You asked, eyes narrowed and trained on him. A smile bloomed on your face at the way his eyes opened, his brows furrowing deeper at your question.
“What about it? It’s not my business.” Leon grumbled. But the tone he used made it wound like it was very much his business.
“M’kay.” You nodded, quietly celebrating to the way you’d seemed to have stumped him, surprised him.
For a moment, he didn’t respond. He stared at the ceiling, and you stared at him. It was deadly quiet, the rhythmic sound of Ashley’s breathing the sole sound in the room.
“Did you want her to?” Leon asked, mumbling quietly. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he were afraid to look you in the eye when you answered. Afraid you had an answer he wouldn’t like.
“I dunno.” You admitted, honestly. You didn’t know, truly you didn’t. Kissing Ashely wouldn’t be so bad, but you hardly knew the girl. Not to mention her heavy attachment to you. It could get worse if she kissed you.
Leon nodded, not sure of how to answer your admission. He laid there, your eyes on him as you laid on your side. You wished so desperately for him to kiss you, or hold you, or do something. It was painful, the thought that he didn’t feel the same.
“Would that bother you?” You dared to ask, voice so low it was almost inaudible as you spoke.
Leon was still quiet for a long moment, maybe considering whether to answer seriously or with his usual dry humor. The latter won. “Not something I’d wanna walk in on.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why? Because we’re girls?”
“Because she’d be kissing you.” He responding, saying it lightly, like the meaning of that simple sentence wasn’t the heaviest thing you’d ever heard.
Your mind did circles, your heart raced. Did he mean that because you were his partner? Or did he mean it out of jealousy. God, you hoped it was jealousy.
“What do you mean by that?” You questioned, voice apprehensive and unsure.
Leon shrugged, a soft, unintelligible grunt falling from his lips. He didn’t look over at you, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. The nagging feeling that was ever present in your chest worsened. The silence was deafening, painful. Then, finally, he spoke.
“It’d just be weird. It’s Ashely, it’d be weird.” He mumbled, like even he didn’t believe his own answer.
Leon’s words befuddled you, made you frown in contemplation. “Because it’s Ashley? What you mean by that?”
“I mean it’s Ashley. It’d be weird.” He repeated, not clarifying at all. This annoyed you.
Eyes narrowed, lips in a line, you scoffed. “Thanks for the explanation.”
“Anytime,” Leon clipped back playfully. But you were in no playful mood.
You huffed, Leon picking up on your attitude as you sat up in bed. “Seriously, what’d you mean by that?”
Leon let out a scoff of his own, rolling his eyes as he looked over at you. “I mean it’s just a weird thought. You and Ashley. We, we just met her, okay?”
“Oh,” you nodded, wishing you hadn’t jumped to your own conclusions internally. You’d thought he meant it was weird because she wasn’t him. Or maybe that he wanted to kiss you. Not such a simple and obvious answer.
“Yeah,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh to stifle a yawn. “Look, can we get some sleep now? Kinda have a long trip home tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, lying back down on your back, eyes on the cracked ceiling once again.
It was quiet again, the discomfort of silence present once more as Ashley slept in the bed next to yours, and Leon tired to sleep beside you. Your mind buzzed with a thousand variations of the same question: why did Leon actually care so damn much?
“Go to sleep. You think too loud.” Leon grumbled, shifting to lay on his side, back facing you.
“At least some of us think,” you quipped quietly, earning a scoff of a laugh from him before he went silent for the final time that night.
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Of course Leon woke up at dawn. The asscrack of fucking dawn. And it wasn’t like he was quiet either. Shuffling of his feet as he stumbled to the bathroom, the sink creaking on. You tried so hard to stay asleep, but your stupid internal alarm clock was ringing too. Oh to be in D.C. where it was still dark.
“C’mon, get up. We need to get moving.” Leon said, his voice somewhat gentle as he rested a hand on your shoulder once he’d emerged from the bathroom, fully changed.
“I’m up. You’re loud.” You mumbled, voice muffled as you pressed your face into the pillow.
“Jesus,” Leon whispered under his breath. “Even Ashely’s up.”
“Good for her,” you nestled deeper into the pillow, hearing a second set of footsteps head toward the bathroom. Less than five short seconds later, Leon yanked the covers from your body, sending a muffled yelp from your lips.
“Up, we need to move.” Leon said again, giving your leg a small shake as you grumbled on about a lack of sleep. His gentleness was gone now, replaced by urgency.
Technically, you were still on ‘enemy grounds’. You weren’t safe until you were back on U.S. soil, and even then there carried a risk with Ashley in tow.
So, with more sour encouragement from Leon, you got up and changed into your now dry clothes. Once Ashely used up her turn in the bathroom, you took yours. And not long after, the three of you were heading back toward the lobby of the shabby motel.
You managed to convince Leon to stick around for an extra thirty minutes for a shitty cooked breakfast in the sad excuse for a dining room where the motel offered complimentary breakfast.
Once full of frozen scrambled eggs, stale toast, and really bad coffee, the three of you were on the move once more. It was tricky, getting home like this. Hunnigan had promised that of you made it to a certain location a few miles north of the motel, there would be a chopper waiting to pick you up. Hunnigan hadn’t failed you yet, so you didn’t doubt her.
“How much further?” Ashley asked, her brows creased, forehead already glistening with sweat as the three of you walked through the winding streets of a small village as you had been for the past few hours.
“Not too much. Tired?” You asked, slowing your steps to walk alongside the girl.
She nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Sympathy panged in your chest — Ashley wasn’t built for this like you and Leon were. The two of you had trained for exhausting situations such as these, she had not. You frowned.
“Need some water?” You asked gently, holding out a canteen from your belt. Ashley nodded vigorously, taking the canteen and drinking deeply.
You motioned to Leon to stop for a moment, he frowned, but did nonetheless. You stood with Ashley as she drank, taking a break before going back to drinking the water.
“Thanks,” she smiled, handing the canteen back to you — now half empty. “Sorry, I drank a lot.”
“That’s okay. Can’t have you passing out on us now, can we?” You smiled, taking a sip yourself before latching it back on your belt.
Leon, noticing that Ashely was finished with her break, began walking again. You and Ashely followed, keeping a small bit of distance between you and Leon.
“Hey, I um, I overheard you and Leon talking last night. Not everything, but some of it.” Ashley confessed, her voice a bit hesitant.
“Oh, that so? What’d you hear exactly?” You asked casually, worry springing in your chest.
“Just, I’m sorry because I know you guys have a like, groove or whatever. And I mess it up and I make it weird.”
You frowned for a moment, thinking about her words. Then it hit you — she didn’t hear about the kissing discussion, just the last bit about her being new to the trio.
“Oh, Ashely. You don’t make anything weird. Leon and I… we weren’t talking about you making things weird.” You promised, lips curved downward as you and Ashley walked behind Leon.
“Then why’d Leon say that?” Ashely asked, the insecurity obvious in her voice.
You hesitated, unsure whether or not to say it to her face. That he’d thought you two were going to kiss. After a moment of consideration — and seeing Ashely’s sad, curious eyes — you decided to just say it. Consequences be damned.
“Because he thought you were going to try to kiss me. When he came out of the bathroom last night.” You explained gently, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. When it kind of was.
The girl was quiet for a long moment, her brows creased, lips turned downward. She swallowed, looking back at you from where she’d been staring at her feet. “And he meant it’d be weird if I did kiss you?”
“Yeah, that’s what he meant. Not because we’re girls,” you were quick to interject your previous statement. “But because it’s just… that you and I don’t really know each other that well.”
Ashley nodded, walking beside you as you followed Leon along the uneven stone paths. Every once in a while, he’d glance backward to make sure you weren’t lingering behind or somehow gotten lost.
“Okay,” one simple word carried such finality. It shook you — Ashley was uncomfortable.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. I just wanted to be honest.” You tried to explain gently but firmly. You didn’t want her to think you were strange.
“You didn’t make me feel weird.” Ashely shook her head, eyes squinting in the mid-afternoon sun as she looked over at you.
You smiled a little, relieved you hadn’t put her off or made her uncomfortable. That really was the last thing you wanted. “Good,”
The three of you continued to walk along, and a little further up, you demanded a break. Leon huffed, claiming you didn’t have time for a break. But the sun was warm and you were quickly running out of water.
So, you stopped for a quick fifteen minutes before setting off again. Leon was walking much quicker than before — dead set on getting to the extraction point before sundown. Which was very much possible as you were a mere four miles away.
There was a chopper waiting, just as Hunnigan had promised. God, you’d mentally decided to name your first born after her, so thankful to finally leave Spain and sit your ass down.
You sat beside Leon in the back compartment of the chopper, all three of you sporting massive headsets to protect your ears. You chatted away with the pilot — a friend of Hunnigan’s named Danny who was funny, and reminded you of the late Mike who died in pursuit of getting you and Leon out of trouble in the village.
With the promise of a good meal and actual hot showers, Danny flew the three of you home. You were busy looking outside the chopper when Leon nudged your knee with his, earning a slightly venomous glare from you before he pointed to Ashley. Who was dead asleep across from you.
The ride back to D.C. was long, around six hours. Most of which were spent talking with Danny or falling asleep, slumped against Leon’s shoulder. Around twenty minutes before you were set to land — you and Leon had been previously discussing what you were doing first, eating, sleeping, or showering — you shook Ashley awake.
The poor thing was groggy and half asleep as you all filed off the chopper and bid goodbye to Danny — whom you’d made a promise to meet up with and have drinks in honor of Mike at his favorite bar he’d mentioned before he tragically died.
A government issued SUV waited for you, instructing the three of you to pile into the back so you could be taken straight to the President, then to testing. Which you put up a damn good fight. Who the fuck cared about testing? You were hungry and tired and dehydrated as hell. Leon shut you up quick though, despite not being happy about the arrangement himself.
Unfortunately, the car ride was around a half an hour. The driver — not as intimidating had he’d first appeared — flicked between radio stations ntil he landed on one he knew was Ahsley’s favorite. (Apparently he’d been the one to drive Ashely to college, so he knew what music she liked).
Much to Ashely’s dismay and deathly embarrassment, the fucking Backstreet Boys were playing. The driver turned it up, also having the knowledge that this particular track was one of Ashley’s favorites.
Unfortunately, you knew the lyrics too. You mumbled along with them, Leon biting back a smile at how ridiculous his own field partner could be.
“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Ashely asked, her cheeks a bit warm as you bopped your head to the beat and hummed along.
“Nah, but don’t be embarrassed.” You shook your head, smiling at the girl who was sitting between you and Leon.
“Music is music, blondie.” Leon agreed, nodding his head with your positive attitude. He looked back over Ashely’s head at you, trying hard not to smile at your antics. God, you could be so stupidly immature sometimes.
“Oh,” Ashley mumbled, slinking down further in her seat as the driver made the final turn and parked the SUV.
Leon exited first, then Ashley, and you to follow up the rear. You and Leon were armed, still charged with protecting Ashely, no matter the fact that you were indeed on U.S. soil again, and at the White House. The President didn’t greet you outside to your surprise, but you were ushered immediately to his office.
There he was reunited with his daughter, the emotional moment making you have to quietly clear your throat because it even choked you up to see Ashley so happy to see her father again.
You and Leon were thanked profusely, promised your compensation and the highest of honors and awards. To which you didn’t really want (except the money, fuck, you wanted the money), but you knew better than to even try to deny.
With that, you and Leon were quickly dismissed, told you were being led to government testing to be sure you really were clear of the parasites. You gave Ashley a quick goodbye smile and hug, Leon giving her a pat on the shoulder, telling her to behave herself.
She looked so unsure, so strange standing in the Oval Office, clothes grimy and blood stained, hair mussed as she watched you and Leon being escorted from the room.
The First Daughter felt a strange sort of emptiness in her chest then, watching you leave. Her brows furrowed as her father spoke incessantly to her about how worried he’d been and how much he missed her. You were agents, assigned to bring her home and leave. No more, no less. So why was she so devastated to see you go?
Of course, you felt a little sad to leave the girl behind. Despite spending only around forty-eight hours with Ashley, you found yourself realizing you’d miss her. Her smile and her comments and her laugh. The way she always asked if you were alright when you should have been doing so to her. How she tried her hardest to defend you and Leon, despite her chronic helplessness.
These things were not spoken to Leon though as you two walked out of the White House together, followed by guards back to the SUV you’d arrived in. But, even though you didn’t say it, you knew Leon felt it too. Somehow, in forty-eight short hours, Ashley had left a mark on you. The both of you. And you missed her already.
“Wait!” You stopped in your tracks, you and Leon almost simultaneously looking over your shoulder to see Ashley running out of the White House after you. She was panting, trying to catch up.
She ran to Leon first, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the agent by such surprise it made him stumble backwards a bit. Leon wasn’t much of a hugger, you knew this personally. But, despite the action being hesitant and awkward, he hugged her back.
After a few moments — which you knew in your bones were long for Leon — he gave her a quick pat on the back. Ashely took the motion in stride and unlinked herself, smiling at him.
Then, she turned to you. Of course, you expected a hug as well, and you got one. She wrapped her arms around your neck too, you wrapped your arms around her middle, hugging her back with no hesitation. But what you hadn’t expected, was for her to lean back and press a kiss to your lips.
You paused, frozen, eyes wide as Ashley kissed you. What the fuck? She wasn’t a bad kisser, actually. You felt a little bad, not kissing her back as Ashley pulled away, letting go of you and taking a step back. You sort of wished you had kissed her back. But, as the girl stood there, she held no contempt for the fact that you hadn’t. She knew she’d taken you by complete surprise.
“Thank you, both of you. I know I already said it, but thank you for saving my life. It, it means a lot.” Ashely said, her lips — which had been as soft as you thought they were — curved in a sweet smile. Baby blue eyes darted between you and Leon.
Leon who was as shocked as you that Ashley had kissed you with such little hesitation. He was still recovering as well.
Ashely said no more, just offering one last wide smile before turning around and walking away. Her guard — which had followed her outside, running behind her — escorted her. She didn’t even look back, didn’t get a second look at the still shocked look on your face.
“Holy fuck,” you said finally, looking away from Ashley’s retreating figure to look at Leon. He was shocked as well, brows raised as he blinked for a moment.
“Yep, that was weird.” Leon mumbled, nodding as if in affirmation. He said no more, turning around and walking to the SUV, leaving you in momentary silence.
You blinked yourself back to the present, realizing Leon’s comment. You frowned, turning and quickly walking to the SUV as well. “So I didn’t just have a dehydration induced hallucination? She actually kissed me?”
“She actually kissed you,” Leon nodded as he buckled in the SUV, you climbing in and sitting beside him. The car started and rolled out of the parking lot.
“Oh my God.” You said, brows raised, shaking your head. You were unsure of what else there really was to say. You were at a total loss for words.
“Fucking weird.” Leon shook his head, whispering again.
This caused you to look over at him, brows raised. “Why? Because we’re girls?” You brought up your challenge from the previous night, knowing full well you’d get the same damn response.
“No, because it's you.”
You frowned deeper, lips downturned. Oh, you liked a good fucking challenge. “You think I’m like, un-kissable, or something, Kennedy?”
Leon rolled his eyes, exhaustion obviously catching up to him. He looked tired — physically and mentally. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird.”
“See, that’s not an explanation. Just like it wasn’t last night.” You chided, eyes narrowed.
“Christ,” Leon mumbled under his breath as shook his head, clearly regretting ever speaking in the last five minutes. “It’s just weird to see my partner being kissed like that.”
You took this as your chance, a grin forming on your lips. “By another girl? Or just in general?”
“General.” Leon responded, obviously not caring of how bored it sounded.
“Jealous or something?” You challenged further, lips pulled in a shit-eating grin.
Oh you’d gotten him there. You could tell by the way Leon’s shoulders tensed and his too casual expression that he was, indeed, sickeningly jealous. An idea — stupid, one that may ruin your dynamic — popped into your head.
You turned your body to face Leon in the backseat, grinning as he frowned at your sudden closeness. With no hesitation or moment for him to react, you leaned forward and kissed him. Square on the mouth. It must be a thing for blondes to have really soft lips.
Leon didn’t say a word, didn’t pull back, didn’t move. He just let you kiss him. Which was strange in and of itself. You placed a hand on his cheek, him a hand on the back of your neck. Eureka, he’d wanted to kiss you all along. Fuck yes, that’s all you could think.
Leon was a decent kisser too, a really good kisser actually. You scooched a little closer, allowing him to hold you by the back of your neck, your body relaxed against his as if it were natural to do so.
Was this what Ashely was feeling when she’d kissed you? Absolute elation and joy? You didn’t let yourself wonder too much, getting swept up in the fact that you were kissing Leon. His hand was gentle yet firm on the back of your neck, your hand on his cheek drifting down to rest against his chest. This moment, God you wished it could last forever.
Which unfortunately, it didn’t. You heard someone clear their throat, the driver looking at you through the rear view mirror. You pulled back, cheeks a little warm. You must look like some sort of girl. Someone who got around maybe. First the First Daughter had kissed you, now you were verging on making out with your field partner in the backseat of a government vehicle.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling away from Leon and sitting back on the seat.
Leon scoffed to himself, letting his hand fall from where it’d been resting on the back of your neck. “You’re stupid,”
“Excuse me?” You let out a small laugh. You’d kissed him and he was calling you stupid? What the hell?
“I can’t believe it took you that long to realize.” Leon shook his head, making you roll your eyes. He’d been jealous the whole time. So the comment of how weird it’d been that Ashley would kiss you — and actually had — was exactly what you thought. Huh, you were some amateur detective.
“Shut up,” you smiled, mumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest, sinking into the seat.
“Nope.” Leon shook his head, making you smile wider.
Maybe these tests wouldn’t be so bad, now that you had two kisses to think on. One you could only ever remember, and one you could receive a million more of once all this was over.
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how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸
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stupidlovergirl · 1 year
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How Their Love Feels
Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan,Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor Dateables Version
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Lucifer’s love is turning into an old married couple. It starts subtle and then all at once. Lucifer wants to make sure you mean it, he is a man who has raised all his siblings, even if he wasn’t consistent day to day with it. He knows relationships take time and effort, and he doesn’t always have the ability to give it with his loyalty to Diavolo. He needs you to know that he won’t always be able to be in bed when you fall asleep, or be there when you awake. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, but sometimes he doesn’t even go to sleep, the piles of paperwork get so high. Just reassure him, be patient and kind. It makes him love you even more than he already does.
Mammon’s love is wild. He’s attached to your side, dragging you into schemes and problems that he doesn’t always mean to cause. You can always laugh and say that there's never a dull moment. Yet when the night ends, and you snuggle together in bed, all the words of adoration that he gets too nervous to say because he is such tsundere, come out. He tells you how much he loves you, how life with you is so much better, and how he hopes he’s your number one like you are to him. Mammon’s love is wild, and it always makes you feel breathless in the best way.
Falling in love with Leviathan is just like the water. It’s a push and pull. He can’t always give you his everything, his anxiety sometimes gets too much for that. Sometimes the only love he can show you is through texts, as any more would make him panic way too much. Yet just like the water, it comes rushing in. His love overflows, and nothing can stop him from adoring you. He gets embarrassed after these events, but it’s so cute that you can’t help yourself and end up teasing him. Levi is happy you chose him, sometimes he can barely believe it. That he will wake up from this glorious dream. Just give him some kisses and cuddles and force him to believe your not going anywhere.
Satan’s love is like the old romance stories. He is a romantic at heart, and can’t stop himself from loving you like the stories he has read do. Beautiful hand crafted letters, dancing in the kitchen when you both can’t sleep, hushed whispers in your cuddle chair in the library, and so much more. He gets angry, and he has to walk away during these times of weakness, and you have to remind him that you don’t think any less of him for it. It makes him feel a little bit better, and pushes him deeper into the depths of his love for you.
Puppy love is kinda the way to describe your love with Asmodeus. Obviously it’s a little bit more mature, but not really. PDA is through the roof, always mentioning each other to people when you are apart, giggles and nuzzling while people gag at you, all of it. You put middle schoolers to shame sometimes. It’s because he isn’t used to someone loving him for him. It always feels like what he can give them, be it his strength or body. You don’t want that from him though, and it makes him feel so different, like he is discovering something completely new and wants to jump in head first. Just, laugh off some of his weirder comments, he is still a demon who says weird things as affectionate terms. (Have you SEEN some of his lines???)
Beelzebub’s love is like the sun. He shines so brightly, you can’t help but look. He shares his food with you, makes sure you're safe, and cradles you so softly. He is a big teddy bear, letting you cuddle into him whenever you please, he has a lot of experience working around people because of Belphie. You can come running full speed at him and jump and he’ll catch you. He loves being able to carry you around, it doesn’t matter what size you are. Loving you with a warmth that you don’t think you have ever experienced. He loves you with his whole heart, and wants to show it in all the ways he can. He is just a big softie, and wants to give you the entire world. (Spoiler alert, you just need him)
Belphegor loves like a BRAT. Just kidding!!(kinda) Belphie loves like the stars. It is soft, and you sometimes have to see in between the lines to fully grasp the largeness of it. He feels so guilty sometimes, thinking of what he has done to you. Just reassure him that it is fine, that you do not hold it against him. He tells you the stories of the stars from both the Human world and the Devildom. Creating a nest just for you two(sometimes three with Beel). Drawing on your body little pictures and even notes for you to find in the mirrors when you change (maybe even a tiny mark). It’s the little, almost completely silent things when it comes to him. He might be a little mean, but he never makes you feel unloved.
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neteyamswifee · 1 year
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𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝑔𝒶𝓏𝒾𝓃𝑔; 𝘕𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘮 𝘹𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
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Romantic Story about you and Neteyam Stargazing.
Warnings: Smut, toe curling- feet kicking stuff , bad grammar and no proof read, i guess thats it.
It‘s my first story and english is not my first language SO pls be gentle:,)
I was mad. Angry and disappointed with my brother's behavior and the consequences that followed. Ao'nung had known very well from thousands of conversations with our father what he thought of unauthorized excursions outside the reef.
But then also take someone who doesn't know their way around and then leave them there. Alone? My brother was lucky that Loak had taken the blame.
But since dad knows his children, there was a lecture behind closed doors anyway.So now it was my turn to apologize to the Sullys. Or at least with Neteyam, who got sucked into it all. I really felt sorry for him now. Every time his brother messed things up, he had to pay for it.I knew that all too well. I was starting to feel like the babysitter, the one who was sent to make things right without anyone noticing.
Actually I should have drowned Ao’nung after this drama he caused.
Instead, I was on my way to the Sullys' hut, basket in hand and a smile on my face. So I should apologize on behalf of my family.
As if this were my job...
But instead of the whole Sully family, all I saw was Neteyam staring at the floor.He was sitting on his bed, his hands propped behind him, and he was looking down at his stretched out legs.
"Hey.." I started waiting for his reaction. Neteyam looked up in surprise and smiled sadly.
"Hey nice to see you what are you doing here?"He sat up and stretched while I set the basket down in the corner.Neteyam has always been good-looking. Jake showed me and Tsireya some childhood photos of him and Loak because he knew how embarrassed Loak was in front of Tsireya.He was slim but muscular even as a child and an absolute charmer.
 No one has ever thrown compliments like that at me just to take me for a walk on the beach. But Neteyam was gentle and respectful. He was never pushy and always gave me enough space. I didn't really know what exactly that was with us. It felt like friendship, but in some moments more intimate than a friendship should be.What I kind of liked was his jealousy when I was talking to other Metkayina. Neteyam used to do this weird thing with his eyes as he looked me up and down and then smiled away the flirty comments the guys made. It gave him a kind of confidence that reassured me what a good leader he would be.
Right now he's looking more downcast as he tries to somehow smile at my father's gift of exotic fruit that I'm pointing to."It comes from my father, I think everyone here knew it was my brother's fault. I apologize for his behavior."Neteyam's eyebrows rose. "Thanks to your Father Blut that wouldn't have been necessary, they're just children, what can you do?" I sighed. He was again far too good-natured. Another reason why the clan would be mighty proud of him.
"I'm sorry for you too." I whispered and wrapped my arms around my body. "I mean you really have to take a lot with your brother, the expectations of the family and now your escape. You seem so composed. I'm overwhelmed with my brother." I laughed. I could hardly imagine his train of thought in the last few weeks.
"Yeah." He murmurs, sitting back on the bed with a sigh and patting next to him as a sign for me to sit down, which I'm doing."You know even if I don't show it, sometimes I could really cry when I think about all of this. I mean I'm proud of my family, but all of this is unfair."I put a hand on his leg to let him know I understand. "I am very sure that you can do all this. My family would tear for a son like you, I think."
Neteyam shakes his head and fixes my hand on his leg, then my eyes. "If I had a daughter like you, I wouldn't worry about the son anymore. You do a lot more than necessary."I shrug my shoulders, rolling my eyes. "As a first born daughter I don't think I can do enough to be placed on the same level as your brain burned brother."
Neteyam sits on the floor and pulls me down with him. All he does is hold my hand while he looks at me like I offended him.He squeezes my hand, which is so much smaller than his."Stop making yourself worse than you are." He pauses, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of my face and running his finger down my chin."i see u y/n. With full respect."I spit out almost implausibly until I realize how serious he means it. "I see u too Neteyam." I whisper.
The next few weeks were just weird in a cute way. Of course, Neteyam always showed me respect, but never like on our last night. There was that intimacy I was talking about again. And since then I, as well as Neteyam, have been more open about our feelings. Instead of a little smile when we crossed paths, he literally stared after me, put his arm around me in public, the compliments were no longer thrown at me, no, I was literally showered.
And now they were all sitting around the campfire. My people and his family celebrated our coming together while I and Neteyam had long since made off."Where are you going?" I ask quietly as we stumble across the sand together. He holds my hand and invites me into the water. I just follow him silently and wait for an answer.
As we stand chest-deep in the water, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me towards him, and I immediately wrap my legs around him. This is the first time we've been this close. And it's the first time Neteyam has renounced all of his resolutions. I look deep into his eyes, almost seeing his pure soul and the Na'vi I've lusted after for so long. All my heart was screaming for was this moment here."You trust me don't you?" He raised his eyebrows.
"always."
I answer quietly and have the feeling that I have swallowed my voice.Neteyam swims out a few meters to a rocky seat just before the end of the reef. I reluctantly let him get out of the water before he pulls me onto the cold stone slab. In front of us the open sea and the sound of the waves."I just hope that the lunar cycle doesn't put a spanner in the works"
I bow my head in confusion, but a short time later I understand what he means. A shower of stars tears open the sky. Individual long white threads shoot past the heavens like rain. With my mouth open, I admire the game in the sky.
"Neteyam-"I get up to get a closer look. "that is beautiful. "That was it. Most likely the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"That's it."
I hear Neteyam saying, who looks at me enthusiastically as I look down at him. Only then do I realize that he means me. He takes my hand and I sit down with him on the pleasantly lukewarm ground, warmed by the hot springs nearby."I was actually going to do this a few weeks ago, but missed the moment to ask you." he says dejectedly, as if he hadn't just given me the most beautiful present in the world.I take his hand and put the other hand on his neck. "It's perfect." I breathe in amazement.
The moment Neteyam licks his lips and kisses me just feels blurry.His lips are soft, gentle. Even as he kisses me so urgently, I can feel the caution in his kiss. While his one hand rests on my thigh and squeezes it lightly, his other hand travels from my face down to my waist. As gently as he kisses me, as gently as he turns us around until he lies between my legs. At that moment I feel everything and nothing at the same time, simply because it seems so surreal. His hand still on my waist as he kisses wantingly down my neck. It's warm, as are the kisses as it travels down my chest. He looks up, I'm breathing heavily and just want him to continue. But he elicits my silent approval in the form of a nod before touching points that make me moan.Neteyam is slow, just to torment me he kisses every part of my thighs before tampering with my wet sensitivity.I giggle because he keeps me waiting so long but enjoy it.
As soon as he touched my soft spot, I only hear a soft moan from him, which drives me crazy. I've never seen Neteyam so excited but the way he's looking at me like a goddess makes me weak. He keeps going, never missing an opportunity to touch me anywhere, until he stops. I exhale violently.His face appeared over mine. It's his eyes I look into, his tongue pressing against his cheek as he enters me. Fucked me almost unconscious."fuck you are so incredibly beautiful." he gasps. His eyes wander over my whole body, my face, my breasts on which he distributes kisses. On his thing that breaks me down.
I claw his back and accept the tugging sensation in my stomach that washes over me just before I come and Neteyam pulls himself out of me. The white liquid lands on my stomach.It feels like minutes he's still crouched over me looking me in the eyes just before he collapses next to me. Still breathing heavily, I turn to face him. He kisses my forehead."Im glad ." he grins and caresses my cheek. "how come?" I ask laughing.Neteyam shrugs. "Well. There's no place I'd rather have done it than with you here. A month ago I didn't even have the guts to kiss you, you know? I think it was right because i really,like, really like you." He kisses my forehead dreamily and I smile.I snuggle up to his neck, breathe in the scent of sea air and watch the stars in the sky, which are our only witness.
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lemonmelonboy · 6 months
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Lonely for the First Time Ever
Jack x Reader
TW: Ian /j, Cheating, Loneliness
Content: GN!Reader
Word Count: 3317
Summary: My own fun take on Day 1 (?) of Somethings Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.
18+ Readers ONLY - Minors Do NOT Interact! Minors/Ageless Blogs will be Blocked!!!
I Do NOT give any permission for my work to be Reposted, Translated, or used with AI in ANY Capacity!!!
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You had just dragged yourself out of your apartment after being called in to cover your flakey co-worker for possibly the millionth time that year. You surely missed your days off at this point, wishing to have just one every week rather than every other week. You sighed heavily walking down the sidewalk, as Jack trailed alongside you. It was cold and stormy, the rain was pelting the sidewalk and cars were passing by in a slum. It was such a peaceful walk.
You walked silently with Jack politely carrying your umbrella; you had protested but he very much insisted he take it for you. The rain soothed your racing mind, but that only made it so you thought slower about the things on your mind. You ran over what had just happened before you were rudely interrupted by your boss’s phone call. How Jack had held you so close, how you imagined kissing him for a brief moment, and how you wish you had. You mulled it over and over, unable to shake the image of the cuddly Jack. How Jack had looked at you with those love sick eyes. How bad you wanted to stay. Thoughts raced about why, which brought up feelings from the past few months. But as you slipped into your thoughts Jack gently bumped your arm, a playful event that he’d tend to do on your walks. It made you smile, he always knew how to make you smile, especially with little things like that. You look around trying to keep yourself in the present, but the pittering of the rain on the umbrella and sidewalk luls you back into thoughts of Jack and your loneliness.
“Sunshine?” Jack's voice cooed kindly. You looked up to him, suddenly pulled back.
“Hm?” you looked around as you realized you almost walked straight by your work. A soft embarrassed blush works its way across your cheeks.
You slip into the door, walking to the back to set your things down, ignoring Barry’s comments on how thankful he is you could come in and how absolutely sorry he is for having to do it. When you come back from the back of the store you find he had already left. You sigh as you find yourself alone in the shop, going through your list of menial tasks for the day. You work quietly as Jack hangs around, quietly helping when he can. It's weird to have him be so comfortable with how quiet you’re being. Usually he does anything to try to fill the silence, like whistling a small tune. However the man who stood before you now would only give you an encouraging smile whenever you looked at him and never said a word, not until you spoke up.
“Jack..” You sighed his name as you relaxed against the counter having finished all the tasks you needed to. You didn’t even have anything to tell, least not in a way you knew how. He perked up like a puppy being offered a treat.
“Yes, sunshine?” he asks sweetly. You looked at him and could feel your body warm as you saw his happy face and his kind eyes looking at you almost needingly. You mull over a single thought in your head and he can see you are resisting saying what you were thinking. “Is everything alright?” his happy look slowly fades to concern. Then he looks away with a soft blush on his cheeks. “It's okay to want that.. to want to be wanted..” he said breathily and quietly, almost like he was embarrassed by his own words.
“Wh-what are you saying?'' How did he know? You were sure you were only thinking to yourself, and you weren’t a vocal thinker.
“I just… sometimes people are like that for you, and it's okay to have a person you want to be with all the time… to want them to want you… and wanting them..?” He ended it like a question, almost like he wanted you to just admit it all to him right then and there.
“Wha- I- '' You didn’t know what you should say to him. You were so embarrassed at the implication that he was who you wanted- or the implication you wanted someone else.
“Do you… want me?” he asked, quieter than ever. He was still pretty blunt with it- looking at you with a pair of hopeful puppy eyes that made your body scream for you to just say “yes” and let him hold you. “I know it's hard to say- but I can help you learn what words to use to express these feelings.” He gently urges, moving closer to you reaching out almost as if he was ready to hug you, and hold you and possibly never let go.
“But- I- it's just that’s- you can’t just ask something like that- I-“ He moves closer, his hands resting on the counter behind you, he makes a point of not touching you yet, but wanting to get closer to you. A warmth spreads over your face into a sweet blush as you figure out how to answer. You felt in that moment that you wanted him to hold you, to grab you the best he could.
“I want to be there for you- whether you want me like that or not.. I’ll be there for you however you need me- I just want what’s best for you- What will make you happy-'' suddenly your phone starts ringing, interrupting Jack and causing him to step away. A soft frustrated look comes over his face as he looks away. You take up the cell phone, glad to have been interrupted right then, afraid if he continued your heart would have given out.
“Oh- Uh- I'll be- back!”
Jack nods slightly, “It might be important- so- don’t worry alright? I’ll still be here when you get back!” He said encouragingly as he let you walk past him.
You really shouldn’t be taking calls at work, but you didn’t care. You also didn't care if the call was spam and you picked it up without checking the name plastered on the screen. You quickly ducked to the kitchen camera blind spot.
“Hello?” You spoke with that pitch in your voice encouraging the person calling to speak. You were hopeful it was something that would take your mind off everything.
“You picked up-“ an all too familiar voice came through, in awe, and dripping with desperation. You froze, the last person you ever wanted to hear, especially with how your day was going. Ian. “Hey..” He spoke again, trying to fill in your quiet response. You hadn’t forgotten about him, but you hadn’t expected he’d call you while you were at work. “Are you alright?” he asked with concern in his voice.
“Ye-yeah, I’m fine..” You could hear him sigh softly in relief as you responded.
“I-I’ve missed you… and your voice..” he almost whimpered into the phone.
“What- what do you need Ian. I’m- at work, you can’t be calling me like this” You asked quietly, surprise still filling your tone more than any anger or demandingness.
“I-I know,, I didn't expect you to pick up! I-I’m sorry…” Ian said, he sounded so sad, and you do feel a little bad. He was your life long friend, and what felt like even longer lover. But he hurt you, and objectively you know you shouldn’t feel sorry for him, or how you treat him.
“You’ve said.. And I don’t forgive you Ian.. You know I am still mad at you.” There’s silence from him. You bite your quivering lip, pushing back a sob, thinking he must be feeling the same. “I-” You huff out, collecting yourself before you continue. “I’m trying to move on.” You say, a little sad hearing yourself say it.
“You’re- You’re what...” you can hear his heart break more in his voice, and you might’ve felt it just a bit yourself. “You’re not,, with someone right? Because… I am trying. I am going to fix this… And-” You cut him off
“Ian... Its not your problem whether I am with someone or not… We aren’t… We are not us anymore. So- what I do isn’t any concern for you...” You speak in a soft frustrated tone, you try to give him patience especially since you’ve trapped yourself into this conversation.
“But... can't it? Be, my problem? I-I need to make this up to you… You’re… All I’ve had since we were little- and… We’ve been through so much I- and I know this is my fault- and I need to fix this. Please. Let me fix this… Fix us…” he begged, and somewhere in you, you could feel the need to let him, to just give him the time to “fix” what he did, just so you could have him back. So you could feel less lonely. But no, you wouldn’t be able to handle it if he cheated on you again.
Breaking up with Ian was just as big of a loss for you as it was for him. You both lost someone you never thought you would. And God you had loved him. And who knows, maybe you still did, just a little. He took your silence as an urge for him to continue making his case. “I know I can make it up to you... I promise... I miss you so much- I-I want you so badly. And- I’ll be there soon to show you that what I’m saying is true '' he ends his statement with a happy hum, almost proud. You couldn’t take it anymore, you could hear customers in the front of the clowny yogurt shop come in, chatting modestly among themselves
“Goodbye... Ian.” you say, colder than you would’ve thought you could. You hung up before he could beg you to stay and talk to him more. You take a few slow calming breaths and turn to leave, noticing Jack standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Jack…” you mutter to yourself, afraid he might’ve overheard the call. He looks to you with a concerned kindness, one that he tends to give you whenever you notice Ian called you and left another message. You look away from Jack and walk quickly past him into the store, slapping on your customer service face and attitude.
Greeting the group of boys mulling in the front of the store. They seem preoccupied going through the yogurt flavors, which unfortunately gives you the time to think through things again. Your mind drifts, thinking of memories of Ian, clearer now than they had been that morning. One memory in particular, it was how he had looked when you kicked him out after finding out he had cheated on you. After running that memory in your mind a few times the memory of meeting Jack slowly started playing too. It hadn’t been long after Ian had left either, and you still weren’t completely sure where he came from. If he was a hallucination, could it have been your loneliness that made you imagine this pretty clown man to befriend you? Maybe that was why he was so attached to you? But, Jack certainly felt real, everytime he touched you, it felt real and so very safe. Maybe you did want him? Your thoughts were broken by a shy dark haired boy who stood in front of you. He couldn’t have been much younger than you, and he sported a gray and black shirt with a large black coat.
“We’re ready- to uh- pay- whenever you are?” he seemed nervous, a light blush spreading over his cheeks as he looked away from you, shifting nervously on his feet. One of the guys in the group set down the last of the three yogurt cups onto the scale, and you finish up their transaction. As two of the three guys start to leave the guy in the dark clothing lingers, glancing slyly at you, trying not to stare but also seeming to also want to admire you. “So- uh- you- work here often?” His blush deepens and he looks away again, clearly embarrassed. You can't help but be confused, annoyed and a little humored by his awkwardness.
“Yeah- unfortunately” you reply, attempting to give a light hearted air to your words.
“C-cool- Cool.” he pushes out, almost relieved you didn't call him an idiot. He seems at a loss for words now too, wanting to continue the conversation but feeling too awkward. He makes small noises before he takes his frozen yogurt and walks out. Once he’s gone you give a sigh and a light smile lingers on your face as you think about how silly that interaction was.
The rain continues to pound outside and your day drones on uneventfully and lacking any customers. Soon enough it was time to close and you did so quickly and happily. By the time you were finished with your last sweep you almost skipped out of the store. Jack smiled softly to you as you locked the door, him holding your umbrella once again. Once you were ready you turned around and the pair of you quietly walked home. He nudges you again about half way through the walk, his familiar gentle motion to let you know he was still around.
Once home you quickly kick off your shoes and flop onto your couch with a heavy sigh. You relax with your eyes closed and a gentle sigh. God you needed this seat.
“Hey.. sunshine?” Jack's soft cooing voice sang as you felt his weight and warmth settle in next to you. “Can I ask- who’s Ian..?” he asked softly. You rolled your head up to look at Jack.
“He’s..” Your gaze falls away from the kind caring clown. “An ex..” You gently hug yourself as you feel yourself become warm from all your emotions washing through you. You wanted to talk about him with Jack. You wanted to get it out. You haven’t really told anyone about what happened. Jack wraps a comforting arm around you after seeing you close in on yourself. His other hand rests on your arms, encouraging you to open up. You swallow your emotion like its pill stuck in your throat, then you continue. “He was all I had since we were kids.. Best friends forever- least we were supposed to be..” You felt your lips gently quiver before shaking your head to try to push it away. “and,, as we had gotten older we became something.. More. I don't think we ever officially labeled it- but we both had the mutual understanding that- we were who the other wanted for,, forever..” You huff softly as you feel the sadness hit you harder than before and Jack pulls you into him. He hugs you just to let you know he’s listening and understanding, to let you know you’re safe.
“So why does it seem like you’re so upset with him.. if you,,” he lingers before continuing “if you.. love him” that question hung in the air for a while. After you don’t respond for a while Jack gently leads your head to look up to him. “I’m sorry if that was too much, sunspot. If you can’t-” You shake your head softly, almost nuzzling into his hand.
“No- no it’s okay Jack,,” you mumble while looking up to him with sad eyes. “Ian.. cheated on me..” You mutter before turning away, almost ashamed to admit it. He pulls you back, running his thumb over your cheek to soothe you.
“I’m so sorry…” he whispers sweetly to you. He was making you feel so cared for and safe and you craved every touch he gave.
“And…” you felt your eyes slowly start to water. “He was all I had for so long... that when I made him leave I… became so very lonely.” You almost whimper to Jack, trying your best not to cry as you spoke. “I miss him so much Jack...” you whisper as you hide your watery eyes against his hand. “Then you came and you were so safe and I'm afraid I don’t feel genuine enough- like I should for you… or if I just feel these things for you because I can’t for Ian.” Tears pour from your eyes as you bite your lip, your voice and body shaking as you fight back sobs. Jack kindly rubs your back and swipes away the tears running down your cheeks.
“And because of that- I'm- afraid I make myself more lonely by pushing you away because I- don't wanna hurt you…but I still probably do hurt you..” You shake your head looking away and leaning against Jack's chest. He softly shushes you and hugs you tightly as you gently sob into him. “And you're so open, and honest, and kind and I don’t know if I’m completely able to feel all of this emotion as much as I want to- just… feel you hold me like this” you whimper as you cling against Jack, gripping his shirt tightly in your hands.
“It’s okay... I’ll be here for you however you need me… always” he promises you, resting his cheek against the top of your head and gently nuzzling. “You don’t have to tell me what you don’t feel you can,, you don’t have to do anything- feel anything you don’t want to feel.” He gives you a firm squeeze as you slowly calm down “You’re perfect…you didn’t deserve what they did to you- but it's okay to feel bad… or even miss them...” His words are like honey, slowly creeping into all your painful thoughts and soothing them, lessening their raw, burning pain. Being heard, letting it out, had helped tremendously. Especially with how Jack was holding you, close and warm.
“I’m sorry...” You murmur, feeling Jack’s hand on your back slowing. “I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you,, or disappointed you or burdened you or- '' Jack sits up and grabs your face gently. Holding you on either side with his hands, making you look him in the eye.
“None of that sunspot.” He said firmly, his eyes full of nothing but determined care. “You. Are. Perfect.” he says again “You are so amazing- Please never say any of that again” he demanded, his thumb running over your cheek. You look at him with adoration and understanding. You were so close. You nod softly and nuzzle into his hands, soaking up his sweet comforting warmth.
“Jack...” you whisper before looking up to him again with your eyes lingering on his lips. Before you know it, your body draws itself into Jack’s more and your lips find their way to pressing up against his. You feel him push back against your kiss, his hands holding you firm against him. You reach up and gently take one of his hands to lace your fingers together. You felt so overwhelmed with love at that moment. You didn’t want to pull away, but you felt Jack’s lips slowly retreat. You open your eyes and spot Jack’s deep red cheeks and fond eyes looking at you.
“I'm so glad you’re feeling better sunshine.” He says sweetly, and you instinctively nuzzle into the hand against your cheek, turning your head and gently giving it a kiss. That only seems to fluster Jack more. He pulls you against him again, similar to how the pair of you were seated earlier that morning, but this time you didn’t hesitate to kiss Jack as soon as you were situated. The pair of you layed there, trading soft and passionate pecks. Jack occasionally whispers loving praises to you, and soon, you fall asleep in exhaustion against his chest.
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p1stach1os · 19 days
Text
Valentine (c.g)
“i blinked and suddenly i had a valentine”
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a/n: inspired by valentine by laufey! this is really bad but i have nothing else to post so this will have to do. me and  @gr7mes did laufey inspired fics so go look at hers 😋.
pairings: carl grimes x fem!reader
c/w: fluff (again ik i have no variety) kissing, lower case intended, use of y/n, not proof read yet.
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you and carl were currently sitting down backs leant against a tree near his house. his arm wrapped around your shoulder while you both just sat. enjoying each others company sitting peacefully next to each other. making jokes from time to time as the bright sun shinned down on the two of you having your hand cover your face shielding you from the light.
ever since you confessed your feelings for carl, and you found out he liked you back. you no longer knew how to act around him. just the thought of someone liking you left a funny feeling in your stomach. 
you had both started dating about a week or two ago. though the feelings between the two of you were definitely mutual, you almost felt like you were just too awkward. you were always awkward around carl as everything he did made your heart flutter. you had never been in relationship before and you felt out of place. there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you, you weren’t doing enough. carl was so sweet to you always reassuring you of how much he loved you. 
any sort of affection he tried to show you, though you appreciated it. you turned it down not wanting to get yourself attached. you tried your best to not get get too close to anyone, i mean in a world like this you weren’t ready to grow attached to some one just yet.
i’ve rejected affection for years, and years.
he was always saying cute things like “i love you” or “your so beautiful” and you responded in the worst ways possible. or sometimes you didn’t respond at all, you felt like you weren’t ready for a relationship. but you wanted to be, you loved carl so much and you definitely wanted to be with him. you just were never taught about this relationship stuff, and didn’t know how to tell him that.
now i have it, and damn it, its kinda weird
you would think not having relationship experience either carl would be about just as awkward as you were. but for some reason he just had a natural charm that he always used on you, and oh it certainly worked.
as you guys still sat next to each other, hand in hand, your minds both else where. carl decides to break the silence between the two of you.
“you’re so pretty.” he says looking down at you with a soft smile on his face. you were beyond flattered by the compliment but you couldn’t seem to come up with a response to it. carl was always the type to give you random compliments out of the blue for no reason.
he tells me that im pretty, don’t know how to respond.
 “uh- you too.” you giggle awkwardly, immediately the embarrassment washed over you when you had realized what you said. you can’t believe you just said that, he just complimented you and you responded like that.
i tell him that he’s pretty too, can i say that? don’t have a clue.
all he does is laugh softly at your comment causing you to get even more embarrassed. your face growing a deep cherry red as you wish you could go back in time at that moment.
“im sorry carl.” you began to apologize, carl was so sweet to you and you couldn’t even form a sentence around him.
“for what?” he glances at you face full of confusion. he wondered why would you be apologizing, you didn’t do anything wrong?
every time you were around carl or he said something to you, you got so easily flustered. you didn’t want things to be awkward between the two of you and you felt like you always made it like that. 
“i don’t know, i just feel like your to good for me.” “your so nice to me and i cant even be a good girlfriend.” you say looking back at him frowning slightly.
“i mean your always giving me compliments and little gifts you find.” you say fiddle with your fingers in anxiety of what he might respond.
“that’s ridiculous, your the best and only girlfriend i could ever ask for.” he says in disbelief that you would ever think less of yourself.
carl saw you for what you were, you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever met. he couldn’t ask for anyone better because you were all he ever needed. it hurt him that you didn’t view yourself in the same way.
“you mean it?” you say smiling up at him
'Cause I think I've fallen In love this time
he smiles back, reassuringly reaching out to caress the side of your face. he would do anything to prove his love to you. he almost enjoyed how flustered you’d get by his simple words. he didn’t understand why you being awkward was a problem. he no longer wanted you to feel ashamed of how you reacted to certain things he did or said.
I blinked and suddenly, I had a Valentine
“of course i do.” “why wouldn’t i?” all you do is smile at his comforting words, him smiling right back. oh to be loved by carl grimes was truly an experience.
“you want me to prove it?” he says in a low tone of voice.
your eyes widened in both shock and anticipation. as usual you couldn’t seem to come up with a response to what he had said. 
after a few moments of silence he cups both sides of your face, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. his soft lips on yours almost drove you crazy. his lip’s against yours almost felt
What if he's the last one I kiss?
you kiss back hesitantly at first, but slowly ease into the kiss more growing comfortable with your lips against his. he finally pulls apart from you after what felt like ages, your cheeks still a bright shade of red.
What if he's the only one I'll ever miss?
“you believe me now?” he says laughing as you do the same. carl grimes was the only person who could ever make you feel this way, and im sure he knew of it.
The first one to ever like me back, I'm seconds away from a heart attack
“sure thing grimes.” you say your heart still beating at a rapid pace just thinking about the kiss. more silence lingers between the two of you before he speaks again.
“i love you so much, y/n.”
“i love you too carl.” smiling to yourself as you lean your head against his shoulder.
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And honestly, I can't believe I get to call you mine.
a/n: zoes is much better than mines so go look at hers!!
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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months
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i'm really embarrassed to make this request because I'm like, the person who least knows how to use tumblr and i've never even made a comment, but I love your writing so I'm going to try request
can you do jax, caine or raghata (whatever you feel most like writing) x a goth reader who is actually a very sweet person? (the kind of person who looks like he eats bats for breakfast and kicks puppies, but it will be really affectionate and kind) also it would be cool if the reader played eletric guitar, but that's just my ego that is proud to play speaking for me, it's not really necessary
sorry if I wasn't really clear, if the request is cringe or if my english is bad, it's not my first language so i'm trying my best
Jax, Caine, and Ragatha x sweet!goth!reader !
This isnt a weird request at all! Actually this is pretty tame/normal(????) Compared to some requests (trust me I've gotten requests that are far weirder than this that I didnt even bother publicly denying because the subject material was just so.....
You know?
Written on mobile!!
Gonna do this request then let my phone charge and then get back on requests!! Been slacking a little this week
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CAINE:
Honestly I think caine absolutely LOVES your style. Like obviously you may look a little funky since you know, digital world.. but I think he would still be allured by your looks... he is totally thrown for a loop when you reveal your personality though.! Not that hes complaining, though, he has a sweet tooth, you know
He WOULD use that line, too
Oooo if you're able to do your makeup and it's not just a part of your face he would love to sit with you and help you
RAGATHA:
I dont think she would hate goth fashion, but I do think she would be a little intimidated by how intense you look... I mean, you look like you're into really intense stuff
Except
You're not
I think she would feel really... really bad.. when she gets to know you and finds out you're one of the sweetest people shes ever met
Likes listening to you play your electric guitar.. sometimes makes song requests!
Loves playing with your hair
....
I think she would let you dress her up and do her makeup, if you offer
JAX:
Getting this out of the way; OUR FAVORITE HC! THE FIDGET HC!! if you have any dangling accessories jax is going to fidget and play with it
Torn between making jax the type to tease you or think it looks cool...
Both, I can see him doing both
Its thinly veiled hints of him being into your aesthetic/style
You kind of see the gears working in his head when he realizes you don't act at all how he thought you were gonna act
So sweet.. so kind...
Such a.. vulnerable target for his pranks!!/j
But actually../hj...
I think he would be into goth people tbh Idk why it just dawned on me
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thequietkid-moonie · 2 months
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Request: Marinette and Adrien with a friend who knows that they are Ladybug and Chat Noir, but doesn't tell them until they reveal it.
Their friend knows their true identity
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[ HEADCANONS ] [ Marinette, Adrien ]
[ Miraculous Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir ]
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Hehehe I liked writing this a lot! It was so funny to think!! Hope you liked it!
Im not sure if this is that good but I did my best!
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Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Marinette always tries her best to find a balance between her normal life and her duty as one of the heros of paris, still she can struggle to find a proper way to do it, and even to be able to hide her secret identity since, most of the time, she can't just come up with a good excuse of why she has to go all of the sudden
The Miraculous magic can help her hide her identity but still as her normal self she can slip some commets or bad excuses, and if you know her enough you would be able to see that this is more than her usual clumsiness
No matter how you find out about she actually being Ladybug confronting her won't be a really good idea since it will make her feel really anxious, passing from trying to come up with a excuse or an argument to convince you that she isn't actually Ladybug (what probably just fails) to feel like a failure for letting someone find out about this (not that she would mad at you but at herself since now she thinks you can be on danger)
In the other hand, keeping it to yourself would be rather easy, specially since you two are friends she trust you so even if you aren't that good to hide the secret or say some comments that can hint that you know can be brush it off by an excuse (mainly because she prefer to believe you don't know yet)
Now that you know her identity you can understand her strange behavior or weird excuses that she say when there is danger that Ladybug has to take care of, and if you decide to help by trying to come up with a better excuse or just agreeding with her excuses so she can leave will help her a lot, she may find it a little strange sometimes but she will be relief that you believed her excuse more than anything (and she will even be grateful is you help her have an excuse to leave, even if is indirectly helping her)
If you treat her as usual whenever she met you as Ladybug she will be a little surprised (although, will leave the wondering to later, when none of you are danger), still she can be easily tricked by saying something like everyone put their trust on the heroine of Paris, not that she is too naive but she already knows you (you are her friend after all) and is just happy that you trust in Ladybug
If she ever decide to reveal her identity to you (or may even happen by accident) she will try to explain why she didn't say it before or that she want you to keep the secret and that she is trusting you with her life, she is more anxious than anything (even if she planned it), but when you tell her that you already knew it, she mood completely turn to be surprised and even embarrassment, at the end she will have the same chat of asking you to keep the secret but now she is a little bit more relief and will even laugh at this whole situation at the end
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Adrien Agreste
Adrien knows how dangerous can be if someone gets to know his true identity, besides he enjoy a lot being Cat Noir, it gives him some freedom that he appreciate a lot so he also tries to protect that part of his life
Getting to know his true identity could be a little difficult for how diferent his personality is between him and the hero of paris, still you can find out if you put enough attention to his excuses to run away when is time to fight and if you know him enough
Deciding to confront him about is up to you, if you decide to tell him that you do know about his secret identity will be pretty shocking at first, but two are close friends and he knows that he can trust you then, at the end, he won't thing is a really bad thing, he will feel troubles and a little disappointed on himself for being so careless but assure you that he isn't mad at you or anything, if anything he is happy that if someone get to know that person is you, his friend
If you decide to tell him he won't accept it right away but will be more comfortable over time to rely on you to come up with excuses and even tell you how he feels by being a hero, as well if he gets to save you or just cross path with you while being Cat Noir he won't doubt on making a joke and even remark how you are just another random citizen of paris that he got to help. However, if he get to meet you while being Cat Noir but he doesn't know you know is him he will stile being cheerful and make some jokes but still be respectful to don't be so obvious with the fact that he already knows you
It isn't always that he has to come up with an excuse, he got already used to have a plan to cover up whenever he isn't in his room or when he has to come up with an excuse when he is busy with his extracurricular activities, so even if you were willing to help him to come up with an excuse is more likely that would have to be durinfg school, still that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate whenever you help him with the excuse or cover up his ausence (but he does it mentally, unless he already knows that you know his identity)
If he ever decided to tell you about his secret identity it would be after thinking about it a lot and because he knows it would be necesary or helpful because the last thing he wants is to bring you troubles, so he would be trying to get ready to this, but if you admit that you already knew it will make him feel a little embarrassed but at the end will just laugh at it, in this case it would be easier for him to get comfortable and talk to you about his duty and all of that since it was his plan to tell you
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