#and maybe I shouldn’t judge. I really am not

[grimxark]

I think feminizing transformers is rlly fun and I love calling Megatron a woman because in my heart he is. But I think sometimes some things should be left alone and it’s insane how some people will sexualize characters to hell and back if they perceive them as a woman and I think that’s a little insane. Like genuinely a little crazy. Er I hope I’m making sense. Not to say ppl can’t have fun with it

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now | 2 |

in which readers true feelings are revealed.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings/tags: angst again (whoops) miscommunication (it’s short dw) fluff, reader is hungover lol, spencer is handsomely disheveled (moans) mentions of blueberry muffins being readers favourite type of muffin (sorry for not being vague but also if you don’t like blueberry muffins??? why) some tears, some swearing, some kissing, suggestiveness at the end of you squint (WHOOPS *evil smirk*) no use of y/n!! wc: 2.1k a/n: call me slim shady because i am back!!! i procrastinated writing this because i was scared everyone was secretly judging my writing and actually hated it and a second part would be a stupid idea but THEN i realised that was a little bit silly so im here B) part one got over 1000 notes (INSANE) all the support has been so so lovely—every note, reblog, and comment means the world to me, thank you!! i hope this part is okayy, feedback is always appreciated :) i hope you enjoy it you choose to read!!! <3 p.s kissing scenes are so difficult to write, i think i done absolutely awful!!!so let’s ignore that…. if you haven’t already and you’d like to, you can read part one here!

Your eyelids twitched as the early morning sun filtered through your bedroom. What was usually a calming wake-up call now felt like being blinded.

You burrowed your face into your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to dull the throbbing in your head. This is why you didn’t drink often.

Asides from the obvious headache and nausea, you always seemed to wake up with a sense of dread; ‘hangxiety’—a friend had called it once. It was creeping up on you now, and even though you weren’t sure exactly what you had done, you knew it was bad. You flipped onto your back, fixing your gaze to the ceiling as if it could tell you what irreparable mistakes you had made last night.

It couldn’t, of course. The only thing you had realised is that you should probably coat it in a new layer of paint soon.

“How’re you feeling?”

You shot up, eyes widening at the sight of a man in your doorway. A man whose sleepy voice and disheveled hair threatened to make you melt, but a man who should not be in your doorway, nonetheless; Spencer.

Your brain was quick to supply you with information then, your memory coming back in hazy remnants. You were upset so you…called Spencer for the first time in months. Yikes. He didn’t answer so you turned to a bottle of high end whiskey instead—yikes, again—and passed out on your couch, only to wake up to your ex-boyfriend in your apartment. Cue more sobbing, a pathetic attempt at asking—no, more like begging—him to get back together with you, and that was it. Well, mostly. There was also the promise of discussing your breakdown in the morning. The morning, which was now.

What the fuck.

“Like I’ve been napalmed.” You weren’t sure you were just referring to your raging hangover.

That prompted a raspy kind of chuckle from him and Jesus Christ—you really shouldn’t have called, because it was going to be infinitely harder to watch him leave when he inevitably told you you were sad loser who needed to get a grip and move on—except, he’d be a lot nicer than that, wouldn’t he? Because even if things were over between you, he was still the sweetest person you had ever met and he’d never say anything to intentionally hurt you. Maybe things would be easier if he did. If he wasn’t so sickeningly perfect—if he just insulted you in the way you were certain you deserved, then maybe you’d get over him quicker.

“So, I-ah-uber’d breakfast—“

Your inner turmoil came to a screeching halt at those words.

“You uber’d? You?”

He scoffed, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“The team’s been very into it lately and I always finish my paperwork first so it only makes sense that I—stop laughing! I can uber!”

“Sorry! I just can’t imagine the great Doctor Reid stooping to the levels of a fast food delivery app. Do you ever order to the wrong place?”

“No.” he said, unconvincingly. “Well, only once—“

You were laughing again.

He whined, turning on his heel.

“Just take your aspirin and hurry up!” He grumbled petulantly as he left the room, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

After a quick freshen up and taking the pills placed on your bedside table—as per his request—you padded through to the living room, joining Spencer on the couch.

You gasped delightedly as he pulled out muffins from a brown paper bag. To be more specific, blueberry muffins; your favourite.

“Did you know that blueberries are good for fighting hangovers? They’re rich in vitamin C, which helps break down and metabolise blood alcohol. Muffins too, they—what? Do I have something on my face—“

“No! No, sorry,” You had been caught staring—ogling, more like. “I just missed…that.”

“What? My incessant rambling?” He was joking, but you could hear the insecure twinge in his voice—the one that told him he was too much. Over the course of your relationship, you had showed him that he didn’t have to think like that around you—that he was never too much; he was perfect in your eyes. You hated that he doubted that now.

“Yes, actually.” You tried to keep your tone light, unserious. But there was nothing unserious about just how badly you had missed the man sitting beside you. How you could hear his voice in your mind when you drove late at night, giving you statistics on accidents. Or how on other late nights, you swore you could feel his hands ghosting over your skin—only to find out it was your imagination.

If he could see how truthful you were being, he didn’t acknowledge it, turning his attention back to the coffee table.

“I’ll, um, save you the facts on how beneficial coffee is for hangovers, anyway.” He smiled awkwardly, shuffling a paper coffee cup to where your muffin sat.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, “for the coffee, not the withholding of information—i’m a real fiend for coffee facts…especially when they’re related to curing hangovers!” You said a little too cheerily, trying to alleviate the awkward tension. Although, that only seemed to make it worse.

Spencer just huffed out a little laugh in response, taking the wrapper off of his muffin.

The rest of breakfast went by in silence. Not the comfortable silence you always seemed to have with Spencer—when you were together, you reminded yourself—but a strained one. The kind of silence that occurs when there’s something left unsaid, and you’re just waiting for someone to spit it out.

Spencer broke first.

“So we should probably talk…about last night.”

You finished the remainder of your coffee, setting the empty cup down before turning your whole body to Spencer, tucking your legs up underneath you.

“Right, yeah…”

A beat passed, Spencer’s eyes darting around your face—assessing you.

For someone who had imagined this conversation in your mind countless times, you certainly weren’t saying much.

“I—uh…was very drunk.”

Something in him shifted, like he was putting up imaginary walls.

“So you didn’t mean…any of it?” His brow furrowed, his nose twitching slightly.

“Well no, but I—“ You what? Meant every word you said and more? You couldn’t just say that. You had just got a small part of Spencer back and you didn’t want to ruin it by coming on too strong.

He waited for you to add something, anything, to show him that maybe, maybe there was a tiny part of you that still wanted him as badly as he wanted you. But you didn’t. You just sat there, playing with the fabric of your—his—t-shirt.

He couldn’t do it.

He was so tired of loving people only for them to leave like he had meant nothing to them. Was that all he was to you? Someone you could call when your inhibitions were lowered, looking for comfort? He would do anything to be back in your life again, but he couldn’t be a person of convenience; someone you only wanted when you were lonely.

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing down the tightness in his throat.

“You were drunk and you got carried away, I get it. I think I better go though—“

“What? No, I—“ You bobbed your mouth like a fish, trying to find the words necessary to keep him here. There were too many of them and yet none at all. None except for three. Three words that you wished you had the courage to say months ago, or weeks ago, or last night. But you never claimed to be a courageous person, and you weren’t about to spill your heart out again only for it to end up in rejection.

Spencer stood, making his way to your bedroom to grab his shoes and coat. He didn’t care about his other clothes, he could buy more—he just needed out before he broke.

You sat dumbfounded on the couch, willing yourself to do something, say something. It was like you were frozen. And you stayed frozen. As Spencer shuffled around your bedroom, as he returned to the living room—completely avoiding your gaze—even as he searched for his keys. You hadn’t realised he had driven over here. He didn’t usually drive unless he had to get somewhere urgently. Were you someone worth seeing urgently to him?

He picked up his keys, heading for your door and only then did you realise how dire the situation was. If he left now you weren’t sure he would ever come back.

“No—wait, Spencer!” You stammered, lunging off the couch to try and stop him. He unlocked the door, moving to leave when you grabbed onto his jacket sleeve.

“Please don’t—I love you!”

“What?”

He turned to face you and you noticed just how wrecked he looked—not at all dissimilar from how you had for the last few months. Had he looked like that the whole time?

You must’ve been staring because when you came back to your senses he was calling your name exasperatedly.

“Do you mean it?”

You were fed up living like this; harbouring so much love for someone and not being able to express it. Even if he didn’t love you back, even if he was over you, you couldn’t go another moment without at least telling him how you felt.

“Yes,” you heaved, “I love you—I never stopped loving you, I was just…” You knitted your brows together, unsure how to phrase what you were feeling.

“I’ve never loved someone the way I love you and that’s…terrifying. I thought the way I felt was wrong, like—when you were on cases, I missed you so much, more than I thought humanely possible and—well, I never wanted to be the kind of girl to base her happiness on another person because that’s how you get hurt. So, I thought the only way to combat that was by…distancing myself. I thought if you weren’t in my life anymore then I’d be able to get a grip and become more independent—“ you huffed, trying to stop the wobble of your voice. “but it didn’t work, because then I was just missing you twice as much, except I couldn’t see you at all—“

“You could’ve answered my messages, we could’ve—“

“So you could return your key? Then things would actually be over. Why do you think I ignored your messages?”

“Why do you think I kept messaging? Angel, I was never going to return that key—at least not willingly—I just wanted to see you, to see if you were doing just as horribly without me as I was without you. You know, I couldn’t even focus on cases—Hotch even suggested I take some time off.”

You frowned, your voice impossibly small. “I’m sorry.”

He took a step toward you, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Don’t apologise, you were dealing with your emotions in the best way you knew how. I just wish…” he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I wish I hadn’t let you go so easily.”

His eyes were shining and—God, you wished you could take it all back. All the pain you had caused him, caused yourself, just because you were too scared to talk about your feelings.

“I wish I hadn’t left.” You blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes. “Y’know, I read a book on astrophysics because it reminded me of you. I didn’t understand any of it but I couldn’t put it down. I still—“ you let out a watery chuckle. “still have it in my bedroom somewhere.”

Spencer smiled, swiping under your eye at a tear that must’ve escaped.

“Yeah? Maybe I can read it to you—help you understand it.”

“I’d like that.”

You didn't know much about celestial bodies or the ultimate fate of the universe, but you could've sworn you'd seen the stars pictured in that book in Spencer’s eyes when he looked at you.

“Say it again.” He mumbled, tilting his head down so that your faces were just inches apart.

“I love you.”

And then his lips were on yours, impossibly soft and everything you had been missing since you had broken up. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed and all you could do was sigh into him because you knew the feeling.

He leaned back all too soon, resting his forehead against yours.

“Well, I should probably go—“ He smirked, but you cut him off before he could continue his teasing.

“You’re not funny.”

He narrowed his eyes, sucking his teeth.

“I don’t know, I—“

You pressed a firm hand on his chest, bunching the cotton of his t-shirt into a fist.

“Stop. Stay—we can have a pyjama day and maybe for dinner, you can show me just how tech savvy you’ve become and uber us some food—“

He rolled his eyes, kicking the door shut before pressing his lips to yours with more force this time.

“Stop talking.”

[slytherinshua]

MY FIRST LOVE

genre. fluff. warnings. mention of sungchan proposing like twice lmao?? pairing. sungchan x fem!reader. wc. 960. request. requested by anon: sungchan finding out he's your first love? a/n. skdjsk cute fluffy requests <33 esp for riize omg :( congrats anon, you made sungchan wreck me now 👹

“I don’t think I went out with girls that much before I met you. I got a lot of love confessions in school, though. Had my fair amount of crushes on girls, too.” Sungchan said as he scrolled through his phone. The conversation had been brought up naturally as you were doing your hair for your date tonight. 

“Did you like any of them better than me?” You asked, sort of as a throwaway question. Though, you were slightly curious. You had your own insecurities about relationships. You had never had proper crushes before— you never had time for it in high school. It wasn’t until college that you met Sungchan and fell in love for the first time. He was your first everything. First crush, first kiss, first boyfriend, first love. You hoped you were comparing to his past girlfriends. He seemed happy with you, but you had never really asked him.

Sungchan scowled, looking up from his phone to look at you through the mirror on your vanity, “What kind of a question is that? I barely remember them.”

“How do you forget your past girlfriends?” You frowned, confused at how that was possible. You definitely couldn’t imagine ever forgetting Sungchan if you broke up with him in the future. You hoped that would never happen, though. You didn’t need to have dating experience to know that Sungchan was one of the best men you would ever find.

Your boyfriend just shrugged, “I don’t know. I think I always knew that it wasn’t going to last. I could never see a future with them, no matter how hard I tried. It was inevitable that we were gonna break up eventually.”

You hummed in thought, “Then… Am I not like that?”

He giggled, “You’re so cute. No, you’re not like that. I know I have a future with you. I want to marry you someday, you know.” He said it so easily, smirking at the way your cheeks grew instantly red. You really didn’t know that because this was the first time that Sungchan had given you that little piece of information.

“What about you? How do I compare to your past boyfriends?” He asked to change the subject slightly, seeing how flustered he had made you.

You suddenly got nervous. Your boyfriend wasn’t the type to judge you, but you just had so many experiences of being judged for being single in the past. “You’re still single in your twenties?” or “You didn’t date at all in high school?” were the most common questions thrown your way. It always felt like something you should be ashamed of. Boys must’ve not thought you were pretty enough to ask out, or maybe it was something wrong with your priorities. You shouldn’t have put your studies over dating for all those years.

You had finally found solace from that uncomfort when you proudly could say that Sungchan was your boyfriend. Your old friends who had once questioned why you didn’t have a boyfriend seemed impressed with Sungchan, which gave you a much needed confidence boost.

“I… haven’t really…” You mumbled, your response crumbling before it could finish being told; your shoulders sinking in embarrassment.

“Hm?” You glanced at your boyfriend through the mirror, finding his gaze soft and eager to hear what you were going to say.

“I haven’t dated before this. You’re my first ever boyfriend.” 

Sungchan looked shocked, and then his face bloomed with joy, “Really? I’m your first boyfriend?!” He asked excitedly. You nodded, still a little embarrassed. “How!? I mean I’m happy— unbelievably happy— that I’m your first, but how did no one want to date you before? You’re the prettiest girl on the planet!” He insisted, and you only blushed more.

“I don’t know… No one ever did.” You murmured.

“Did you have crushes?” He asked, the grin never leaving his face. His excitement was contagious, and you eventually smiled as well.

“No, not really. Not until I met you.” You laughed.

“That’s crazy…” Sungchan giggled. He couldn’t ignore the elated feeling in his chest, buzzing with a million butterflies in his stomach. He hadn’t felt so happy since he had first kissed you. 

Sungchan would never let it go after that. Whenever there was an opportunity to bring it up, he would be reminding you that he was your first love (as if you could ever forget). He’d try to use it to get things he wanted as well— though, mostly hugs or kisses.

“You shouldn’t reject a hug from me because I’m your first love!” 

“Your first love is sad and needs kisses.”

Particular times when he would use it at just the right moment, softly whispering into your ear that he was your first love and about how much he loved you, it would make your heart race. It was no longer something to be insecure about, thanks to Sungchan. Now, it was something you would always be glad of.

After all, there was something magical about only ever having one person that you had given your heart to. And Sungchan took extremely good care of it. He treasured your entire being with everything he had, and exactly a year after he first found out he was your first, he proposed to you. He had always said it was inevitable to happen. Even though you weren’t his first, you still felt like it. He had never been in love with someone as intensely as he was with you, and he made sure you knew that. Even when he had put a ring on your finger and was absolutely certain that you were his for the rest of time, he still liked to make sure that you knew just how much he loved you.

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr

[nicestgirlonline]

dumb dumb

Pairing: Bucky x Dumbass!Reader

Warnings: none! lots of fluff ahead!!! 

Summary: Everyone can see the huge crush Bucky has on you...everyone except you of course.

Word Count: 3.7k and counting because I truly am incapable of being brief

A/N: This is for week one’s writer activity for  @the-slumberparty  the I Spy Challenge! I included all three of the items they shouldn’t be too hard to spot! I hope you enjoy it! Unbetaed, forgive me! Feedback is always appreciated :)

Update 2/17: You guys asked and now there's a Part 2

Typically it was Team Cap that were the first people awake in the Avengers Compound. Steve, Sam and Bucky were still on a soldier's schedule, usually getting up at 5 to work out before getting breakfast. 

So it was a bit of a surprise when they entered the kitchen to see the coffee was already brewed and you were helping yourself to a bowl of cornflakes. You were a Stark Industries biochemical engineer and judging  from your lopsided ponytail and your rumpled clothes, you had ended up sleeping in the lab. Again. Steve checked his watch, it was barely past 6. 

“Good morning! Another late night?” Steve asked.

“Morning Cap! Yeah, the thing about stomach acid is it's so fascinating I lost track of my time while studying it.” You cover your mouth to hide a yawn.  

“I think maybe only you think that.” Sam said, making you giggle a bit. Bucky entered the kitchen slightly later than the other two. His hair was damp and he had a towel wrapped around his neck, freshly showered. Steve definitely noticed that Bucky had started to insist on showering before breakfast right after the first time they discovered Y/N in the kitchen. 

“Good morning Bucky!” You greeted, internally cringing at how loud you were. He was taken aback each time he saw her in the morning. The usually coordinated assassin bumped into the side of the breakfast bar with his hip and winced. 

“Morning.” he mumbled and gave a little wave before immediately heading to get some coffee, walking off the bump. Sam and Steve both glanced at each other. 

“You should kick Bucky’s ass, it’s his samples keeping you up at night,” Sam joked. You blushed and filled your mouth with more cornflakes. You’d specifically been studying well, all of Bucky? The effects of Dr. Erskine’s serum on his body mixed with the cryosleep and the other HYDRA experiments was a vast array of knowledge to tap into.

“It's not his fault I’m bad at time management. I really should stop doing this though. I'm sure my apartment misses me.” You say quickly as Bucky silently fixes himself breakfast. He pulls out the bagels and cream cheese with a bit more anger than usual. He sent Sam a glare but didn’t say anything. 

“Well if you’re here less, we’ll start missing you, won’t we Buck?” Steve asked. Both of them knew about Bucky’s soft spot for the scientist, too bad he didn’t seem like he was ever going to do anything about it. 

Bucky didn’t really answer, just sort of muttered something. You tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear trying to hide a blush.

“I'm sure Bucky won’t miss me. He’s gotten enough of me poking and prodding him.” You said hoping it came off as a light joke. While Bucky had been very willing to provide all of the samples you’d asked for, you secretly were starting to feel like you were no better than HYDRA in his eyes…

“And stealing my blood for science?” Bucky asked, his tone still grim. “‘S’not so bad when you do it.” He gave a small smile that he hid behind a sip of coffee. Steve remained quiet a moment, hoping either of you would make a move but both of you stayed blushing and looking in other directions. 

“Say, I was wondering to get your opinion on something. If there was a fella who was trying to get something nice for a lady friend, are flowers too old fashioned?”

“A lady friend? Steve, are you dating someone?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny. But humor a hundred year old guy for a second here. If someone were trying to catch the eye of a modern woman such as yourself, would he have to buy you flowers, chocolates, diamond necklace?” He asked. You thought about it for a moment tapping your chin. 

“Gosh, not diamonds for me! I can’t wear any jewelry in the lab. I think flowers are nice! Everyone likes getting flowers sometimes. Maybe I should get some flowers for the whole lab, with Valentine's Day coming up and all.”  

Bucky smiled to himself. You were just the sweetest person he’d ever met. Always thinking about others. Steve of course caught the face and Bucky quickly turned away, trying to go back to neutral. It was such a stupid little crush, nothing more. 

x

You felt like your back might snap in half, that lab cot was really not optimal. You’d ended up staying in the lab past midnight and at that point it was easier to just crash than bother driving home.  You’d had to redo nearly all of your samples from yesterday, after your acid experiment melted nearly all the pipettes in the lab. You were probably going to have to get some more cheek swabs from Bucky too. 

You bit your lip. It was nice to have him in the lab so much. He didn’t talk a lot but he was always awfully sweet when he did. He also didn’t seem to mind your science babble. It was safe to say you’d developed a bit of a crush over the past few months. Too bad there was absolutely no way he felt the same way about you. He was a gorgeous Avengers for chrissake, he wasn’t going to date a dorky scientist who was studying the acid in his stomach. 

Speaking of the devil, when you got up to stretch a bit you were taken back by a face full of flowers, you leaped back in surprise. 

Bucky, wearing his sweatsuit like he had just gotten back from a run, was carrying a huge bouquet of pink and purple flowers. His face as usual was unreadable. You placed your hand on your now racing heart. 

“Bucky! I didn’t hear you come in!” You said as you regained your footing. 

“Uh sorry about that. Kind of a habit. Assassin.” He said with a shrug. The two of you stood in silence with the beautiful flowers separating you. Both of you  taking in the other. 

Can’t believe he looks so handsome while I’m sitting here looking like an absolute wreck

Can’t believe she looks so cute in the mornings while I’m in here looking like a creep. 

“These are beautiful!” You gesture to the flowers snapping the two of you back to reality. He half smiled and took a deep breath, ready for the little speech he'd prepared to go along with the ridiculous bouquet. 

“Yeah uh, I was just thinking about what you and Steve were talking about yesterday, with Valentine’s Day and all—“ He began. 

“It’s so nice that you got these for the lab!” You cried out taking them from his hands. Yesterday you had mentioned getting flowers for the whole lab, that must be what Bucky was referencing. 

“I…did. I did get these for the lab.” He said the smile now disappearing and back to his usual grumpy/ neutral expression. Some people found it a bit off putting but you had grown accustomed to it. 

“The techs are gonna flip, an avenger bringing us flowers! This is gonna brighten up the break room.” You squealed happily. It broke your heart a little, secretly hoping they had been for you. The gesture was really appreciated. Maybe he really didn’t mind all of your little experiments so much!

“I’m glad you like them.” He said. He sounded genuine but he looked so sad. You quirked your eyebrows, hoping that you’d be able to cheer him up if he stayed.  “Yeah so I’m gonna go now.” 

He quickly turned his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh you can stay—” You called after him but he was basically out the door. 

 “I’ve got to go on a run.” he called back.

“Oh.” you said to yourself as the door shut behind him. You clearly had been wrong, no way did Bucky like you at all. 

X

“Hey there I got a huge bunch of flowers for the lab. Because I think the lab is beautiful. And the lab is smart and funny. I really like talking to the lab even though I have no idea what the fuck to even say half the time.” 

“Talking to yourself again?” Steve asked, finally catching up with Bucky who had taken off at a mad man’s pace. 

“Eavesdropping again punk?”

“Flowers didn’t go over too well? I take it?”

“Not talking about it.” Bucky said picking up speed. Steve easily matched his pace, refusing to let his friend get away. 

“Maybe you should just ask her out. You used to be pretty good at that. Being charming.” Steve suggested. Bucky picked up speed again and Steve followed, the two of them now pushing hard. Nearly too hard for conversation. 

“Will you drop it?” Bucky grunted. There was no way she liked him. Why would she anyway? She was a beautiful, brilliant scientist and he was the grumpy old meanie avenger. 

“Just trying to help.” Now Steve was pissed, he pushed harder trying to pass his best friend. 

“Stay out of it.”  The two super soldiers ran on, lapping poor Sam a shameful amount of times. 

Used to be charming. Used to be? Bucky scoffed. He’d show them. He was present day charming. 

X

You really needed to work on your time management, you checked your watch and it was already 3 o clock and you hadn’t even had lunch yet. You were out of lab snacks too, so you decided to break for a quick lunch. 

You assumed you’d be in the kitchen on your own but entered to see Bucky with a cup of instant noodles. He was mid slurp when you waved hello. You went straight to the pantry to grab the basics for a PBJ. You could hear lots of coughing as you turned. 

“You’re not choking right? Do you need the heimlich?” You asked only half jokingly. You’d certainly do whatever you could to help him.

You turned back and Bucky was a bit red in the face but breathing normally again. 

“No. S’fine. Went down the wrong pipe.” He grumbled waving his hand as you went back to your sandwich.  

“Everyone loves the flowers. By the way, really made our week.” You took a seat across from him. Bucky straightened up a big and cleared his throat for the final time. 

“Glad to hear it.” He smiled. You smiled back. 

There was a beat of silence. You looked down at your food, then back to Bucky only to discover he had done the same. You were looking into each other's eyes. 

“It was really so thoughtful.” You hoped you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt. 

“Well I was thinking of you when I saw them.” He said softly. Your heart soared. That was the sort of softness that you only heard from him in a few special moments. 

“Tony is having a screening of The Princess Bride. For Valentine's Day. As a treat to the company. Great movie, if you haven’t seen it.” You said very quickly. Not sure what was compelling you to tell him about it. It was one of your favorite movies and you were really excited to go to the screening until another scientist in your lab had asked you if you were bringing a date. It hadn’t occurred to you that the romance movie screening on Valentine's Day was going to be a mostly couples event. 

“I haven’t.” Bucky said. You were about to suggest he check it out when he continued “We should go. Together.” 

“Ok! Yeah! Yes we should go! Wow, that will be so much fun!” You could hardly believe it! Had your gambit worked? Subtly bringing up the movie with the hopes he’d come with you? 

“Uh cool, should I uh pick you up at the lab?” He seemed just as excited as you. You don’t think you’d ever seen him so smiley actually. 

“Yeah, I’ll have to bring my duffle bag so I have a change of clothes. I have this dress that looks like Buttercup’s — she’s a character in the movie. I should have more clothes here anyway. I hate my work clothes. And maybe a blanket too since the screening room is always so cold. We could bring snacks even though they’re usually provided. That might be overdoing it. ” You had started to ramble while Bucky rested his chin on his hand, contently listening. 

“You’re not planning on sleeping in the lab again are you?” He asked, concerned. 

“Well, I want to watch the movie and it's a bit silly to drive all the way home when I'm tired.” You said with a shrug. You really should stop sleeping at the lab so much, it seemed like you were starting to get a reputation. 

“Very true, you should not be driving while sleepy. But uh we could go to my place afterwards. It’s a much nicer commute. Probably a bit more comfortable than the lab.” He offered. 

“But Bucky, where would you sleep?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. The avengers apartments were nice but you were certain he didn’t have a guest bedroom. 

“I’ll take the floor. It’s actually not an issue.” 

“Bucky Barnes, I am not kicking you out of your own bed. No way. End of discussion.” You put your foot down. He let out a sigh looking up at the ceiling lights and then back to you. His whole demeanor changed 

“Well. I was trying to be a gentleman here but it is a pretty big bed. We probably could both fit. Since it seems like there are no other options. ”  He practically purred at you. You blinked, taken aback. You couldn’t remember a time where he had seemed more charming to you! But no, that couldn’t be right. Bucky Barnes was not actually offering to cuddle up with you on Valentine’s Day. This was you misreading the situation with him as usual. 

“Oh. You mean that as friends right?” You asked. Bucky looked pained and sucked his teeth for a moment. 

“Totally. As friends.”

X

“So let me get this straight. You are going to be going to see the romance movie The Princess Bride together. On Valentines day. As friends. Then you are going back to his apartment. Where you’ve planned on sharing his bed. As friends.”Nat asked.  You sat across from Nat on the long L shaped couch in the TV room. You were a little surprised with how well you had ended up getting along with all the Avengers since you got hired for the lab. Nat and Bucky especially were famously unfriendly to newbies and yet, you seemed to click with them faster than anyone. 

“Exactly. What's so hard to get about that?” You gave a shrug and sipped some more of your afternoon coffee.  She let out a groan and massaged her temples. 

“Are you dumb? Like has this whole brilliant scientist thing been like an Elizabeth Holmes scam? Geez Einstein, Bucky is head over heels for you and you spend all of your time thinking about smooching his stupid grumpy little face!” She cried and you winced. You only thought about smooching sometimes.

“His face isn’t stupid.” You muttered and Natasha rolled her eyes so hard you feared they may get stuck. “And he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Why would he ask you out to a movie? Then offer his place afterwards, if not because he’s totally into you!” 

“I asked him if he meant as friends then he said yes he meant as friends.” You cried back. She let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Honestly at this point, I think I may have to hang up my wing woman hat. Can’t get you a date, can’t get Steve a date, I’ve lost my touch.”  She groaned. 

“Doesn’t Steve have someone he’s seeing?” You asked. 

“Uh absolutely not. No way he could keep that from me. Unless you have some intel I don’t know about.”

“He was asking me all these questions a few weeks ago. About getting a girl flowers to show you’re interested in her.” You explained. Why would he bring that up if not for the girl he’s dating? She nodded along knowingly. 

“Quick question, was Bucky also there by chance?” She asked, her wry smirk returning to her face. 

“Yeah he was…how did you know that?”

“And was this before or after Bucky showed up with flowers for ‘the lab’ ?” She asked using finger quotes around the lab. The gears in your head usually reserved for science and math started to turn. “Please, I’m begging you. Use that big powerful brain that’s supposedly between your ears.” 

You trusted Nat, she was much better at reading people than you were. Could she be right? You hoped she was right. 

X

You had changed into your flowy blue dress, you had always thought it looked a bit like Princess Buttercup's wedding dress with its long sleeves and high cinched waist. You took your hair out of its usual ponytail and let it tumble down your shoulders. This was a date. You told yourself. This was a date, Bucky was taking you out on a date. 

It didn’t seem real. How could it be? You had crushes all the time but they never actually liked you back, that just wasn’t how life worked out. But Natasha could read people like no one you’d ever known before. Could she be wrong?

Bucky showed up at the lab door, lightly knocking on the door frame as he let himself in. He was wearing a black dress shirt with black dress pants. The black on black was his usual MO but god did he look so handsome in it. He had stayed his hair a bit too, you could see the gel he had combed in to keep it neat. 

“Hey are you ready for the mo-” you cut him off by pressing your lips to his. The two of you stayed frozen for a minute neither sure what to do. 

He pulled you away looking confused. Oh fuck I just sexually harrassed an avenger oh god I’m fired, I’m dead, Bucky is never going to speak to me again!

“What are you doing?” He whispered, his hands on your shoulders keeping you at a distance. 

“I’m so sorry! God I knew Nat was wrong, I’m sorry I’m sorry, I just thought that maybe…god I’m so dumb.” You started to blubber, humiliated. You wanted to melt into the floor. 

“Hey, hey slow down. Now I’m really mixed up here, you said we should go as friends and now you’re kissing me. Can you just tell me what’s going on?” He asked, his voice very measured, his face unreadable. 

You took a deep breath. 

“I like you. I like you a lot. And I always thought that…there’s no way you liked me back. I wished the flowers you brought to the lab were for me but of course they weren’t and I hoped we were going to the movie as a date but of course we aren’t. Nat said she thought you liked me back but I should have never listened to her. I’m sorry.” You covered your face and turned away. You couldn't believe you’d messed this up so bad. 

“You keep apologizing but I’m not exactly complaining here.”  He said his voice low. 

“Huh?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to let you know, but every time I tried  it didn’t seem like you were interested in me!” He cried out. You just blinked at him, dumbfounded. 

“Why would you be into me, you're like the savior of the galaxy and I’m a nerd who practically lives in her lab.”

“Why would you be into me, you're a beautiful brilliant scientist  and I'm just some grumpy dope that’s also a  pardoned war criminal?”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him again. Bye god this was the second time you kissed Bucky today! Only this time when your lips met he eagerly returned the kiss. His soft lips moving feverishly against yours. His hands went to your hips and you tried not to let out a gasp as he pulled you flush against his body.  

“Wait, wait, are we going to miss the movie?” He asked you with such genuine sincerity you wanted to scream. How was he so cute?

“We can catch it another time.”

X

The two of you, barely able to keep yourself off each other, somehow managed to get in an elevator, go up all the way to Bucky's floor and get into his apartment. All while still remaining lip locked in a daze. 

He was kissing you silly, you almost felt drunk. With a bit of a flourish he tossed you on to the bed (which was quite big, easily room for the two of you like he had said). 

“Uh Bucky, what are these for?” You held up the leather cuffs that were chained across the back of the bed. He frowned, suddenly panicking. 

“I was going to move those, I’m sorry you had to see that. I just, I get nightmares sometimes and it um, it helps to chain myself to the bed so I don't um hurt myself. I’m on meds now and I never need to use them anymore.” He was rambling, quickly trying to sooth the situation. 

“Oh.”

“Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I know I’m a whole lot of baggage on top of baggage. I really am totally fine sleeping on the floor if that makes you feel safer or--”

“Don’t say that about yourself. You’re the smartest woman I know. ” He insisted. He sat back down on the bed. He took you in his arms. You pecked him lightly on his lips.

“I just…I thought maybe these were going to be for me.” You fluttered your eyelashes as

Bucky's eyes grew wide. He cleared his throat.

“They can be. They absolutely can be.”

[lavandulawrites]

In The Arms Of A Longing Man (rewritten)

Yandere Childe x reader

This was the first fanfic I have ever written. I was scrolling through my fics and I suddenly got the urge to rewrite it:))

Masterlist

Synopsis: Ajax can’t seem to let you go.

Word count: 1726

His dead eyes where something you wished you would never have to see again. Every day you prayed to whichever archon who might listen, the he would be gone. It was no surprise that the archons failed you as everything else in you life. Had you just realised that something was terribly wrong with him from the beginning, everything would have been different. If you hadn’t met him the day before your original departure, your life would be normal.

The ice cold Snezhnayan wind blew through the treetops, creating a whistling sound. You cussed at yourself for not wearing a ticker scarf, but you knew very well that Childe would be extremely mad disappointed if you didn’t wear the scarf he so kindly had gifted you. You could only hope that you wouldn’t get a frostbite.

“Hurry up soldiers!” the commander yelled. You and the other Fatui soldiers hurried as fast as you could in the heavy snow. Oh, how you longed for your warm little cottage that was safely hidden in the big forest by the little village you had grown so fond of.

You thought that joining the Fatui was a good idea. You had hoped then that you would be able to escape the poverty that had hunted you since you were born. You did in fact earn more than you ever had, but it didn’t take long before you soon regretted your horrible decision. You had realised then that you had been blinded by the hope of earning enough money to live a good life. You had been so blinded that you had not thought about all the cruel acts one had to commit in order to become a true Fatui soldier. You realised soon after arriving to Snezhnaya that you had been incredibly foolish and naive to believe you could avoid all the evil deeds. How could you be so utterly foolish? You were truly ashamed of your naive thinking.

You had to leave the Fatui as soon as possible. Today was the day you were going to tell your superior that you were going to take a boat back to Mondstadt the following day.

You were going back and forth in front of her superior’s office. You didn’t have any other choice. You held your breath and raised you hand to knock on the door.

“Hi! You’re [Name] right? You’re one of the new recruits if I remember correctly?” a voice behind you said gleefully. You jumped at the sound and quickly turned around to get a look on the person who the voice belonged to. It was Tartaglia, one of the Eleven Harbingers.

“Hello sir. Yes you’re indeed correct” you straightened your back and bowed deeply in respect.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be training with the other recruits?” the Harbinger grinned.

“Yes, I should, but I’m here regarding my position here in the Fatui. I’m going to quit” you looked down at the floor. The light blue tiles were wet, and a small puddle was forming underneath Childe’s boots. You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Maybe it was because he was a Harbinger and you felt the need to tell him? His grin was gone and replaced by and unreadable expression. Had you gone too far by telling him? Probably, judging by his expression or rather lack of.

“Oh… really. May I ask why?” his lips were pressed tighter in a tight line. You really shouldn’t tell him the reason, but you definitely shouldn’t lie to him.

You sighed “I am really not fit for being a member of the Fatui”.

He hummed. “I see…” he looked disappointed. He turned in his heel and walked away down the dark hallway. He waved over his shoulder. “By then, dear [Name]” his singsong voice echoed against the empty hallways.

You tumbled back against the door. You were relieved that he didn’t scold you or worse… Still, you got a bad feeling.

The office door opened. The sergeant looked you up and down with disapproval. “What brings you here. And why is your uniform wrinkled?” he motioned for you to enter. You must have knocked on the door when you leaned against it by accident.

“Sit” he said and sat himself on a fancy leather chair behind his newly polished desk. He was waiting for you to speak up.

“You see sir, I have thought about it for a while and I have concluded that I will resign from my position in the Fatui” you said as you neatly folded your hands in your lap. You tried to put on an air of confidence, but you knew he could see right through you.

“I am sure you have” his tone mocking. “Why? Do you not feel honoured by being a soldier? Are you really that ungrateful?” he pushed his small round glasses up his nose. His eyes narrow and filled with anger.

“No! Of course not! I’m very grateful that I got this position. It’s just that I feel… like it’s not for me. The Fatui have use for someone better than me” you tried desperately to explain.

He scoffed “Well… I guess I can’t deny you since you applied yourself. It’s a shame really. You’re dismissed.” He waved his hand at you.

“Thank you for understanding, sir” you bowed and hurried out of the room. You sighed in relief. I really did it!

The next day you had finished packing and was on your way to the pier. The docks in Snezhnaya were freezing, but you couldn’t care less. Finally you were going home. You were about to board the boat, when a few Fatui soldiers surrendered you.

“We have orders from the Eleventh Harbinger to arrest you” the tallest of them said.

Your eyes widened and fear crept over your entire being. What on earth was going on? You hadn’t done anything wrong. “Why?” you asked and you prayed that you didn’t sound scared, but judging from your voice you did.

“You have leaked secret information about the Fatui to other nations” a broad shouldered man said. He was shorter than the others, but his strength was clearly superior. He was eyeing you up and down and his lips twisted into a mocking grin.

“What?! I have done no such thing! I swear on my life!” you pleaded. Your pleas fell however on dead ears as they forcefully brought you to Zapolyarny Palace.

The footsteps of the soldiers echoed in the seemingly endless hallways. You were shivering. Was this it? Were you going to get executed for crimes you did not commit?

After walking through the dark and cold hallways for what felt like eternity, you stopped in front of two giant twin doors. The doors were the only thing that separated you from you seemingly inevitable doom. The doors opened with a loud groan and the soldiers pushed you in. You stumbled, but quickly caught your balance. The inside was dimly lit, and the walls were decorated to an almost exaggerated state.

The Harbingers were standing in an half circle with the leader of the Fatui in the middle. Their eyes followed your every move and you had never felt so utterly helpless. As you kneeled in front off them, your legs almost gave out. The soldiers behind you followed your example and kneeled.

Pierro cleared his throat. “I am certain you understand why you are here” his gruff voice rung loudly in the spacious hall. You could only nod.

“I am highly disappointed. Such behaviour should be punished with death.” You raised your head and were about to claim your innocence, but stopped when you saw that The Jester was not done talking.

“Thanks to Tartaglia you are spared. Be wise and thank him properly.” Your eyes widened. “You will now be serving directly under him.”

Childe was grinning. You bowed your head. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. To that I am extremely grateful” your voice was quiet. You weren’t grateful at all. Now it would be impossible to leave the Fatui. Serving directly under a Harbinger was worse than death.

“I look forward working with you, comrade” his blue eyes full of indescribable hunger. You swallowed thickly.

“You are dismissed” Pierro’s voice stern. You rose to your feet and bowed deeply before exiting.

 

 

 

The icy wind didn’t get any better as you decided the mountain. The mission had gone smoothly. The snow creaked under your heavy boots. Fear was creeping up your back. You were almost home. You tried to calm your nerves. Maybe he wasn’t in his office? Perhaps his mission was delayed? You could only hope so.

The office door creaked open. You stepped inside with your back straightened. You were not going to show him any fear. The red haired man was staring out the window. He turned around and grinned upon seeing you. “Well if it isn’t [Name]” his voice was soft like velvet. His dead eyes boring into yours. Trying to peer into your soul.

“Hello Tartaglia” you bowed.

He raised an eyebrow playfully “What have I said about treating me so formally when it’s just us?”

“Right…”your voice flat as you eyed the Harbinger.

He walked towards you with a wolfish grin. He stroked your cheek gently. “Oh, how I have missed you…” he sighed. You didn’t answer. He curled his his arms around your and held you tightly. You didn’t dare to hug him back. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear “You can’t escape me now. Do you seriously think that the commander doesn’t tell me everything?”

Chills ran down your spine. He laughed coldly. “He told me that you were planning on leaving the group and and flee across the border. How utterly foolish you are” he sighed and looked you straight in the eye. His expression filled with madness.

He gripped your your chin firmly. “Do you know how hurt I was when I heard that? I can’t possibly let you go now. No you are way to naive for this cruel world” his features twisted in faux sadness. “Oh, how I have longed for you since the first time I saw you” his voice soft and his gaze tender. His lips pulled back into a terrifying smile. “I will never let you go.”

[webslingingslasher]

taylor swift song request lesgooo!!! end game from reputation where y/n has a really big reputation as a 'bad girl' and peter (good boy loml) ends up tutoring her, and sees she isn't all bad...

first off, i am so sorry this took so long, you may not even be on my page anymore, but this struck something in me & i couldn't stop.

second, i switched up the request a little because if you listen to the song, (in a non snooty way lmao) taylor is the one expressing she wants to be with this person but she has a bad repuation and everyone's heard about it, and it's a lot to commit to because of the talk surrounding her.

---------

Everyone had it wrong. 

You were good. And kind. And smart. And talented. And confused. And lost. And just like every other kid in the school. You were good. You stayed to yourself. You didn’t gossip. You didn’t judge. You didn’t tattle. You were good. 

So why did everyone hate you so much? 

It was your brother’s fault. His reputation preceded yours and it ruined everything for you. 

He was the one that picked fights. 

He was the one that pushed teachers to the limits. 

He’s the one that sold dope from his locker. 

He’s the one that hooked up with a girl in the teacher's lounge. 

And the third floor bathroom. 

And the girls locker room.

And underneath the bleachers.

He’s the one that made everyone think you were just alike. 

It ruined everything about high school so far. 

Jokes, rumors, lost friendships, people refusing to date you. 

It was childish and unfair. You wanted one person on your side, the one person you watched in class, the one person that was nice to you in a school of jekyll’s. And you couldn’t have him. 

“Hey, still coming later?” 

Peter Parker had a smile that could make the devil buckle. He was sugar, spice and everything nice. Long time crush, but the part where you’ve been smeared into a good for nothing whore, made nothing possible. 

“You sure you still wanna do this? I don’t mind asking Mrs. Stu-” 

Peter called your name like you were telling a joke, “it’s my honor to tutor you! Don’t blow me off.” 

You want to protect him. You like him too much. He hangs around you long enough and accusations with his name start flying around with yours. 

“If you’re so desperate,” grinning brightly, “I’ll see you later.” 

Peter was so kind to tutor you. Your teacher asked on your behalf, she said she thought you’d be a good pair and you couldn’t deny the extra help, too bad Peter had to be the one on the chopping block. He was being a good samaritan and you knew what it would cause for him, even with the alone time you’ve been craving, you’d keep him pushed away at all costs. 

You didn’t want the fallout to burn him, you’re used to the sting and he’s someone that shouldn’t feel anything but a loving touch. 

Even if it would kill you, you’d have to pretend to be disinterested in Peter Parker and watch him walk away. 

Oh, the things you do for love.

—------------

You’ve never felt so paranoid in your life. You swore everyone was looking at you, or maybe they were looking at Peter. Telling themselves it seemed fit that a nerd would be trying his shot with the school whore, because it’s not like you’d say no. 

“Hi, can I sit?” Peter pointed at the patch of grass next to you, your eyes squinted as you looked up at him, it was hard reading his expression. You were the shade but he was standing under the sun, everything was washed out and too bright. 

“Um, here?” you pointed at the same spot, taking a chance to look around, you felt eyes all over you. “Yeah, I mean, unless you want me here?” He pointed at a patch on the other side of you, “or here,” gesturing next to your feet, “you know what? You choose, I’m the guest.” 

He’s so nice. Gentle, even. You hadn’t experienced someone so kind, so golden hearted, in a minute. His kindness shouldn’t be his weakness or his downfall. With one last scope of the scene you assume he could stay for a moment, at least you could figure out where to meet later. 

You give Peter a smile and pat the first spot he pointed out, “you can sit,” answering his original question. His backpack hit the ground first, jimming himself closer to the tree behind you to rest his back on. Peter’s fingers picked pieces of grass, you assume in boredom. 

“So,” you both speak at the same time, a soft exhaling laugh at the symmetry. You wave Peter along, the sooner he gets it out the sooner he can leave, the quicker he is with you the less he’ll be attacked. 

“Wanna meet at the library?” 

And have everyone see? Have his reputation smeared like your own? There’s a reason you don’t have many people around you, you can’t believe he doesn’t see it.

“No,” he’s taken a bit back by your blunt tone. Peter hums low, “your place?” 

You scoff, “absolutely not.” 

There’s no other option then, “alright, my place it is. Wanna come with me after school? We could take the bus, unless you prefer the subway.” 

God, there’s nothing in the world you want more. It was too dangerous, if you got close enough it’d be too hard to rip it away. If you were seen leaving school with him, going to his house with him, it’d be over for him. You would give him the mark of cain. 

It hurts more than you’d like to admit, you take your turn at plucking small weeds, avoiding his face. He’s hard to say no to. 

“I can’t. But, I’ll come over tonight.” 

You hate how happy he sounded when he answered, it was so unfair. You were a good kid, your brother was the bad one, but you dealt with all the repercussions. Your heart felt so weighed down, you wanted nothing more to reach out and hold Peter’s hand. 

You wanted a boyfriend. 

You wanted a friend. 

You wanted love. 

You wanted to feel accepted and heard and validated and supported by one person. 

But you couldn’t have him. 

“Cool. Wanna give me your number?” It’d be better than talking in person, easier to keep him away from you unless absolutely necessary. You nod, finally looking at him when you hand over your phone, he’s got a giant smile and you have to look back down at a patch of weeds with a single dandelion poking from it. 

“Yours?” 

Peter’s fingers brush yours when he hands his over, a warm jolt spreads down your wrist and into your elbow. It makes you feel alive, it’s a welcomed feeling. You try to forget it immediately. 

His screen is cracked and scratchy as you type your number in, feeling him watch over your face you scan the crowd of people. You swear you see someone pointing, you shove his phone back in his hand, scrambling to stand. 

“I’ll text you when I’m on my way, I have to go.” 

He’s not allowed to care this much. It’s unfair. 

“You don’t want to have lunch with me? I have half a sandwich if you want it, I know we only have like, ten minutes left but if you want it, it’s yours.” 

‘If you want it, it’s yours.’

Does he mean it? Is there a limit to what could be yours? 

Too bad you’ll never know. 

“Thank you, but I can’t.” He almost looks disappointed, you have to stop making things up. 

“You sure? I don’t mind sharing with you.” 

You do. He can’t suffer the same consequences you do, it’s too isolating. Lonely. You were lonely. He doesn’t deserve it. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, Peter.” 

Peter takes his time unwrapping his homemade sandwich from cellophane, he takes a bite from half and moans, outstretching his hand with the other half, still wrapped up. “Here, take it to go. My aunt made it, if you try hard enough you can taste the love.” 

He’s god damn irresistible. 

You take his gift, slowly backing away, “thanks, I’ll search for it.” 

Peter’s smile hurts your eyes, “good, it isn’t hard to find.” He’s adorable, even when he’s wrong. 

It must be his superpower. 

—-------------------

Peter’s aunt was two things. 

A lot, and very kind. 

You can see where Peter gets his aggressive pleasantry from, the moment she opened the door she was eager to please you. May wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, her voice cheery in your ear.

“Oh my goodness, it is so nice to put a face to the name.” 

Politely patting her back you swallow thickly, she’s heard all about you and your make believe history. She’s kind but you know in the back of her mind she’s hoping you’d leave her nephew alone, get what you need from him and leave. 

“Nice meeting you too, you make a killer sandwich, by the way.” 

She gasps, pushing you away by your shoulders, moving her head to catch her eyes. An unfamiliar smile crosses her face, you don’t know what it means but it feels as welcoming and radiant as Peter’s. 

“Oh, good! He shared.” 

May said it like it was planned, like she could tell you were confused she broke your attention away. “I made cookies, because everyone knows you need sugar to help you focus.” A wink, she was so gentle, it’s something about those Parker’s. 

You play along, it’s nice to be welcomed for once. Even if it’s until you’re gone, the moment she tells Peter she knows all about you and to keep his distance. 

“I think I read a story on that once, nine out of ten dentists agree, right?” 

And just for a moment you let yourself dream, floating on your imaginary high of Peter Parker when his aunt laughs at your joke, her smile slowly dimming while she looks at your face, deep in thought. A confident head nod. 

“Peter was right about you.” 

You should take it negatively, but you don’t. There’s something about her that tells you she only means well. It must mean she hasn’t heard the bad things, but once she does, she’d be eating her words. 

But damn, if you aren’t curious about what Peter said. Was he nice, did he hint at a crush, did he make his aunt believe you were someone you’re not? 

“Peter was right about what?” 

The devil himself appeared from nowhere, his body standing next to yours, so closely you can feel hints of his cotton zip up hoodie brushing your arms. You closed your eyes to breathe slowly, the sight of him with his hands flat on the kitchen counter, leaning his weight into the laminate, his hoodie strings dangling in a tempting way. 

In a way you want to pull him closer by them, curling the fabric around your fingers and tugging him until his mouth is on yours. 

You’re easy to read, you can see it on May’s face the second you open your eyes. You know in an instant she knows that you like her nephew. Even more surprisingly, she looks excited with the knowledge. 

Her eyes flicker back to her nephew, “how lovely you said our guest was, what else did you say?” 

You can see Peter freeze, “May,” it’s a warning tone. His aunt bulldozes, “wasn’t it something about how pr-” You don’t know what she says, Peter speaks over her. “May!” Jumping in your spot, caught off guard by his sudden tone and volume change, Peter moves a hand to your arm, “sorry,” it was delicate, it was him saying he was only sorry towards you, sorry for catching you off guard. 

Fighting past his numbing touch, you smile, “it’s okay, I didn’t know you could be so stern.” 

You need to see a therapist, because you swear you shared a moment. “Only when it’s something I’m passionate about.” 

He’s talking about you, he has to be. You want him to be. 

You have no idea how you’ll keep yourself from tying to him. But you’ll give it a fighting chance. 

“You know what I’m passionate about?” Peter shakes his head, it’s hard to look away from his eyes, you never knew brown eyes could be so pretty. But you do, attention directed to fresh made chocolate chip cookies. 

“Cookies.” 

Peter won’t let you off that easy, “what kind?” 

You bounce different flavors over in your head, “you’re opening pandora's box, parker. I mean, are we talking grocery store, homemade, or bakery?” 

His arms crossed over his chest, “well, now I need to know every answer.” 

You blow out a breath like you’re about to compete in the olympics, “alright, off the shelf grocery, you can’t go wrong with double stuffed oreos. But, personally, those keebler elves, with the fudge? I love em, my mom stopped buying them cause I’d eat half the pack in one sitting, so now my dad sneaks them to me. But, I mean, you can’t go wrong with those little bakery sugar cookies, you know, the ones that stick to the roof of your mouth?” 

Peter bites back a grin, you weren’t lying, you really were passionate. 

“I know what ones you’re talking about, they’re gross.” It’s the most offensive thing he could say to you. “You’re wrong, but okay.” He laughs, “opinions can’t be wrong,” you pull your head back, “they absolutely can, yours is proof.” 

You look for support from his aunt but she’s long gone, you didn’t even see her back away. 

Peter rolls his hand, amping you on, “homemade?” 

You spit the answer quickly, “butterscotch oatmeal.” He’s never heard of them, or tasted them, but if you love them, he thinks he would too. “You’ll have to bring me some to try, they sound tempting.” Agreeing with him, “you’d never go back.” 

“Bakery?” 

“That’s the tricky one, it’s a rare find, not every place has them. But it’s my all time favorite flavor of anything ever made, s’mores.” 

Peter loves it, your favorite treat was s’mores and it fit you. 

His personal mission was tracking one down and bringing it to you. 

“S’mores? Really?” 

You nod, “really, really. If you find one you’ll have to try it, unless you have another wrong opinion and don’t like s’mores.” 

“Nah, I love s’mores.” 

Peter Parker was too good of a person to bring down. You need to shut down your admiration, because his alienation would hurt the most. 

—---------------------

This wasn’t good. No, this was bad. This was really bad. 

Peter Parker just called open season on himself and it was all your fault. 

You should’ve refused for him to be your tutor, that was the mistake. The moment it was agreed upon it was over. You should’ve never gone over to his house, if you hadn't then you would’ve never told him about your favorite cookie, and he wouldn’t have gotten you one. 

It happened in third period, he approached your seat and set a small white box in front of you. Your eyes flickered from the box to him several times before you asked, “what’s this?” A gift, you knew that much, he’s given you a gift and Jeffery Stewart was watching it go down. Peter would have an hour until he was tied to you. 

“Open it,” slowly opening the cardboard your heart skips three beats, once for each cookie. You’ve never felt so seen, dare you even say loved? He listened, that’s what it was. He listened to you and he tracked them down and presented them to you, he was proud. 

Peter Parker has made everything about your current life harder. 

“Oh my god, where did you find these?” 

He shakes his head, like it doesn’t matter where he sourced them, what matters is that he did. 

“You were right, they’re hard to track down, it took me three days. Surprisingly, they’re mostly seasonal.” 

You tsk, contemplating tearing one in half right now. “It’s so wrong, isn’t it? I mean, you can buy s’mores stuff all year long, so it doesn’t make sense.” Fuck it, it’s selfish, but he went above and beyond. 

Splitting a cookie, you hand half over, cheersing yours with his. You throw your head back and hum the second you bite down, they’re the best ones you’ve ever had. You weren’t sure if it was because they were that good, or because it felt like they were purchased with care. 

“Holy shit, Peter. These are unearthly.”

He’s in the same boat, he can understand why they’re your favorite now. 

Nodding excessively, “my world has changed for the better.” 

“Yeah, mine too.” It was a slip, you didn’t mean to say it. It came out without thinking, you said it sincerely, and he knows it. Peter finished the rest of his cookie and licked his thumb, “good, I’m glad to hear it.” 

This was bad. This was very bad. 

Because Peter Parker lays his hand on your desk and leans in, really closely, it makes you stop functioning all together. He needs to leave, he needs to back away, he needs to leave you alone. He doesn’t know what he's doing to himself, but you’re too selfish to stop it. 

Even with Jeffery Stewart staring you down like a dog in heat, a wicked grin spreads while he ropes over the many rumors he’s about to flood the halls with. 

“Wanna come over tonight?” 

Lost in a world of a million thoughts, all of them being about the distance from his lips to yours. Blinking back to attention you groan, “I don’t really feel like studying tonight, my brain is mush.” 

Peter nods, then moves in, just an inch closer, you feel like you’re about to die. 

“Not what I asked.” 

“I don’t-” 

“I asked if you wanted to come over, not if you wanted to study.” 

The room is spinning, everything is a blur. He’s flirting, Peter Parker is flirting with you in front of an audience. He’s fearless, it’s impressive. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your reputation, the things people say about you, the things you do. 

Suddenly, a chill creeps up your spine. What if he knows exactly what people say, what if that’s why he’s being sweet, what if that’s why he’s acting like he cares? Fuck it, you’ll call him out on his bullshit, but privately, you don’t need any extra attention. 

“Sure. Same time?” 

“Same time,” it’s set in stone when the bell rings, Peter knocks his knuckles on your desk before he walks away. It’s unfair how much you hate to see him pull away from you.

—------------------

The upside to being cynical is that when things don’t work out, like you plan, you’re not that hurt, because you called it the whole time. 

Just like Peter, you knew the second it circled back to him he’d be gone. It proved to be true when you heard mumbles by your locker, eyes flicking to you and back, quicker whispers shared. 

From what you’ve gathered, either Peter has seen your nipple piercings or he’s given you nipple piercings. Not that you had them, but that didn’t matter. What now mattered was that Peter was directly tied to you and your boobs were involved, that’s enough alone for him to get a clap on the back while you’re being shamed for even acknowledging your body autonomy. 

What a lame rumor, Jeffery Stewart could’ve gone to the moon with theories but this was the one he settled on? Usually he was a bit more creative, his last one ended up with you and the guidance counselor in the principal's office informing you that it was a safe space, and that if the school’s janitor came onto you it wasn’t your fault. 

It took three weeks for people to totally forget it, but those few weeks you’d hear claps and wolf whistles when you passed by the janitor's closet made you feel like you were on the constant verge of vomiting. 

Usually it wouldn’t bother you, but once they involved Peter’s name you felt sick. Everything you feared itching to life, and right when you heard a third possibility you couldn’t stay silent, slamming your locker door shut and giving wild eyes to the girl talking to her friend on your right. 

“Which one is it, Lindsey? Was he holding my hand while I got them done, did he see them, or did he do them? I don’t know about you, but if I heard three totally different versions of a story I’d question the authenticity of the claim.” 

It didn’t matter who was watching, you couldn’t hold it in.

You felt like you were on fire, you could see her sputter, like she didn’t expect you to call her out. You felt like the walls were closing in on you, she didn’t start the rumor but she was helping it spread and she was the closest person you could explode on. 

“C’mon, Lindsey. Which one? I want to hear your side, unless you think it went down a totally different way. What? Scared to talk?” 

Your throat’s closing, you can’t stop, you step closer, you shout at her. 

“Which one, Lindsey!” The hall was dead silent, for the first time you had no cares about who was looking. 

Her shoes squeak as she backs up, her eyes wide and blinking, a flash of terror, it makes you want to squeeze her and shake her, try to get her to understand this was what it felt like to be you.

“Fucking answer me!” Your voice cracked, she whimpered, fat tears falling. 

“None! I don’t believe any of them!” 

She doesn’t. You can see it written all over her face, she was just talking to talk, knowing you could hear every word she produced. It just made you feel sad. 

“You can hunt other women as much as you want, Lindsey. But the collusion doesn’t save you from the same hunt.” 

Lindsey nods, like she understands. But you know she doesn’t, you know she’ll keep being the same, until they turn on her, and then she’ll wonder why no one stands up for her and how anyone could believe the jargon they say about her. And on that day, you’d be nodding with the crowd. 

—-------------

If Peter told his aunt about today she had an excellent poker face. Because she was more than happy seeing you when she opened the door, hugging you close before she could even shut it.

“Hi, sweetheart! How are you doing?” Politely hugging back, you talk back in her ear. “Hi, Ms. Parker, I’m good, how are you?” A squeeze before you’re released, her hands warm on your shoulders. 

“Oh, please, just call me May. Did Peter give you the cookies?” 

You nod while biting back a grin, she might have a clue for how you feel about her nephew but you’re not announcing it either. “Good,” she’s got something in her that makes you feel like she’s more of a wingwoman than aunt. 

“Peter’s in his room, I won’t be back until late, are you sleeping over?” 

You feel off balance for a second. May’s leaving you and Peter alone, for several hours, and then suggests you’ll be spending the night. She really is a wingwoman. It makes you second guess everything Peter might have told her, it’s clear she can see your mental gymnastics when she pats your arm. 

“He said you guys are gonna hang out, maybe watch some movies. I just meant, will I be surprised if I come home to you two cuddled up somewhere.” 

Is she saying not to fuck in the common areas?

“Are you saying-” 

“Keep it in his room.” 

Mortified. She must assume the worst out of you, you’ve only met her twice and her thought was that the second you were alone you’d be fuck bunnies. To be fair, Peter is really attractive. She can tell how embarrassed she’d made you and she’s quick to jump over it. 

“No accusations and no shaming. I’d just rather be clear to both of you. Peter had a worse conversation, be glad.” 

You take that as her permission, and that she likes you. She has to, she just implied she’d be cool if you and Peter hooked up. Even if the world hated you, having her approval made you feel like you had someone to impress again. 

“Okay, I understand and accept the rules and boundaries of your home.” 

May laughs, hooking her purse over her shoulder she pats your arm again. “You’re a good kid, don’t forget that.” 

And that made you want to curl up and cry, you haven’t had unprompted support like that in years. It worked, because you’d never, not once, cross any boundary of her’s. In fact, after that? You’d die protecting hers. 

“Thanks, May. See you later.” 

A wink, “See you later, honey.” 

You took a second to breathe, and look over yourself in the mirror before approaching Peter’s door. Knocking for a second and opening it when he answered, he spun one eighty in his desk chair, a blur of blue plaid until he settled. 

Before he had a chance to speak you did, “did your aunt give us permission to have sex, or am I tripping?” 

Peter’s grin dimmed, he looked to his closet doors while his cheeks tinged pink. “I promise you, whatever she said to you, is nowhere near as bad as my talk.” 

“She mentioned that, was it all about the ins and outs of pleasuring a woman?” 

Peter’s avoiding eye contact, you came here to tell him he should keep his space but watching him shrink under your questions made you feel powerful. Each blush he gives makes you want to dig in further. 

He more or less shrugs, it’s a damn bold line, you don’t even know what you're saying until it comes out in full. 

“Tell me, Parker, could you please me?” 

Seconds tick, you can hear it on his clock, finally he looks at your face. Any trace of a blush fallen, it makes you feel choked. 

“I’m not sure, but I’d love to find out.” 

Panic. He’s not supposed to say that, he’s supposed to back down. You’re supposed to back him down.

Peter can’t go down this road and it’s your job to block his path, but you can’t stop yourself from moving out of his way. 

“I mean, since you already know about the nipple piercings…” you trail your words, expecting a sneer. Instead he laughs, a full on body laugh, it makes you smile, just the pure happiness radiating from him. 

For once a rumor is just something you can laugh about. 

“Psh, of course I knew about them. I mean, isn’t that the third time you’ve had them?” 

It was. You didn’t realize it but that was the third time the rumor was reused. You didn’t notice but he did, did he notice all the other ones too? All the ones that stated how bad you were? Did it even matter if he believed them, you didn’t think so, at least not at this point, you just didn’t want him to suffer the same fate. 

Peter pats the top of his bed, “take a seat,” your stomach lurches, the thought of being in his bed enough to ignite you in flames. His aunt said keep it in his room and he’s luring you right in, your palms feel like they’re sweating. If he heard all the rumors about you sleeping around and thought you were like that, he was about to be disappointed. 

Holding your eyes shut and squeezing fists you rush the words out, the quicker said the quicker this would be over. 

“I’m a virgin!” 

Instead, he looked utterly confused, looking around his room like he was trying to figure out where the explosion came from. Settling on a low release of words, his eyebrows furrowed in, “so am I?” 

Just to be clear, “I’m not looking to change that tonight, so if that’s why you wanted-” 

“No!” Peter almost slips on the floor he stands so quick, “that’s not at all why I wanted, I just thought…” He doesn’t know how to say it, he almost said he thought you needed a friend, but that could be offensive, or worse, he’d be friendzoning himself for you. 

“Thought what, I’d be an easy piece? Cause I know you’ve hea-” 

“I asked Mrs. Sturgis if I could tutor you!” 

You stop talking, his words looping in your brain. That doesn’t make sense, because if he did ask then that means he wanted to tutor you, that means there was a deeper meaning, that means when his aunt said he talked about you it went further than what was said at school. 

“Please,” he pleaded your name, “come sit? Just for a second.” 

You follow his command and sit on the edge of his bed, watching Peter pace as he combs his hands through his hair. He’s nervous. 

“I don’t know how to talk to you, my brain is just… you make me really nervous.” 

“Why did you ask to tutor me?” 

Peter stops moving to look at you, it was easier to answer when you asked. 

“So I could talk to you.” 

It’s a start, “why?” 

“I just wanted you to trust me. I hear what everyone says, and I don’t believe a word of it, but I didn’t want you to think I was asking for the wrong reasons, or making a joke out of you.” 

Your face scrunches, “you thought, I’d think, that you asking to tutor me, directly, would be a joke?” 

Peter shakes his head, sitting back in his chair and taking a second to answer you. 

“No, I think if I asked you out on a date you’d think it was a joke.” 

You laugh, “well, yeah… It’s not like you…” 

Except he does, and you can see it all over his face. He really, really does. With the new knowledge you don’t know how to act, suddenly aware Peter Parker sees you in a different light. He doesn’t see you as his student, he sees you as a potential mate. 

You only know fight or flight, and your flight option was crawling further up his bed, backing away until your back hit the wall, a dull thump produced. You give a barely audible, “ow,” your brain racing with thoughts, trying to catch up with his admittance. 

“You okay?” 

You’re thankful he can’t see you, the top bunk perfectly cutting your head from his viewpoint. 

“Peachy,” you can barely speak. 

“Cool, cause it seemed like you kinda freaked when I implied I wanted to ask you out.” 

You nibble on your thumbnail, “implied or asking?” 

“I’d rather ask when I can see you.” 

How is he so calm, he was the one that was just pacing the floor talking about how nervous he was. Now he’s a smooth talker.

“Is that why you asked to tutor me? So you could ask me out?” 

“Maybe, but you also need a tutor.” 

Rude. Fair, but rude. 

“So, you like me?” 

You wish you could see the smile he has, you know he has one, you can hear it in his laugh. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

You shrug, but he can’t see. “I don’t know, you’re not nervous anymore.” 

“I don’t have to be, the girl I like likes me too.” 

You gasp, you’ve said no such thing! There was absolutely nothing to base his accusation off of. You mock his words. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

Another laugh, you wish you could see that laugh. But once you emerge it’s over, it means he’s signed his life away to be with you. An act of selflessness you didn’t know was possible. 

“Look at yourself, you’re hiding cause you’re petrified to be asked out.” 

“No, I’m not. I’m protecting you, cause if you don’t ask, you won’t be ridiculed.” 

You imagine he looks offended, because he sounds it. 

“Do you think I give a shit what anyone thinks?”

“It’s isolating, Peter. I’d feel like I’d bring you down, and you don’t deserve that.” You take a breath, “you’re very kind, and I really like that.” 

“You’re kind too, and smart, and really, very, pretty. And I think once you have a boyfriend and a friend group, things won’t be so bad and everyone will forget why they teased you.” 

You hum, playing with your nails and chewing at your bottom lip, silence took over. It was a rush of a lot of emotions, you’re shocked and excited. You’re also panicked and jittery. It was everything you feared and wished for at once. 

Peter Parker is asking to be in your life, no matter the cost. 

That’s the bravest thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

Clearing your throat, “who would be my boyfriend?” 

Peter pretended to think about it, “you could have whoever you want.” 

“Anything you want, it’s yours.” An immediate flashback to the first day he sat with you, you mumbled out the words and scooted, just an inch, from the wall. 

“What was that?” 

You announce it, moving forward another inch, “anything you want, it’s yours. You said that at lunch the first day you sat with me, do you still mean it?” 

There’s just something you’ve been dying to do, something you’ve been wanting to do. And he said whatever you wanted. 

“Whatever you want, I mean it.” He sounds sincere too, you move forward a few inches. 

“Have you kissed anyone before?” 

Peter doesn’t understand the correlation but he’ll entertain it. “Yes?” 

You offer up more information, hoping he’d catch the hint. “I haven’t.” 

He doesn’t. “That’s no biggie, I think over half the school-” 

You speak over him, “but, I want to.” 

It takes Peter a second to register it, and when he does he almost collapses. 

“Oh. I see. Um, want me to come in there, or you come out here?” 

Your heart races, he’s so willing to do whatever with no qualms, you just asked and he’s delivering. You were about to have your first kiss with your number one crush, and he liked you too. 

“Wait, you’re gonna do it?” You’ve never been so excited. Or anxious. Were these the butterflies people talk about? 

“I’m sorry, did I read that wrong?” 

“No, you’re just… right now?” You think you’ll puke all over him, that’s why you’re stalling. 

You can see Peter drum his fingers over his pants, “do you wanna hold off for a second? I’ll do it whenever you want.” 

Your heart clenches, “Peter,” you groan out his name, “stop being so nice, it hurts.” Waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m gonna suck, and you won’t like me anymore.” 

God, you wish you could see the cocky grin smear, you can hear it, but you want to face him more than anything. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. He knows you can’t stay hidden forever. 

“Wanna bet?” 

Why not? If you really think about the last year and change of high school, what else would you really have to lose? 

Plus, he was really cute. 

Overwhelmed with the knowledge of knowing you were about to have your first kiss, you slowly shimmied to the edge of the bed, right where you were before you hightailed it backwards. 

Peter looks even better than you’ve pictured, his hair fluffy from where he ran his hands through it. A greeting smile rested on him, and his bright brown eyes warmed. “Well, hello there, I was afraid you got lost.” 

Sucking the life force from your bravery, “I was told there would be kisses out here.” 

A surprised look crossed Peter before he fell back into neutral, pushing off his desk to glide over in front of you, his knees knocking yours, suddenly you feel panicky again. “There absolutely can be.” 

Peter catches your nerves and figures it’d be easier to actually get it over with, because the second he would pull away all panic would hit near bottom ground. Using what little skill he has, he rests his right hand on your thigh while his left cups your face. 

You suck in a breath, following his guide when he brings your face up to his. Peter swipes his thumb across your cheekbone and you feel everything in you be set ablaze with desire. 

You wonder if he can feel how warm your cheek is under his touch, if he does, he doesn’t comment. When you give him no disagreement he leans in, he can hear your breath hitch, it brings him a little pleasure to be the ‘cool’ one in the situation. 

When he’s closer than you would’ve ever imagined he gives you a grin, “hi.” It was a hushed whisper, you give him one back, “hi.” Your eyes flash from his gaze to his mouth, you were caught, it makes you look down at your hands. 

Your mind spirals, why hasn’t he kissed you yet, and also, what do you do with your hands? Giving it a shot you press them against Peter’s chest, but it feels like you’re pushing him off, so you move to his shoulders but it doesn’t feel quite right. 

“Want some help?” Peter caught on to your struggle, of course he did, he just notices the little things with you. He doesn’t even pull away, just bringing his hand that was on your thigh to bring your left hand around his neck. Your right hand outstretched to rest on his ribcage, when you look back he seems much closer, this time he’s looking at your mouth. 

“Do-” 

Peter cuts you off, a hushed whisper, “I’m gonna kiss you now,” you breathe in sharply, “oh, okay.” Peter can’t fight the smile, “is it?”

You don’t get a chance to answer, his mouth is on yours, and it’s heaven. You feel like you’re floating, his lips velvety smooth, the only way you know how to show your shock and appreciation is by gripping his shirt. Peter’s bottom lip favored your top lip, moving into his kisses awkwardly. He was much more experienced, but he didn’t make you feel overwhelmed, it felt like he was guiding you. 

You didn’t feel like you were doing much, but it felt like everything you imagined. It made you dream of a day where you could do this with him whenever you wanted. It felt like he was pulling away, you refused to part and followed him, holding tight to his flannel. It failed when he was able to push you away with ease. 

Peter sounded slightly winded, you were blinking with stars in your eyes, your heartbeat in your throat, and just a little shy to look at him. “Funny thing about kissing, you gotta breathe to keep doing it.” 

You're new to it, gulps of fresh air weren’t as refreshing as him. You wanted to kiss him again, but you didn’t want to put him out, and you still weren’t sure how to initiate or ask for it. 

Peter tapped on your knee, “wanna take me out for another test drive or are you happy with your purchase?” 

He wanted to do it again. 

That’s a good thing. 

“If I buy it, does that mean the test drives stop?” 

“Of course not. That just means you don’t need to ask to drive it.” 

You lean in this time, “but I have to ask now?” 

Peter speaks against your lips, “it would be the customary thing to do.” 

“Well then,” you speak softly and look at him, “would you kiss me again?” 

Your eyes close when he brushes against your mouth, a kiss is pressed to the corner of your cheek, “depends, are you planning on purchasing?” 

Boldly, you give him a chaste kiss, “everyone at school is gonna hate my new car.” 

Peter kisses your cheek, “best in show, baby. Best in show.” 

You take a deep breath, it wasn’t a bad thing to need someone. And it wouldn’t be bad to let yourself have them. 

Peter Parker heard everything everyone said but he wasn’t even listening, it felt dizzying, for the first time someone saw the real you, the good you and wanted you. He wanted nothing and everything at the same time. You liked him, maybe a bit too much, and the risk of losing him was enough to send you flying. But the chance of love, and hope and trust was even bigger. 

Someone wasn’t scared to have a big reputation with you. Peter Parker was proud to have the same big enemies as you. 

And for that reason, 

“Sold.” 

[husbandograveyard]

this is part of my drabble collection: The answer is love - Masterlist

Characters: Megumi x GN reader Prompt: "is that my shirt you're wearing?" [a/n]: I am such a sucker for stealing clothes prompts, and 90% of the fits the characters in JJK wear look so comfy with their oversized shirts and baggy pants. 10/10 would steal.

“is… that my shirt you’re wearing?” Megumi looked at you with a confused look in his eyes, but not as confused or shocked as the way Yuuji and Nobara were looking at you, eyes wide, mouths agape. Not for long though as their confusion made way for knowing smirks in no time, followed by your teacher, who was laughing loudly. “Way to finally admit you’re dating!” 

You averted your gaze from Gojo-sensei, feeling a little embarrassed as you shrugged at Megumi. You were in fact wearing his black oversized T-shirt that you had sneakily taken from his room after the movie night you had yesterday. It was comfortable, it was soft and it smelled like him. You were feeling so good in it, and you hadn’t thought twice about wearing it to class today, figuring that a black oversized T-shirt wasn’t a dead giveaway as to who it belonged. 

Until the owner of course spoke up, not only betraying the origins of the garment but also admitting that you had access to it, even though you had both excused yourself from doing something with the group yesterday. You had been trying to keep you dating hidden for a bit, not wanting the others to tease or judge, but now that your teacher had said it out loud, the figurative sparkles around his face adding flair to his words, you had no choice but to admit your flustered demeanor was because he was right. 

“Yeah… I thought you wouldn’t miss it.” 

Megumi was quiet for a second, thinking it over, realizing that he really shouldn’t have spoken up if he had wanted to keep your relationship quiet. Maybe there was something in him that was ready to announce it? Not in this way, that much was sure. But it had happened, and now the best he could do was roll with it. He ignored the remarks coming from your classmates, giving you a quick kiss before sitting down in his usual spot. 

“Looks good on you.”

[sebsrainbowbicycle]

Whats your opinion on the whole Christian Horner thing?

Let me preface this by saying, I have intentionally stayed away from this subject for many reasons, but given there was an outcome of the investigation today, and some of the information I’ve seen here throughout the past weeks, now is as good a time as any to respond to this ask I got weeks ago. This is not, nor will I be offering in the future, my opinion on whether Horner is guilty of the accusations or not. I just want to maybe provide context, and information from my experience and career thus far, that might help people understand, and also my opinion on the reaction from people. Caveat - I am not a lawyer, nor will I go into specifics of my current or previous job, however I worked in the legal profession where I worked on legal cases, reviewed evidence, and made submissions and recommendations that went in front of Judges.

Okay my thoughts. My thoughts are that an internal investigation that should have remained private for all parties involved, especially the alleged victim(s), was leaked and used as clickbait and gossip by the media and people on here and other social media sites. I think people decided guilt without having any genuine information, without seeing the evidence and without any credible sources. I think were the person being accused a different member of the paddock that the reaction would have been different. I think people used this to virtue signal and cry out about what good people they are. I think people that constantly say that the media and journalists shouldn’t be trusted, fed into a feeding frenzy that led to the name of the alleged victim(s) being published, which will undoubtedly impact them for the rest of their lives.

Onto specific things I have seen that I’d like to offer my take on:

Christian allegedly offering the victim a sum of money - First of all, for anyone who has a certain amount of wealth, especially those in the public eye, this is a usual occurrence. You try to avoid an investigation by any means possible, whether you’re innocent or guilty, because a) it’s easier and usually cheaper in the long run, b) pr and public image are damaged by even unfounded accusations and these things can run on for an extremely long time, and c) trial by media is a thing, and innocent people get tarnished for the rest of their lives because of something they were accused of. Now, I’m not saying any of those are why the offer was allegedly made, but those are some of the reasons. Companies do the same thing, when someone has an accident at work and hurts themselves, even if the company do not believe themselves to be at fault they will make a settlement offer, to avoid any legal back and forth. Settlements are not an admission of guilt, but a way to make something go away quickly.

Said money being why the investigation “went away” - I saw a quote that said “the grievance has been dismissed”, that means there was a finding, not that it was withdrawn. even so, this was a red bull investigation carried out by an external barrister. Once the company were made aware of the allegations, their investigation is independent of either party involved, so even if the alleged victim(s) withdrew their grievance, the company would still have a duty of care to ensure that any inappropriate behaviour or actions were identified, investigated and addressed. Most importantly, red bull want to protect themselves legally, and following the procedures and carrying out a thorough investigation, which would identify if they were potentially exposed to risk, is how they do that.

How can they ignore 100’s of pieces of evidence - We don’t know that they did. It was reported, but never confirmed that there was over 100 pieces of evidence submitted, so this is absolute hearsay. Further, I would be extremely surprised if the investigation ignored any piece of evidence, given the ramifications of an incorrect or improper investigation. Also I think it’s really important to say that evidence does not equal guilt or that one party to the proceedings is correct. Allow me to provide you with a personal example. I worked on a case where there was over 5000 pages of evidence submitted into a legal bundle. Approximately 4000 of those were from the appellant who argued that the other party had acted incorrectly. (forgive my vagueness here I’m not about to doxx myself). 4000 pages of evidence, which I reviewed and made a decision that I did not support their argument. The judge agreed with me also. Evidence can be subjective, and sometimes it can be completely irrelevant. The presence, and submission of evidence is to support one sides view of things, the other side will have their own, and both are examined and balanced and decisions made on that and sometimes also on other independent investigation.

The investigation is private and cannot be shared - This is law. GDPR in fact because this is occurring within Europe. I’m literally spending this entire week on a GDPR course, and have an exam on Friday, so I really don’t want to go on about legal basis and restrictions for sharing personal data, but let me tell you it’s for good reason, especially with investigations like this. All parties involved in this have a legal right to privacy, covered by the human rights act, and unless there is a compelling legal reason why their data should be shared, then it can’t be without their explicit consent. Simple as. And that’s disregarding that there will be confidential company information within the investigation that also cannot be shared.

Horner committed a crime - given that we do not know the specifics of what occurred we simply don’t have enough information to know this, HOWEVER, from the information I have read, and by the fact that I have not seen an indication that the police have been involved with this, nor are they carrying out their own investigation, I am working under the assumption that no law has been broken.

tl;dr - These are real people’s lives, we are not involved and we have no right to know anything. This isn’t salacious gossip, and it’s not a fun thing to band around and use as a stick to beat people with to prove how good we are. Processes and investigations like this should be private, and basing things on hearsay and unscrupulous reporters does more damage to any alleged victims than good. Having seen how fans and social media have treated this investigation, do you think that makes any other alleged victims want to come forwards? I think not. But that’s just me.

[hannie-dul-set]

CRASH & BURN.

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor. w — swearing, one absolutely horrendous dad joke, the secondhand embarrassment is even worse this time i'm not sorry at all, the rest of the en-kids are also losers. 1.3k words.

note — listen, who am i to deny the public from their needs and wants? i have no idea how rizzless hoon became such a hit, but ask and you shall receive. i'm sure this won't be the last you'll see of this loser. PART ONE. if you enjoy loser! hoon, you might also enjoy this other series of mine.

also tagging those who were asking for a part two hope u all don't mind! — @gyulune @jngwnlvs @snowysab @miercerise @karinasswifee @cerealdreamwriter @dinonuguaegi @tyongff-ff

for the past five days, you have been routinely returning to the skatepark at the same time without fail. this has obviously attracted questions from your friends considering the first time you tried out a longboard, you crashed and scraped and bruised your chin within seconds, but you can’t exactly tell them the truth about your endeavor— that you’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of mr. kuromi bandaid with the rollerblades again, and being left disappointed every single time.

he hasn’t shown up. not even once.

it’s day five, and there’s still no sign of him nor his lollipop. it’s day five, and you’re just about to give up until you spot from your peripheral a familiar group of boys that scared the shit out of you the other day— except this time, they aren’t staring at you like maniacs, and they seem to be one person less.

“are you fucking stupid?” you overhear as you hesitantly approach their circle, cautious steps because they’re still as intimidating as you can remember. they all look so serious, two individuals glaring at each other while the rest simply watch, both unconcerned and amused. “oh yeah? you really think you can beat me? wanna duke it out right now, dickwad?”

cold sweat breaks out and you freeze in your tracks, expecting them to spiral into a fist fight.

“my dragonite will sweep your fucking team, loser.”

“your dragonbitch doesn’t stand a chance against my tyranitar!”

nevermind. you really shouldn’t be so quick to judge them again.

you regain the bounce in your step and race up before they could metaphorically kick each other's asses.

“hi!” 

you flinch when the six heads suddenly snap towards you. your smile twitches, discomfort  lasering into your skin from the half a dozen set of narrowed eyes leering at you so intently and so intensely. “who are you?” the one previously bragging about his dragonite asks.

“dumbass.” another one smacks the former on the backside of his skull. “it’s shoelaces.”

the nickname sets a few lightbulbs off, and a pair breaks away from their violent staring at you to give each other knowing glances. “oh, shit!” this time it’s mr. tyranitar who exclaims. “right. the dude hoon absolutely decimated himself in front of. poor guy. he’s still going through the five stages of grief.”

hoon must mean sunghoon. you want to open your mouth and present your business about the missing individual, but it’s not so easy to butt in when they’re busy conversing amongst themselves.

“what do they want?” 

“how should i know? i’m not them?” 

“no fucking shit. but what do you think they want?”

“maybe it’s about hoon?”

“no way. that guy’s done for.”

“hey, don’t be too harsh on him! he’s grieving!”

“what if it’s because we‘re being too loud—”

“what if they’re here to have a pokemon batt—”

“you do realize they can hear you, right?” 

light-haired guy is right. you can very much hear them, and they’ve all finally quieted down, slowly turning their heads to you once more but with a dampened intensity this time. they’re waiting for you to speak. you can’t believe you thought they were scary. you can’t believe you were intimidated by a group of nerds.

“sorry for the intrusion,” you smile, pressing your palms together. “i noticed one of your friends hasn’t been coming around lately. is he okay?”

a cough. a nudge. a silent conversation between the six pairs of eyes. “he’s been sick these past few days,” dragonite owner finally says. “sickeningly unbearab— ow!” 

your smile disappears. “oh no.” he’s sick? he already didn’t seem that strong when you met him the other day, collapsing into the ground and all.

“i think you can help him get better— ouch! jungwon, what the fuck?” one of them gets hit again. you’re sure it’s been the same guy hitting the rest of them since earlier.

“why are you asking about him?”

the nicest looking one squeezes out of their group while asking his earnest question, fishing out the answer from you with bright, curious eyes. “ah,” you sound out. “i just wanted to tell him that i also think his shoelaces are really cool.”

they stare at you, then stare at each other. and then someone spews out, “is that a new pick-up line, or some shit?” before getting hit again, and the light-haired guy comes forward to block the squabble happening behind him, and to tell you that they’ll be dragging their friend tomorrow at the same time (isn’t he supposed to be sick?) so you can compliment his shoelaces in person(?), and that they are looking forward to welcoming you to their family (whatever the fuck that means).

as promised, they do drag the sick man into the skatepark— literally dragging him because the guy who introduced himself yesterday as jake is pulling him forward by the sleeve while jungwon pushes him from behind as the wheels of his roller skates make sure that sunghoon keeps on moving. he looks like he’s ready to move on into the afterlife. your eyes light up when they drag him closer.

“c’mon, hyung! just a little bit more— a liiiiittle bit—

“i told you, i’m never coming back here again!“ you hear him groan, attempting to break away from his escort team. “never ever. never again. this is is where half of my dignity is buried. my pride. my shame. my—”

and then he freezes.

sunghoon gets frozen by an invisible force when your eyes meet, frozen but his cheeks are set ablaze. his friends did a great job in escorting him to you, encasing him and in consequence his view of his surroundings until you’re within an arm’s reach so he doesnt run away. the heat from his face thaws him back into movement, panicked and angry expressions sent to his friends and they all look pretty stupid trying to talk with just their eyebrows, but it’s cute nonetheless.

“hey!” you finally chipper in, causing sunghoon to freeze once more, creaking to meet your gaze. 

“h—hello. hi.”

sunghoon’s greeting comes out as a choke. jake and jungwon send each other signals before hurling the poor boy at you.

it’s like he’s suddenly forgotten how to skate. he can’t control his muscles, sliding over the short path at a dangerous speed that mimics his racing heart and oh shit— oh shit, oh shit. how does he stop again? how does he make a turn? how does he not fucking crash into you like a meteor being sucked into the earth’s orbit?

“oh!”

like all of his (very limited) interactions with you, sunghoon crashes and burns. it’s inevitable. but this time, he crashes and burns into you. you’re both on the concrete and his hand feels like it got crushed between the hard ground and the back of your head, but that pain quickly subsides into a numbing buzz, pumping his arteries with nectar, burning his veins with gasoline, because holy crap—

“close.”

“you’re right, that was a close call,” you breathe out. “i could’ve cracked my skull open.”

“i— i mean, close, you’re— you’re too close.”

does he realize that you can’t exactly move underneath him? he probably doesn’t, not when you can practically see the smoke emitting from his head and the panicked swirl in his eyes and you can’t help but laugh. “ah, sorry.” that was a mistake. sunghoon’s face flushes warmer and like a hammer to his skull, the realization hits and he and slowly pries himself off of you.

“sorry—”

“it’s fine.” you sit up and brush the dust off your clothes, stretching out your legs as you nudge yourself closer to him on the ground. “your friends told me you’ve been sick. are you feeling better now?”

“huh?” 

you’re not sure why he’s confused, but he looks very confused before turning his gaze to his friends. you find jay snapping out a thumbs up and sunoo’s stern face somehow reading don’t fucking blow it. he turns back to you with a lot more sweat on his neck than prior. “oh, yeah i was sick, i was so sick, ahaha—” he stammers. “a—anyway, what’s up?”

“i just wanted to see you again. it’s not everyday that i get a compliment on my shoelaces, you know?” you smile. “what about today? aren’t they prettier than the last ones?”

you wiggle your shoes to show off, laced in a complicated pattern that you’ve been practicing for the past five days, and you expect to receive another compliment for it, but sunghoon is oddly quiet. 

he’s quiet. you’re sure you chose a cool pair of shoes this morning. you’re about to be disappointed, until you notice that he’s actually thinking. he’s thinking very hard he’s thinking of something, and that something comes out of his mouth in the form of a badly timed pun.

“...what about...toe-day...”

park sunghoon only knows how to crash and burn. all his friends are a witness to that. they’re a witness to this events that transpired this afternoon, but what they didn’t expect is for you to have an affinity for disasters. you’re laughing at his dumb joke. you’re actually laughing. they’ve been shitting on sunghoon for being hopeless, but maybe there’s something wrong with you, too.

CRASH & BURN.

© hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[fleshengine]

A lot of HDG stuff I see boils down to “this would be a fun setup to getting domesticated” and isn’t really an exploration of the world or anything. Like… a human and an affini make a bet that the human won’t last 30 minutes on class Cs without confessing her love, the affini changes the rules to trick the human into getting domesticated, whatever. It’s fine, I liked it, when I was feeling subby earlier it gave me gut tingles.

Maybe I’m just a POS english major and shouldn’t be judging ficlets as harshly as I am but like… where’s the conflict? Where’s the story? What does this say about the world of HDG that affini can do something like that?

I think that’s why I’ve been enjoying Courtship by teagan_the_doll on ao3 so much. It has a predestined ending, we know how this is going to end like with most HDG stuff but in Courtship it is established as being firmly in the far future. It has so much more to say about the world and I think does a great job of doing it. Humans have conversations about their friend who’s a floret now. A human thinks about her own feelings towards being a floret in the future. There even seems to be a nod at the “traditional” HDG story with one of the characters getting domesticated in like a week after a funny encounter with an affini. I’m less than halfway through it and I absolutely love it.

Go read Courship by teagan_the_doll on ao3. NOW

[v3x-y0urs3lf]

Qiu Lin x Loner / unpopular / shy? MC

Written during the demo ⭐️

Tamarack x Popular reader

Depending on what steps I’m talking about, I’ll change Qiu’s pronouns..

Also, I’m aware that being a ‘loner’ or unpopular doesn’t necessarily mean you’re shy. I do occasionally mention the MC being shy, unlike step 1 Qiu I’m not always going to be able to be too accommodating.

I kind of got sidetracked during the end of Step 3, I’m sorry it doesn’t really fit with the theme.

I am incredibly tired right now, apologies if the English isn’t clear. I did not proof read this.

————————————————————

I feel like this trope perfectly fits Qiu during a majority of the steps (1-3 I don’t really know about 4.) mainly because Qiu - despite not really intending on it, just is naturally popular even during step 2 (somehow?)

Step one Qiu just doing his usual thing with being overly accommodating and super welcoming to the new neighbour and they’re just.. not accepting it?

You can try and turn Qiu down softly or even just straight up ignore him and he’d.. accept it? I dunno, going off by Qiu’s normal reactions to when you choose to dismiss him.. he doesn’t seem like he’d care unless someone’s starting to judge or bother the MC and vice versa.

I’d like to just highlight that like.. everyone knows Qiu? I quite literally just imagine a bunch of kids during school constantly asking to play with him and while Qiu feels a bit too mean to decline.. he really wants to go play with his new neighbour?

Qiu would try and introduce the MC (and Tamarack.. maybe.) to all of his other friends but.. Neither of them are really budging which puts Qiu at a bit of a cross point.

I’m honestly not too sure what he’d do, lol. My heart wants me to say that Qiu would just go play with the MC anyways, regardless of how many people want him to play with t them but. My brain is telling me he’d give in to all the majority and play with them for a while before going to find the MC later.

Does that mean Qiu doesn’t want to go play with the MC instead? No. Does that mean Qiu doesn’t look their way occasionally while he’s playing tag with the other kids? No. Does that mean Qiu hurts the other kids’ feelings by straight up turning them down? Also no.

Logically thinking, despite what he wants- Qiu would pick to accomodate for the bigger crowd but leave a section of his time to make up for ‘ditching’ the MC for a moment.

It’s very obvious around that Qiu will always go back for the MC. No matter how fun the game is, No matter how distracted/forgetful he usually gets, No matter how many people he’s playing with- He will. Without a doubt. Go talk or play with the MC for at least 10 minutes before break or whatever ends.

Now, Step two.. “All they want in life is a little peace with the ones they trust. Such as, potentially their very favourite neighbor/neighbour.”

Qiu is still very obviously and very much ‘popular’. That never changes throughout their life (probably). They just don’t want to be.

Picture Qiu and MC, chilling by themselves and just avoiding people. By this stage there shouldn’t be any shyness or complete hatred and so, the two of them just sit with each other comfortably as Qiu rejects and declines any and all offers to hang out with anyone else but MC, Ren, Baxter(?) and.. potentially Tamarack? (Not sure about the last two.)

Unfortunately, Qiu can’t control their popularity or ‘Acquaintances’/old friends and everyone does notice when the ‘popular kid’ starts solely hanging out with one person in particular.

I’m not saying MC is getting bullied.. I’m just saying everyone can tell there is obvious favouritism and high school students can and will be mean.. take that as you will.

This is totally the time for “doesn’t get the hype but warms up to person B”.

I might just be biased but.. After 4 years you’d think you’d warm up to the neighbour kid enough to start to.. tolerate? Be content? .. perhaps even enjoy the presence of?

I don’t want to describe the MC too much but let’s just say the feelings between the both of them are mutual. (As in two teens just wanting to get away from the world.)

The two of you find solace in each other’s presence, the two of you having a mutual understanding that you both don’t really want to interact with the world but you’re totally fine with each other.

I hate how short step 2 was but I don’t know how else to describe angsty teens being angsty teens. So we’re moving onto Step three.

Qiu now understands the MC more, After having 8 years knowing each other and at least 4 years of deep conversations as angsty teenagers they can now officially say they understand your point of view.

Qiu doesn’t try to push the MC out of their comfort zone like he would’ve back in Step 1 but they certainly wouldn’t leave the MC to exactly stay in their own shell of aloofness.

Qiu does try to suggest getting out there, meeting new people but if you totally don’t want to- Up to you! They aren’t you and so they will NOT make that decision for you.

Autumn is up for a chat if you’re looking for one though, even the quietest, shyest, most aloof people in town sometimes need someone their age to talk to. Qiu gets it.

You were there through a very deep part of Qiu’s life and they are ready to be for you too if you want them there. Qiu can’t promise that they’ll help solve your problems or make you the talk of the town, but you better bet that they’ll cherish your relationship far after death do the two of you part.

[odyssean-flower]

probably gonna cut this scene

but it was fun to write so maybe i'll include it in a later chapter

“Neuvillette,” you called out as you stepped into the room. “There’s something I want to discuss—”

Your words broke off as your eyes fully took in the sight before you.

Forearms. The words popped into your mind out of nowhere. Neck.

Neuvillette’s usual long blue robes were hanging on the chair behind him. For that reason, he was only wearing a white dress shirt. That wasn’t what made you speechless. You had seen him in that state plenty of times before. No, what stunned you was the fact that his sleeves were rolled up and that the first two buttons of his shirt were undone. Without his clothing obscuring them, you were able to feast your eyes on the sight of his sinewy arms and the smooth, unblemished skin at the juncture between his neck and collarbones.

He was usually so covered-up, even at home, that seeing so much of his skin exposed felt akin to seeing him naked. Oh no, don’t think about that, don’t think about that…  

“Madame? Madame, is something the matter?” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts, which were heading in a rather dangerous direction. To your extreme embarrassment, you realized that your mouth was hanging open slightly. No wonder he looked so concerned.

“Um, er…it’s nothing!” your voice came out in a higher octave. You took a step backwards. What a great start!

“Are you sure? Your face looks a bit red,” Neuvillette stood up. “You shouldn’t be staying up so late, especially if you might be sick.”

“Oh no, I assure you, I’m perfectly healthy. It must be a trick of the light,” you said with a nervous laugh, which probably didn’t serve to assuage Neuvillette’s concerns, judging by the deepening furrow between his brows. “I really am fine. I just happened to have drunk a few cups of coffee before bed. Anyways, I’m the one who should be asking after you.”

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 7

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words : 4k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Friday, October 23rd; 11:35 AM - Cafeteria

I can hardly believe I’m going home. My suitcase has been packed since last night. I couldn’t help but share the news with Alexia when we were alone. She was super happy for me. We’re finishing up our meal. Everyone gets to go home this weekend. I called Sam this morning to confirm my return. We decided to surprise Joan. If I managed to have the permission to leave , it’s all thanks to him. When I saw him on the screen last Saturday, he cried like a baby because I wasn’t there. I realized how much he misses me. I can’t wait to set foot in Barcelona and see everyone again.

"Hey Ona!" Alexia calls out to me.

"Huh?" I reply, snapped out of my bubble.

"There we go, we’ve already lost her," Caudia laughs.

"Sorry," I say, my cheeks red, unable to deny it.

"Are you planning to celebrate your birthday this weekend?" Alba asks.

"I plan to enjoy time with my brother and best friend," I shrug. "No party planned... At least not by me."

"Hey, we need to exchange numbers! I want to hear all about your weekend!" Ale enthuses.

"No problem." I smile at her, agreeing with the idea. It’s true, we haven’t even exchanged numbers yet. The rules significantly limit our phone usage.

"Well, should we give it to her?" Patri asks with a big smile. "We’ll be late otherwise!"

"Yeah, she’s right," Lotte agrees.

I frown, not understanding what’s going on. I seem to be the only one judging by everyone’s smiles. I focus on Alexia, who’s pulling out a square-shaped gift with a little bow on top. I freeze for a moment, looking at her with wide eyes. She smiles, amused.

"Oh no..." I murmur. "You’re not serious, right? Why did you do this?"

"Come on, open it, Princess," Leah encourages.

I don’t know what to say. The tray is taken from me, and Alexia places the gift in front of me. I groan, hating being the center of attention. I take my time unwrapping the gift under my friends’ watchful eyes. As soon as I pull a strip, the contents are revealed. I pause for a moment. I can’t believe what’s in front of me. It’s the new AirPods Max. I look around the table, speechless. I wasn’t expecting a gift like this... Actually, I wasn’t expecting a gift at all.

"You guys are crazy! This thing is expensive!"

"It was Alexia’s idea!" Patri blurts out.

This revelation makes me turn my head towards her. She shrugs with a small smile stretching her lips.

"I know you like listening to music before you sleep. Maybe this will stop me from hearing it," she giggles.

"Ha ha!" I fake laugh. "But seriously, it’s too much! You shouldn’t have."

"You should thank Bronze too," Leah surprises me by saying. "She covered the difference we were missing and took care of getting it... That’s why Alexia ditched us yesterday," she laughs.

"Bronze?"

I don’t hide my surprise. I wasn’t expecting that... It’s very surprising, but it makes me very happy deep down. She didn’t have to do it. I wonder why she did.

"Wow... Thank you anyway. Thanks for everything! I’ll use it right away on the trip."

"Phew, we nailed it!" Alba comments, making everyone laugh.

We have to end this good vibe due to the time. Everyone needs to go back to their rooms to avoid being late. I get everyone’s numbers written down on a piece of paper and take the opportunity to thank them again. With my gift and its packaging in my bag, I return to our room with Alexia. I quickly discard the paper and sit on the bed with the box. I open my gift like a child at Christmas under Alexia’s amused gaze. It’s really beautiful. It’s the best gift I’ve had in a long time. I quickly understand how my new toy works. I test it immediately by connecting it to my phone via Bluetooth. At the same time, I take out the rest of the box. I find a protective case. I smile when the sound reaches my ears. The sound quality is really good. I let Alexia try it while I gather my things. She’s as excited as I am to check it out. When I’m done, she hands back the headset, and for the first time, I take the initiative to hug her.

"Enjoy your first weekend."

"I plan to. I don’t know how the next one will be though..."

I’m not sure about my next outing. For all I know, I’ll be stuck here alone again. She laughs, understanding what I mean. It’s not hard to figure out. It’s my first outing in three weeks. I look at her attentively and can’t help but smile, thinking about all we’ve been through together.

"I really appreciate you, Ale."

"I know."

"Sorry for my issues... You know, with relationships... You’re my friend. Like everyone else here."

"We know, Ona. Don’t worry. Just know that I’m here if you ever want to talk."

I nod, hugging her again. I turn back to my stuff. I have a lot to take for a first return. It’s like I’m leaving for good, but not at all. I just feel obliged to bring everything back with me. Since we wear uniforms during the week, I’m bringing back a lot of clothes that just clutter my closet. I’ll have to sort through at home what will come back since I can only wear them on weekends.

"Are you waiting for Alba?"

"Yeah, she shouldn’t be long."

"Well... See you Sunday night then. Have a good weekend!"

We kiss each other goodbye, and she wishes me the same. I leave with a smile on my face, my Eastpak backpack on and my suitcase behind me. I put my headset around my neck, intending to use it once I’m out of here since we can’t use them inside. My smile broadens when I see Bronze waiting behind the door. We haven’t seen each other since the room check this morning. She promised to accompany me to the exit, and I’m glad to see she kept her word. I didn’t want to leave sneakily, especially after learning about the gift. The least I can do is thank her. For that, and because it’s partly thanks to her that I get to leave. I close the door behind me before starting the conversation.

"Hey Bronze!"

"Nice headset," she begins. "Too bad it’s forbidden in the facility," she retorts, gently taking it off me.

"Hey!" I exclaim, parting my lips slightly. "You’re not going to confiscate it, are you?"

"No," she laughs. "Even though I should. I’ll give it back when you’re outside the camp."

A sigh of relief escapes my lips. I almost thought she’d keep it for the weekend. She would be capable of it, I think. She can be a real viper when she wants. She’s given me enough trouble to know that.

"I wanted to thank you... You didn’t have to do that."

"I know, but it makes me happy," she smiles. "Come on, let’s go. It would be a shame to miss your flight."

I smile, following her. We walk to the fence in silence. She just helps me carry my suitcase down the stairs, seeing I was struggling. It’s heavy with everything I’m bringing back!

"Are you finally going to make room for your uniforms in your closet?"

"Oh come on," I mumble. "I couldn’t have imagined we’d have uniforms here."

"You could have organized your closet in the last three weeks."

"If it bothers you so much, just don’t look in it," I mumble. "I already forced myself to know you rummaged through it."

"I told you I didn’t rummage."

"You did! You’d never have found my computer otherwise!"

"Are we going to debate this again? Where did all your progress from this week go?"

"Still here... For the gift you gave me."

"Good thing I participated then," she concludes as we reach the gate. "Wait here, I’ll be right back."

I nod, watching her head to the reception building without waiting for my answer. She returns a minute later with a package in hand. I frown.

"What’s this?"

"Another gift. Open it tomorrow for your birthday."

"But you already contributed to the headset."

"So? At least I’m sure you’ll keep up your progress," she teases.

"Ah, I get it!" I joke. "Thanks anyway..."

My embarrassment seems to amuse her. I didn’t expect her to give me gifts after making her life hell for three long weeks. I doubt she does this for all her students.

"I expect you not to do anything stupid this weekend. I think you know what I mean by that. And especially don’t try to run away and not come back. I’m not done with you yet."

I roll my eyes. "Don’t give me ideas," I laugh.

"I’m serious, Ona. I’d be capable of coming after you."

"Don’t worry. I’ll be good as gold."

"I’d like to see that!"

"You don’t know who I really am."

"I know. Have a good weekend. And seriously, no nonsense, especially if you celebrate your birthday."

"Promise, mom."

She hits my arm for the nickname that slipped out. I laugh and walk through the door she holds open.

"Thanks for everything, Bronze. See you Monday... Have a good weekend too."

"Thanks, see you Monday, Ona," she smiles.

I smile back and turn to greet my taxi driver. She loads my things into the car. I give Bronze one last wave. I’m about to get into the car but turn back sharply when I see what she’s holding. I walk back, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"You scold me for taking it, but you forget it. Next time, I’ll keep it for the weekend," she smiles, amused.

"Not a chance. Thanks for not doing it," I say, taking back the headset.

"Go on, see you Monday."

I smile and finally get into the waiting taxi. I take a deep breath once inside and buckled up. The driver looks at me through the mirror.

"To the airport, right?"

"Yes, please."

"Let’s go," he smiles, pulling onto the road.

I smile foolishly, still not believing that in a few hours, I’ll finally set foot in my city. Away from this camp and everything related to it. I shut out the world by turning on my new headset to enjoy my music during the trip.

Friday, October 23rd; 11:15 PM - Airport

The trip wore me out. I wonder how that’s possible since I slept the whole way. I can’t even blame jet lag since it’s only 10 PM at Manchester . It’s always amazed me. I’m lucky it’s in this direction. At least if I get up early, it will be later here. I follow the crowd out of the plane. My feet are numb from sitting for an hour. My headset is still on my ears. I’m surprised by its battery life, considering it wasn’t fully charged when I left. I turn it off when I reach the airport. The music gives way to the bustling hall. It’s definitely the best way to wake up. I scan the crowd, hoping to spot a familiar face. I freeze when I finally do. Before I can gather my thoughts, someone jumps on me, clinging to me as if their life depends on it. I hug them back as tightly as I can, grinning widely.

"Oh my God, Maps! »

I can't hold back my tears that roll down her neck. She tightens her embrace and laughs at my behavior. It's not like me to be so expressive in public, but it seems the pressure is finally lifting.

"Wow! Has this camp transformed you or what?" she says, stepping back to look me up and down. "Is it just me or have you lost weight?"

I chuckle as I look at myself. It's true that I had to check the number on the scale twice the last time I weighed myself.

"Yeah, thanks to the sports they make me do as punishment," I reply.

She laughs as we join my chauffeur, who is not far from us.

"Hi Hector."

"Good evening Ona, how are you?"

"Much better since I set foot here," I chuckle, wiping my cheeks.

"Let's get your suitcase."

"Yep."

We head to the conveyor belt where I find several people from my flight already waiting to collect their luggage. I retrieve mine when it arrives. Hector insists on taking it for me. I don't resist, but I don't let him have my backpack that I was able to keep on the plane. We head towards the exit. I take the opportunity to take out my phone and send a message to Alexia. I had promised to write to her upon my arrival. This action doesn't go unnoticed by Mapi.

"Who are you texting?"

"My roommate. She asked me to write when I landed."

"So... I leave you for three weeks and you've already replaced me!"

"Of course not," I giggle, putting away my phone. "No one can replace you, Maps. I'm sure you'd even love her."

"What's her name?"

« Alexia Putellas. She'd be your type of girl…"

« Intresting… »

She raises her eyebrows suggestively while laughing. I roll my eyes with amusement. Luckily, Hector has gone ahead to give us some privacy. That saves him from hearing a lot of nonsense.

"So Octavia could be my type? Anyway, all girls can be my type as long as they're pretty."

"I know, and exactly. She's very beautiful."

"And you haven't hooked up with her yet?" Mapi exclaims.

"I don't do one-night stands," I laugh. "And she's become a friend, so never in my life!"

"You're really hopeless! You never take advantage of situations!"

"You say that, but aren't you in a relationship now?"

"Yeah," she sighs. "I don't know if I made the right choice. I've lost all my freedom... She's super possessive!"

"That bad?" I laugh. "What's her name again?"

« Ana. I'll introduce you to her tomorrow if you want."

"No problem," I say with a smile. "Does she know you're here?"

"That I'm picking up my ex at the airport who is now my best friend? Are you crazy?! She'd kill me!"

I burst out laughing. So she lies to her girlfriend for me. I appreciate that she always puts me first, no matter what. She must have come up with an excuse I'd never want to know. She's so bad at this sort of thing, or maybe I just know her too well.

"By the way..."

"By the way?" I prompt her to continue.

"She knows you're my best friend, but not my ex... So if you could keep that to yourself."

"No problem, I understand. And what are you doing here anyway? I didn't think I'd see you tonight."

"You really thought I'd let you land alone? I canceled all my plans when you told me you were coming back! I immediately wrote to Sam to let Hector know to pick me up before getting you."

I smile. What did I say, always a priority. I'm happy to see her. I missed her a lot.

"Are you sleeping over?" I suggest.

"Of course, what kind of question is that! But according to Hector, Joan has taken over your bed for the night. We'll have to squeeze in."

Joan sleeping in my bed during my absence? I didn't think my departure would affect him so much. He used to do that when I slept at Mapi's. I start to feel guilty for not telling him about my return... I convince myself it's for a good cause. I'd give anything to see his happy little face when he sees me. It will be my best reward.

"It's not like we're not used to it."

"That's true," she laughs. "He misses you, you know."

"I know," I sigh. "I wish I could call him more often, but it's impossible. I can only use my phone and computer in my room. Plus, with all the punishments I've had, I'm exhausted at night and I also have my homework to do and my backlog to catch up on..."

"Is that camp really that bad?"

I sigh, recalling my last few weeks. The answer should be automatic, but strangely, it isn't anymore.

"It's getting better. Well, the first two weeks were awful. I kept getting punishments and arguing with my supervisor," I explain.

"Yeah, I remember. Isn't she the one you find sexy?"

I give her a stern look, glancing at Hector in front of us. She chuckles at my reaction.

"Oh, come on! He knew about us. It's not the fact that you find a woman sexy that will bother him."

"Shut up," I say, blushing.

"So this camp? It's not so terrible after all?" she returns to the main topic, to my great relief.

"Let's say to get out, I had to make an immense effort to do nothing wrong. Since then, my supervisor has become very nice to me. She even bought me a gift and contributed to my friends' present," I say, pointing to the helmet.

"Your friends, huh? And you say you're not replacing me?" she pouts.

"Oh my, I laugh, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. "You know you're still the best, Map."

"I hope so!"

"They're funny and nice, but definitely not as much as you. No one can match you," I reassure her with a cheerful smile.

"They better not! After all the mood swings I've had to endure!"

It's true she's seen a lot of ups and downs with me. I owe her everything. I pushed her away, and she came back when I needed her. Hector's voice breaks the bubble we had created around us.

"Can we go?"

"Yeah, sure," Maps quickly responds.

For the first time in a long while, I sit in the back of the vehicle to spend a bit more time with Mapi. The trip was short as the road was empty. Barcelona is really a better city. After twenty minutes, we arrived home. I remember it took us thirty minutes to get to the airport last time. I suspect Hector didn't stick to the speed limit, which is rare for him. I think he wanted to get home quickly, which I understand given the late hour. I thank him and release him from his duties once the car is in the garage. We enter quietly, without making noise. Silence reigns in the hall. Everyone must be asleep. I offer Mapi a drink, which she gladly accepts. We go to the kitchen, and I act as if I had never left. She sits on one of the high chairs at the bar while I pour us two glasses of Coke. At the same time, I hear an unusual ringtone behind me. I frown, looking at Mapi to see if she knows what it is. I quickly understand the source when I see her panicking with her phone in her hands. I guess it's an alarm she's trying to turn off. She looks up with an apologetic smile, then gets up from her chair.

"Happy birthday, my dear!"

I remain perplexed before bursting into laughter, understanding the meaning of the alarm. It was a reminder to alert her that it was midnight. I accept the hug she offers, wrapping my arms around her neck.

"You're unbelievable," I chuckle. "Thanks, Maps!"

"Always the first. Remember?"

"Of course I remember," I reply, smiling.

I don't particularly like my birthday, but Mapi has always wanted to make sure I do. Since our first year of meeting, we've established that we must be the first to wish each other a happy birthday, no matter what. So far, neither of us has broken this vow, not even when I hit rock bottom.

"Let's go to bed now, I'm exhausted."

"You? At midnight?" I laugh.

« Ana is making me adopt a new rhythm," she grumbles.

I laugh even more. I could never have imagined anyone could tame Mapi besides me. She's usually an independent girl.

"I can't wait to meet her."

"Don't get any ideas, she just tires me out in bed before sleeping."

I take back what I said. I knew it was too good to be true. Mapi can't be controlled by anyone except me. It's mutual, actually.

"I understand why you stay with her then."

"Shut up," she smiles. "She's a goddess in bed, I can't help it," she retorts.

I shake my head in amusement. I head towards the kitchen door when I see something. I stand up, spotting my little brother rubbing his eyes with his little fists.

"Ona?" he says, still half-asleep.

"Hey, sweetheart," I say, approaching him.

He seems fully awake now. He literally jumps into my arms. I crouch to his level to carry him.

"But... Sam told me you wouldn't be back!"

"I wanted to surprise you," I say with a big smile.

"It's not nice to lie!"

"You're right. We'll scold Sam tomorrow," M api intervenes.

Joan laughs, burying his face in my neck. I hold him tightly against me. I missed him so much!

"Sorry if we woke you. We were just going to come up and join you."

"Ona?"

"Yes?"

"Happy birthday!"

"Thank you, sweetie."

He is so innocent and so cute. Mapi takes care of putting our glasses in the dishwasher as Joan doesn't want to be put down. My home is her home, after all. We then go upstairs. When I open the door to my room, I discover my bed uncovered. So he really decided to take over my room, it seems. I persuade him to let go of me when I put him back to bed so I can change. Mapi takes advantage of me looking for pajamas in my dressing room to monopolize the bathroom. I'm glad I left some clothes here. I wouldn't have had the courage to open my suitcase right now. We switch roles when Maps is done. She lies down in my bed while I brush my teeth. Again, I'm glad I bought a new toothbrush for the camp. I join them once I'm done. My brother tries his best to stay awake. He immediately snuggles into my arms once I've found my ideal sleeping position.

"Good night, Batlle," Raven wishes us.

"Good night, Ona. Good night, Mapi..."

I smile, seeing him already drifting into the arms of Morpheus. I kiss him forehead and rest my chin on his head. I let out a sigh of contentment. I feel good. I'm in my bed with the people I care about most. I couldn't have dreamed of a better homecoming. It's a radical change, but very appreciable. I intend to enjoy this weekend to the fullest. I murmur a "good night" before finally closing my eyes.

[poppy-metal]

you get so excited when he writes back. you don’t tell your parents about him, because they never like the boys you bring home anyway, and there’s no need until you actually do bring him home. you’re quite surprised when he does reply, again another thing you didn’t think about, another display of your short sightedness.

hey

thanks for the letter. i don’t get many so yours made my day. you’re a very pretty girl. you know i’m bad don’t you? you shouldn’t be writing to a guy like me. but im happy you did. you said you think im beautiful. tell me more about what you think of me, and what you thought when you watched the trial. what did you think of that cunt of a judge? also, have you done this before? have you spoken to other killers? you have to tell me. i have to know. don’t speak to any others from now on. they might not be as friendly as i am.

yours truly

patrick zweig

aka the hamptons hatchet man xx

you kiss that letter a thousand times and sleep with it under your pillow. you spend hours crafting the perfect reply, while patrick spends his time hoarding his meds to drug guards, and begins stashing away any and all sharp objects he can get his degenerate paws on. anything to reach you before the loose men of the world do.

THE HAMPTONS HATCHET MAN..... stop because him using a hatchet.... swinging it over his head and bringing it down.... I like this visual, I'm seeing it. and thing is he mostly just killed bad people, people who pissed him the fuck off - alot of people feel sympathy for him, especially women. but most of them are cock hounds - they just want a taste of danger without actually knowing what it means. he's kind of disturbed by them. the desperation. he's definitely not the man to harp on about morals, but really?

but there's something about you - you're not horny, for one. you're kind of silly - sweet. you're not writing him because you want a "bad boy" to write you back, you saw something in him you relate to on a deeper level, you feel connected to him on an emotional level. you say you understand what it's like to feel helpless and alone and angry. you're the only girl he ever writes back.

his handwriting is shit - but something about it makes your heart full. the way the ink bleeds in places - the sharp aggressive scrawl. you kiss the paper, blot it with your lip stain.

the connection isn't sexual to start - not for you, anyway. it's not long though that your stomach starts fluttering in your belly at his crude language. a throbbing between your legs you haven't felt before. you wanted to be friends. let him know he had a friend.

he keeps saying fuck in his letters, though. keeps calling you things like sweetheart and good girl and princess - and it makes you feel funny. you feel so guilty, you've never felt this way before.

do you tell him? maybe he can explain these feelings to you. he's much more experienced and he's your friend. he would be honest with you, upfront.

I dont want you to be mad at me - but my feelings are changin' towards you. not in a bad way - I don't think. I'm not sure, actually. maybe it's bad. I care about you. you're my friend. but sometimes...... sometimes when I think about you and the way you speak to me I feel a little funny. it's like butterflies but down there.... you know in my private place. I know it's inappropriate to talk about it - mama would beat my hide for even mentioning my private parts to another man. I'm just so confused. it gets wet. almost like an ache. but not the ache I get in my stomach when it's my monthly - that's a bad ache. this feels different. I know there are things I don't understand that other people do. would you tell me? I don't like not understanding what's happening to my body. I don't think it's bad. if I had to pinpoint it - I'd say it's almost good. but too much good. I'm sorry I'm botherin' you with this. I just trust you more than anyone else. with everything. with me.

[intheticklecloset]

Stressed (Dr. Stone)

Modern AU

Summary: Senku loses his notebook and immediately blames Gen, but Gen is innocent for once. After recovering the notebook, they both realize they're a little too stressed out and could use some relief.

Word Count: 1031

~~~

“Asagiri!”

Gen froze, stunned to hear his last name being shouted from the other room like that, coming from Senku of all people.

He immediately began backtracking in his mind as to what he could have possibly done to make him so mad.

The scientist clomped down the stairs and into the kitchen, looking – thankfully – more exasperated than angry. “Where did you put it?”

Gen, still panicking, stammered, “W-What do you mean? Put what where?”

“My notebook!” Senku cried, gesturing behind him as if that would explain everything. “All my equations and experiment notes – where did you hide it?”

“I didn’t—”

“Cut the crap, Gen, I’m not in the mood for this today!”

Gen went silent, frozen in terror. He’d never seen Senku so frustrated, let alone angry enough to actually snap at him. He didn’t know how to handle this version of his boyfriend. Quiet Senku? Yes. Shy Senku? Absolutely! Rambling on and on about something Gen didn’t understand Senku? Of course, he was no amateur.

But angry Senku? He had no idea.

As the silence stretched on, the scientist seemed to realize he’d gone too far. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just…I’m so close to cracking this one. I need my notes to take the next step, and I know you stole them.”

“I didn’t steal anything,” Gen said quietly. “Not this time. I swear. But…maybe I can help you look for it?”

Senku considered him for a moment, then seemed to decide his partner was telling the truth and sighed heavily. He turned to go back upstairs. “Sure, whatever.”

Gen silently followed behind him, beginning to search together with the scientist. He knew exactly which notebook he was referring to; it was the one he’d been obsessively scribbling in for weeks now. The blue one. The problem was, there were a myriad of notebooks in Senku’s lab, and finding this particular one was like finding a needle in a haystack.

But Gen was determined to prove himself innocent.

It took nearly fifteen minutes, but finally Senku made a frustrated noise and said, “Here it is.”

Gen turned and sure enough, the blue notebook was clutched in the scientist’s hands. Judging by where he was standing, it had to have found its way over to Senku’s shelf of completed projects by accident.

Well, as long as it was found.

“See? I didn’t steal it.” Gen shifted on his feet nervously, rubbing his palm with the opposite thumb – a habit he’d picked up for when he was stressed.

Senku, being Senku, noticed immediately.

“Look, I’m…I’m sorry, Gen,” he said, setting the notebook on his table and moving to join his partner by the door. He took his hand to stop his tic. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just know that you like to steal the things I’m working on when you want attention, so I assumed…”

Gen smiled weakly. “It’s okay. It was a logical conclusion.”

“I was a jerk just now. I’m sorry.” Senku gently brushed his lips over Gen’s knuckles, making the mentalist blush. “Maybe…maybe we should have some kind of code word for this situation next time. Something that tells me you’re not kidding when you do the ‘I didn’t take it’ bullcrap.”

Gen couldn’t help but smile. “A safe word for when I’m messing with you?”

Senku nodded. “Something like that.”

“Just let me know what it is when you figure it out, Senku-chan.”

The scientist groaned and pressed their foreheads together, wrapping his arms around Gen’s waist. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I know. But you’re stuck with me anyway~”

“Can I make it up to you? I really am sorry.”

Gen hummed thoughtfully. “I forgive you, Senku. But perhaps I can turn that frown upside-down?”

Senku tensed, but made no move to escape while he could. Instead he let out another sigh and chuckled softly. “How can you read me so well?”

“I’m a mentalist,” Gen whispered, hands sliding from his boyfriend’s chest to his sides. “That’s my job.”

The scientist broke into a smile as Gen began scribbling, softly tickling him over to the bed and pushing him down, fingers dancing and teasing his skin, drawing light giggles out of the younger man.

“You’re too stressed, my dear Senku-chan,” Gen half-teased, leaning down to kiss his cheeks as he tickled gently.

Senku tried biting his lip to suppress his snickers, but it did no good when Gen slipped under his shirt to scratch at his bare tummy. He twisted his head to the side, blushing furiously. “I knohohohohow. I cahahahahan’t hehehehelp it.”

“Lucky for you, I can~”

Times like these were rare, and Gen cherished them with all his heart. Senku’s stress levels getting so high he couldn’t resist the allure of being gently tickled back into a happy, clearer headspace. One of the only times he wouldn’t fight it; he’d just let himself relax and giggle and be loved until Gen had given his nod of approval that all was well once more.

This time took a bit longer, but finally Gen hummed his satisfied hum, and Senku gripped his wrists to push him away – a silent indicator he was done.

But then Gen took his wrists instead and pinned them to the bed, leaning down to kiss Senku’s neck, relishing in the surprised squeak the scientist let out.

“Wahahahahait, Gen,” he giggled, legs uselessly kicking the open air. “I thohohohohought you were dohohohohone!”

“Done bringing you down to Earth,” Gen confirmed, kissing the shell of his ear and whispering, “but not done showing you my undying adoration, Ishigami.”

Senku full-body shuddered at the name, a low groan escaping his lips even as he kept scrunching his neck and giggling at the light kisses to his neck. “Plehehehehease…”

“Hush.” Gen kissed his lips then, releasing his wrists to run his hands up his stomach to his chest, taking his shirt with them. Senku’s arms wrapped around his back and pulled him closer. He tilted his head back and soaked up every bit of his partner that Gen was willing to give.

And for Senku, Gen was willing to give his all.

[webslingingslasher]

what’s peters body count?🫣

boyfriend!frat!peter 🤭

‘what’s your body count?’

peter freezes, he’s not opposed to the previous partners talk when it comes to being safe and healthy. but the number thing… he doesn’t see how it’s useful.

‘don’t worry, i have all the clean screenings.’ he tries to swerve around the question, you won’t let him. ‘no, i get that. we’ve talked about it before. but, how many people have you hooked up with?’

peter knows the frat boy stereotype, he may have even played into it for a little while. but he doesn’t want you to see him like that, he doesn’t want you to think of him as a womanizer or pig.

‘um,’ he wants to say a different number than the one in his head, he wants to preserve what you think of him. ‘does it matter?’

you tap your fingertips over his ribcage, ‘i guess not. i’m just curious.’ peter’s tracing circles around your shoulder, ‘cool.’

you wait, it seems like he took your response as an opportunity to stay silent. something about his hesitance makes you feel icky.

‘not gonna share?’ peter thought your answer meant the conversation was over, apparently not. ‘is there a reason you’re asking?’

you pat his skin, giving him a second notice before sitting up. ‘not really, but now you’re being all coy, i want to know.’

‘yeah, but i’m your boyfriend now. it shouldn’t matter.’ your eyebrows furrow. ‘it doesn’t. but hiding it makes it matter.’

‘i’m not hiding anything.’ except he is.

‘you are. i want to know. right now.’ peter’s looking off to the side, you can see through his invisible wall, he’s embarrassed. ‘peter, i’m not gonna judge you or anything. i’m just curious.’

‘you are. you totally are and i don’t want you to see me as different. i was a different person before i met you, and who i was before shouldn’t matter now.’

you nibble on your bottom lip, ‘it’s either really low or really high based on what you’re giving me.’ peter’s silent, you’re thinking it’s on the higher side.

‘more than ten?’

more silence. ‘more than fifteen?’

you don't know how high to go. ‘twenty five?’

‘lower, but not by much.’

you stare at him. peter stares back. he’s expecting you to drop your face and turn away, call him a manwhore and spit in his face. he’s not expecting the sweeping grin that takes place.

‘is that why you’re so good in bed? hefty experience?’

‘i wouldn’t know, you’re the only one i ever put effort into.’

you bat your eyes at him, a pout takes over while you try to calm the urge of attacking him with kisses. insecurity flushes over you, ‘were they... were they all just one night stands?' there it is, that's what peter was waiting for.

your actual name is said, drawn out like you were playing a dangerous game. 'it's just that, i mean, am i enough for you?' peter feels his chest tighten, if he could, he'd take back every night he ever spent with a girl that wasn't you.

'why would you ask me that?' you feel hidden in peter's arms, they're around you and there's a kiss on your forehead. 'of course you're enough for me. you're more than enough, you always have been.'

'i don't think i can compete with that many girls and-'

'you're not. there is no competition, and there never was.' you shake your head, 'liar. you were still hooking up with other girls when we started hooking up.'

you're a little shocked by peter's rough hold, you're staring up at him with wide eyes when he talks down to you. 'is that what you think? have you always thought that?'

it's not what you think, it's what you know. 'you said-' peter cuts you off, 'i said bullshit. i talked to other girls, maybe flirted a little, but i never had sex with anyone else. trust me, i wouldn't fuck up like that.'

peter was right, there was no competition. because you won first and only place the second you stepped foot into his bedroom. 'wait, does that make me the competition? like, if we break up i'm the standard for you?'

'i mean... yeah, i kind of love you a whole lot.' this time, you don't hold back on your attack of kisses. 'i made you change your rules. i win.'

peter disagrees. 'no, i won.'