#not sure what high school dana went to but like

[shuriflurry]

Hey, welcome to the world of toh criticism! Glad to have you here. I second all of your thoughts on toh's worldbuilding, there was absolutely no effort put in there other than 'what if human world but ugly'. And you are so right about the school's placement system. Why they thought it made sense for the only courses they offer to be a kindergarten level class and an advanced class for high schoolers, with the only thing separating them being knowledge of two spells, is beyond me. I'm excited for you to get to Belos though, he does give the series that much-needed plot structure and while they do drop the ball on his story it's really only towards the end and he's easily the series' strongest (or only strong) point up until then.

Thank you! Happy to be here 😁 and yessss I am so looking forward to plot. The episodic nature of the show is driving me mad. Especially when they are blatently copying story beats from other media (I'm looking directly at the episode where Luz goes to school for the first time and most of the jokes/events are obviously taken from HP)

The school's advanced placement system is so fun to make jokes about. @monkeymindscream and I got much enjoyment out of that.

[megasceptile001]

i wanna be an animator Soooooo bad guys

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 9.2 | full chapter without breaks on AO3

content warning: more fluff, more laughs, a little bit of insecurity from Miguel and reader, underage drinking (all of the characters are aged 18-20 so by USA standards, that's underaged. but college kids will be college kids. and so will high school graduates.), a mention of an edible like once, Hobie is here! (fr this time), Pavitr too, even more jealous Miguel, 18+ so MNDI, wet wet relations, fellatio, cunnilingus, Miguel is a munch (his fantasies are unraveling finally), cum play if you squint, partially public indecency???, I think that's it

word count: 9.3k, halfway proofread (I split it really weirdly so I apologize for that lol)

Some of the links used in this part are just to give you an idea of what's going on! Enjoy! 🩵

Prev (Part 9.1) | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who texts Tyler while you’re in the shower. 

Dad…Tyler:

“She really loved it. Thank you so much for helping me out with this, Dad.”

“Any time, son! I’m glad everything went well! I can have my people send over the video form of the animation if you would like.”

“Sure, I can have it on hand.”

“And I take it, you like the yacht?”

“It’s extremely nice! Captain Barrett is pretty cool.”

“Don’t tell him you said that or it’ll go to that funny mustache.”

“Ok 😭”

“I did have a question though.”

“Ask away.”

“What did Kron do to his other boat?”

“What didn’t he do to that boat? He had too many friends on that thing all with a mix of substances I could never dream of combining. Their parents had to come drag them out lest the police get involved. I’ve never helped Kron with any event or party since then. He hasn’t earned it and he embarrassed me greatly.”

“Would you be more comfortable if we held off on the drinks?”

“See son, the difference between you and Kron is that you understand the legal ramifications of doing something so idiotic as having illegal items on a property that isn’t yours as a minor. You also have integrity and respect, something that Kron has lost sight of. I trust that neither you nor your friends will do anything too drastic.”

“Yeah, there’s no crazy stuff happening this weekend.”

“I believe it.”

“Get back to your girlfriend now. Thank you for checking up on your old man. Tell her I said hello.”

“For sure. Good night.”

“Good night!”

GymRat!Miguel who opens his arms up to you as you come out of the bathroom. You hurried to lay in his arms, skin warm from your shower. 

You snuggle up under his chin, “Today was really fun.”

“Yeah?” he rubs your head slowly. 

“Mm hm. Now, we should sleep.”

A yawn racks through Miguel’s body, the day of driving settling in his bones. 

You keep your ear on his chest. The steady tempo of his heart and his breaths lulling you to sleep. 

GymRat!Miguel who is still asleep by the time you wake up. You both ended up at opposite ends of the giant bed with just your legs intertwining. 

You look over to Miguel and watch his chest rise and fall, his snores crescendoing at each breath. 

You lay your head back on the pillow, eyes tracing the shape of his face in this morning light. The water was calm, giving the boat a slight rock. Some seagulls flew by, their sounds fading in and out. 

You scoot closer to get a better look, your hand lightly following the line of his face. 

His eyes flutter open at your touch, a brown sea welcoming you. 

“G’morning,” his voice is terribly deep like this. The timbre shoots straight to your core. 

“Morning. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper. 

Miguel moves to lay his head on your chest, taking a deep breath. “It’s fine. The sight made me feel like I went to heaven.”

He pulled you closer by the waist, “Ten more minutes?”

“Rest up all you need, bear-bear.”

GymRat!Miguel who is just as excited as Gabriel when he gets to the deck that morning. The agenda was swimming with the dolphins before everyone else got here.

Miguel and Gabriel were practically buzzing in their matching wetsuits. Dana snuck in a video laughing at the twin looks on their faces. 

GymRat!Miguel who sneaks glances at your form on the way to the dolphin center. You’re leaning over the edge of the smaller boat, the wind against your face. The wetsuit was doing wonders for the curve of your figure. 

GymRat!Miguel who ends up going into a nerd session about dolphins with Gabriel. Both of them are spitting out dolphin facts at the speed of light. 

 “I just think that if you were to be any dolphin, it’s so obvious that you would be an orca.” 

“But why, though? Because I’m big? That’s a new low, even for you, Gabri.”

“No, it’s because you’re mixed, obviously. Killer whale aka orca aka dolphin. Duh, Miguelito.”

“Don’t ‘duh’ me because that doesn’t even make sense. Orcas are still classified as dolphins even though they look like whales.”

“Just like you-”

“I’m going to smack you off the side of this boat if you finish that sentence.”

“Resulting to violence just like a killer whale, what a shame.”

“You’re so annoying. Orcas are smart, they speak different languages based on their pod, and the name was actually ‘whale killers,’ not ‘killer whales.’ That would make me an orca, but I would not be one because I would never take care of my family but abandon my children.”

“A lot of male dolphins abandon their families. A lot of them hang out with the bros and come back.”

“Female dolphins can do the hard work of carrying babies from ten to eighteen months, so enlighten me, Gabri. What are the male dolphins doing with the bros?”

Gabriel squinted his eyes and put his finger up weakly, “This is a trick question.”

“No it’s not! Don’t you know the answer?” Miguel put his hands out, as if waiting for a physical object to be presented. 

“I do know the answer, which is why I don’t want to give you the satisfaction.”

“Well, now I want to know because you two nerds wouldn’t shut up about bottlenose dolphins just five minutes ago,” Dana scoffs as she takes off her shades, the morning sun too much for her. 

“That’s not the same energy you had last night when I-”

“No one wants to hear that.”

“Shut up, Miguel,” Gabriel snaps back. “They take care of other dolphin babies. And sometimes become friends with benefits with their homies.”

Dana makes a disgusted face, “And you’re defending that? Wow. So when I have your kid you’re going to leave me and go do fuck all with Pavitr?”

“No, Dana, I would never do that! We discussed this! Miguel is going to study seahorses, make me a safe mutation, and I’ll carry them for you!”

“I don’t even study genetics so I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“So you wouldn’t carry her babies?” Gabriel gestures towards you in a panic. 

Miguel looks towards you at the front of the boat, watching the water go by. 

He thought of you as a mom, carrying his kid, holding their hand in the park, picking decor for the nursery. 

He thought of you under him, taking everything he could give you and more. You screaming his name as the bed creaks loud enough to fill the hallway. 

“I would, but that’s not the question right now.”

“Why did it take you so long to answer that?” Gabriel’s tone was high. 

“Oh my god, he was thinking of getting her pregnant,” Dana says in horror. 

“Oh, so I have to listen to your escapades, but I can’t even daydream in silence?”

GymRat!Miguel who listens intently to the staff. No harm shall come to any dolphin on his behalf.  

GymRat!Miguel who makes friends with one of the cute dolphins. Her name is Dotty because of the few spots she has on her body. 

She immediately gravitates towards Miguel. Her blowhole squeals constantly whenever Miguel talks to her. 

“Well I think Dotty is in love!” the instructor yells from across the enclosed water. 

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at Dana who keeps getting splashed on by the baby dolphins. 

GymRat!Miguel who looks so cute with his nose touching Dotty’s rostrum. They’re spinning in circles with Dotty clicking away like a cat purring. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches you interact with one of the bigger dolphins whose name is Mon. 

“Mon and Dotty are a couple, but he’s a little sad today because Dotty isn't giving him any attention,” the instructor says with a giant pout on her face. 

Even Mon’s clicks sounded sad and Miguel didn’t know how that was possible. 

Mon places his chin on your shoulder and you’re immediately in love, rubbing his body and consoling him and his broken heart. 

“It’s ok, Mon. You can hang out with me,” you say in a sweet voice. Mon’s fins squeezed you even tighter. 

A sweater, some random guys, Dana, Blake, and now a dolphin. Miguel can’t win. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches Mon click and spin happily when you feed him fish for doing a trick. 

“That was so good, Monie!” you pat his head, and he leans into your hands. 

GymRat!Miguel who thinks Dotty and Mon are a bit like you and him. They’re twirling in the water together, rubbing their bodies close. 

GymRat!Miguel who sits with you on the boat ride back, watching the dolphins race with the boat halfway to the yacht.

GymRat!Miguel whose eyebrows raise when he sees one of your friends as you guys step off the boat. 

“Hobie!” you squeal, running to hug the lanky figure. 

“My girl! How have you been, love?” he asks, a deep London accent lining his words. 

Love?

“I’m so happy you made it! How’s the apprenticeship? Any new techniques to share?”

“A lot more than techniques, if you know what I mean?” Hobie leaned on you as he snickered away. 

Miguel might pop a fuse. 

GymRat!Miguel who lingers by as you chat away with Hobie. The two of you are catching up for a while and Miguel wants to walk back to the room with you so you can help him take off this tight wetsuit. 

He’s lightly kicking at a puddle with his arms crossed when you call his name. 

“This is my boyfriend, Miguel,” you say, coming up to him and wrapping an arm around his.

“He’s a big one, innit?” Hobie says, holding his hand out. “Hobie Brown.”

Miguel shook it with a sturdy hand, “Miguel O’Hara. Nice to meet you.”

“How long have you known this firecracker for?” Hobie gestured to you with a smile.

“It’ll be a year once August hits. The best ten months of my life, honestly,” Miguel says, leaning down to kiss your temple. 

“She’s got you wrapped ‘round her finger, yeah?” Hobie smirked at the love drunk look on Miguel’s face. “Yeah, you’re a goner. That’s just how she is. One encounter and it’s hard to let go.”

Hobie went to pick up his one backpack, a master at light travel from how much he’s moving. 

“Don’t let me stop yous two from partying. See ya in an hour, love,” Hobie said walking away. 

You look up at Miguel, “The best ten months?”

“Yep. Love?”

“It’s a British thing. He’s friendly!”

“Hm.”

“And definitely demisexual.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re very territorial.”

“For good reason.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes it to the boardwalk after he’s changed to greet their friends and guide them to the yacht. 

There’s a lot of you, especially from Gabriel and Dana’s graduating class. Miguel greets everyone warmly. 

It feels good to unite his old friends and newer friends together.

GymRat!Miguel who makes a plan to be the best at every activity on the agenda today. Yeah, he wanted to have fun, but for some reason, he felt like he had something to prove.

He walks back out to the top deck to see Hobie laying out on the flat slats under the shade. His arms are crossed and his shades are hiding his full expression. 

From here, Miguel can hear Blake chatting it up with some of the girls that are hanging out near the on-deck pool. He looks over the edge and sees him grinning from ear to ear as the girls giggle. He clicks his teeth at the scene. 

“Big Migs, c’mere for a sec, will ya?” Hobie said.

“He’s a bit chatty, that one. An overachiever if I’ve ever seen it.”

On second thought, Miguel might like Hobie a lot.

“All morning, he’s been spitting nothing but rubbish. Going on and on about the boat and the city and his socials. Nothing of substance, just straight air.”

Miguel snickered, “It feels like that’s all he’s got going for himself. His daddy’s boat, his daddy’s money, and his face.”

Miguel recounts the events from last afternoon. How he lacked respect for not only him but for you and your personal space. 

“Not gonna lie, I’d smash his head in,” Hobie replied calmly.

Miguel let out a hearty laugh, “I wanted to and honestly, I could, but there are several circumstances stopping me. Such as the fact that we’re on his dad’s property.”

“But deep it, when’s the next time you’ll need to be on this thing?”

Miguel is about to respond in agreement when you round the corner from the stairs. 

“There you two are!”

You smile at the two of them, “Are you guys getting along? Has Hobie convinced you to join him on some scheme across the country?”

Miguel took a deep breath before responding. He knew what outfits you brought with you, a lot of them matched his own, but it was still like new whenever you put them on. 

He didn’t have enough time in the world to cherish your beauty. 

“They’re not schemes, baby, they’re elaborate plans,” Miguel responds.

“Man like, Migs!” Hobie hops up and drags his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. 

You shake your head with a warm smile on your face, laughing at Hobie’s antics.

“And you look stunning. Though, I’m not too sure if it’s fit for hoverboarding.”

“That’s because I’m jet skiing and shaking ass, Hobie. You guys can have fun flipping in the air.”

“Right on, then. Migs and I have important business to attend to.”

Miguel nods, “Extremely important.”

You eyed them both, “Uh huh.” They left in a controlled frenzy, Hobie pulling his wicks up with a giant band and Miguel cracking his neck.

You didn’t even want to know. 

GymRat!Miguel who is a bit peeved that Blake has to give the water hoverboard demonstration. He’s staying up there longer than necessary, grabbing girls to balance them in the middle of his board while he flips them around.

You’re standing next to Miguel during it all, waiting for Miguel’s turn so you can get a video.

“Hey!” Blake yells out in your direction. “Wanna take it for a spin?”

You shake your head and yell back, “No, I’m good!”

“Just three minutes! Don’t be scared! I won’t drop you.”

“No thanks,” you bite back, voice irritated. 

Blake smiles with a hand on his hip, ready to convince you, when Hobie pipes up, “The lady said no. Can we move on?”

Blake’s face cracked a bit as he told one of the crew members to kill the power in the waterboard. 

“What is up with him?” you mumble to yourself. 

“I think he likes you,” Pavitr remarked. “He wouldn’t stop asking Gabriel questions about you.”

“He’s really pushing it,” Miguel scoffed. Not only was he being overly flirty to every girl on board, he was adamant about getting your attention. “No wonder he gets along with Kron.”

You sported a twisted lip as you watched him strap up one of Gabriel’s friends. “I don’t know. Even if I was single, he’s a bit too…tiny. Communal.”

The laugh that left Miguel wiped the scowl right off of his face.

GymRat!Miguel who gets the hang of the hoverboard after one try. You’re recording him with a big smile on your face as he tries to spell “love” in the air. 

GymRat!Miguel who dies laughing at Gabriel’s horrible attempts at staying in the air. His body keeps shaking like a baby deer and he’s steady yelling in garbled Spanish. 

By the time his turn is over, Miguel is laid out on the boardwalk with tears down his face.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Miguel,” Gabriel cries out.

Miguel just rolls and laughs some more. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches you expertly drive a jet ski from the edge of the yacht. You’re shouting with one arm in the air as you race Dana and some of her friends. 

Miguel leans his head on his hand as he watches you zoom across the ocean. Your skin is glowing, your smile is sparkling, and your laugh is bright. 

GymRat!Miguel whose bubble of thoughts involving you, him, the water, some fruit, and a floatie is popped when Blake’s voice pierces through. 

“She’s pretty good at that.”

“Yep.” Maybe if Miguel ignored him enough, he’d go away.

“Looks like a dream, too.”

“Are you dumb or something?” Miguel turns his body, gripping the rail to not get in Blake’s face, but extending his height to cower over him.

“Woah,” Blake holds his hands up. “It was a compliment, dude, chill out. You’re not mad at me for finding her beautiful, are you?”

“That’s not what the fuck you’re doing and you know it.”

Blake makes a confused face, laughing off Miguel’s statement, “Kron said you guys were open.”

“Does it look like we’re fucking open?”

“Well, at first-”

“Keep talking and you’ll end up just like him. Knocked out. Do you want that?” Miguel edged closer to him. “Huh?”

Blake bristles, ready to defend himself when his head is knocked to the side. 

He looks next to him to see a gaggle of girls all with waterballoons and nerf guns. They yell at him to come on and pick a side. 

Blake scrambles to join them.

Miguel is about to follow when Hobie sweeps in front of him, “Cool it.”

GymRat!Miguel who almost takes an edible from Hobie but decides against it. 

“The offer is open all weekend.”

“Noted.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets roped into playing some games to start off the night, one of which is Never Have I Ever with shots. 

It started off innocently with things like peeing in a pool and cheating on a test to which everyone looked in shock at Miguel when he put a finger down. 

“I’m smart but if there’s a group effort to get the right answers, I’m not going to say no.”

Then it went left field and personal with things like threesomes, drunkenly fighting with others, and streaking. 

“Never have I ever…received head from a partner!”

A few of the guys put a finger down, groaning out and snickering as they had to take another shot. 

Miguel was trying not to dwell on how many experiences he lacked compared to the group, a lot of them younger than him. 

He rubbed his tongue across his teeth. He didn’t want to show his irritation on his face. 

Looking across the circle, he could see Gabriel’s eyes get wide, staring off beside you. 

Miguel followed his line of sight landing on you with a finger down and a shot in your hand. 

What the fuck. 

Who the fuck beat him to it? Where the fuck did it happen? When the fuck did it happen? How the fuck did he not know?

He’s ready for the game to be over. 

“Miguel is putting in work!” one guy pushes his elbow against Miguel’s side, laughing and patting his shoulders. 

Well, if people think he did it, it’s not so bad. 

“Oh my god, girl, how was it?” Dana’s friend asked you. 

Miguel tried his best not to scream bloody murder. 

“It was,” you pause, looking up to ponder. “It was something! Not particularly fun or good. My ex wasn’t the best at listening so he just poked at me. I faked everything that night.”

Miguel smirked. There were no big shoes to fill because they were never taken out of the box. Or even out of the store. 

“That sucks. I bet he thought you were in heaven.”

You laugh with the girls, joking in a way similar to the women that flooded Miguel’s for-you page. 

Miguel stepped away to get a breather. If he stayed any longer, he might do something drastic. 

GymRat!Miguel who is leaning on the boat when Gabriel comes to check up on him. 

“You ok, Miguelito?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. A little overwhelmed so I need to reset,” Miguel wrung his wrists while he let the sea breeze cool him down. 

“Is it the game? Don’t feel so bad,” Gabriel leans closer to Miguel and speaks in a stage whisper. “Some of them are a little too fast for their own good.”

Miguel snickered. Gabriel was definitely tipsy. 

“Thanks, Gabri.”

“Anytime. Don’t let them bring you down. You’re my perfect Miguelito. My pure baby!” Gabriel kissed him on the cheek.

“Ugh,” Miguel laughed and wiped at his wet cheek.

“Don’t wipe away at my love, broski.”

GymRat!Miguel who is guided by you in a dance. You’re a little tipsy and giggly, holding onto him as you dance to the music. 

Miguel just holds onto your hips and smiles with you. 

GymRat!Miguel who is locked in on your body as you grind against him. You’re arching your back and looking at him with a sparkle in your eye and Miguel feels like a wild animal.

When you lean back against him, he whispers in your ear about a private party just for the two of you. You bite your lip and turn to look at him. His eyes are tracing your lips and his hands are groping you. 

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at you as you wish everyone a good night quickly.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning!” you shout to your friends as you pull Miguel behind you to the room.

GymRat!Miguel who waits for you on the bed while you use the bathroom. 

He’s excited for an intimate night with just you. Parties were fun but it really couldn’t beat the serenity of smaller groups. It especially couldn’t beat talking all night with you. 

Everyone else was chilling out in other parts of the yacht, back in their hotel rooms, or night paddle boarding. 

You’re in the bathroom staring at the thin fabric in your hand. 

Miguel told you that there was a pool involved. 

You bought a micro bikini during a surge of confidence. It looked so cute on the model and you wanted to feel the same way. 

Now you’re standing in the bathroom freaking out, worried to death over the flimsy material. You were excited about Miguel seeing it, but you couldn’t shake your own nerves about how everything would play out. 

A knock at the door makes you jump.

You crack the door and peer up at Miguel. 

“You ok in there?” he asked, eyebrows pinched. 

“Yeah, I’m ok! I’ll be out in just a sec!”

You bite the bullet and place the bikini on. 

You didn’t account for your areolas to poke out beyond the triangles. You bit your lip as you turned to check out your backside.

At least your ass looked great. 

In a nervous motion, you pull your coverup over you and pull your hair up so that it doesn’t get too ruined by the water. It was now or never. 

GymRat!Miguel who holds your hand as he guides you to the private area. You’re squeezing his hand so tight. 

One of the stewardesses smiles as she sees you two coming. She stands next to a rope cutting off the area. 

“Good evening to you both! I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay so far,” her voice is polite and even. “Tonight, it’ll be just you two enjoying the Galaxy. If you need anything, just press the call button on the wall and I’ll be right down.”

She unlatches the rope and holds her arm out in the direction of the stairs.

You both slowly descend, careful not to slip on the trippy-looking wood. 

Taking a step into the room, Miguel stares in awe at the glowing pool. 

There’s petals fluttering about, small fairy lights surround the corners to add extra light. Looking up, you both can see the night sky with the stars adorning it. 

“This is beautiful,” you say, the lights surrounding you glittering in your eyes. 

You were staring at the stars and the lights but Miguel couldn’t help but to think that you were the most beautiful part of the room. 

He said this much to you, watching as you bent your head down hiding the smile on your face. Miguel lifted it back up and kissed you under the light of the stars. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah, let me just go take this off.” 

You walk towards a chair with folded towels placed on it. 

“Miguel, these have our names on them!” you say with shock, running your fingers over the embroidered letters. Hearts surrounded the names and you felt fuzzy from the implication of the stewardess preparing this. 

“Yeah, I heard it was a part of the couple’s bundle,” he shouts from the pool. It wasn’t really a part of the bundle, but Miguel suggested it way before the trip. 

His back was turned to you, trying to set up a speaker by the pool. 

The moment was perfect, so you opened a champagne bottle and poured two glasses. You took a huge gulp of one and removed your slip. 

GymRat!Miguel who hears you entering the water, so he hurries to pick out a song. 

The mood needs to be right. 

He turns to you and nearly drowns at the sight. (Art is not affiliated with this fic, but I couldn't find any plus-size women in real life on Pinterest with this type of bikini! Please give this artist some love, I love their art!)

You’re coming down the stairs with two glasses in your hand and your skin on full display. The strings are digging tight into your skin and your breasts are practically spilling out from every side. 

Miguel is stunned.

“Come grab your drink, Miguel,” your voice is like butter in his ears. 

His eyes don’t leave you as he swims across the pool. The only sounds that could be heard are the water moving around him and the music playing. When he gets closer, he stands up, water dripping down his body. He’s breathing hard and is laser-focused on your frame. 

You feel an array of emotions. You feel like running, jumping, maybe hiding. His gaze is too heavy and he hasn’t spoken a word yet. 

You don’t know how long you two stare at each other before Miguel breaks the tension, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He takes the glasses from your hand with one hand and picks you up in the other. You cling to him as he goes to the edge of the pool, places one glass down and chugs the other. 

In a flash, you’re sitting on the edge and he’s holding his body out of the water in order to kiss you. 

He pushes your mouth open, pulling at your lip with his teeth. He was desperate, wanting more. 

Your hands find your way to his hair, the tips wet from his swim. You card your fingers through his locks, opening your mouth wider as Miguel groans onto your tongue. 

He can’t stop, body moving forward the deeper the kisses get. Your legs open wider and your hands fall down Miguel’s back. You go lower than usual, pushing your hands under his swimsuit, fingertips grazing over the skin of his ass. 

Miguel parts, spit-ridden mouth red and messy. 

“You’re making this so hard for me,” he says against your lips. You’re both panting into each other’s mouths. 

Your body feels like jelly. The way that he’s looking at you fills you with desire, “Making what hard?” You’re quivering and clenching as his eyes seem to get darker. 

“Baby,” Miguel kisses the corner of your lips then your jaw. He moves to where your jaw and neck connect, licking  “Amor. I can’t.”

You move your head, encouraging him to continue, “You can if you want to.”

“No, I’m supposed to take this slow,” his mouth moved to your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you squeezed your thighs around him. “I need to take this slow.”

He gets to your breasts, pressing your nipples through the material and watching as your areolas poked out more. “Mierda.”

You try to talk as Miguel takes one breast into his mouth, “It’s ok to want more. I want, ugh, I want you to take more.” He pulls at your nipple, watching as it rises more through the fabric. His thumb traces it, causing you to twitch in his hold. 

He continues to rub over the fabric as he kisses down your stomach. The string is wrapping around your stomach like a gift just for him. 

“Tomorrow, baby,” he says into your skin. “I’ll take more tomorrow.”

He needed to stop before he broke the promise he made to himself. 

He hears you whine as he gets eerily close to your sex before jerking his body straight. 

“Why?” you sound so needy and broken. 

“Because,” he kisses your pout away. “Tomorrow, I’m going to take all I need. You just need to trust me. Please.”

You nod your head, heart pounding with his words. 

GymRat!Miguel who lets you persuade him into swapping places. All it took was a few blinks of your eyes and Miguel was swooning.

“I saw you walk away during the game today. I wanted to make sure that the next time you play, you’re able to put a finger down.”

That’s what you told him with a sweet smile on your face.

Now you’re rubbing up his thighs and Miguel is about to pass out from the view of you peering up at him. Your eyes were foggy and the slope of your neck to your chest was glistening. From this angle, Miguel could see the curve of your ass with the bikini barely covering it.

You run your hands down his chest, fingers dancing along the slopes and planes, leaving a wet trail in your wake. Miguel’s stomach tightens as you make it below his belly button, the sensation of your fingertips across his happy trail building a fury in his core.

You kiss him through his swimsuit causing him to jump.

You hold his thighs and tilt your head to lean on one, “Are you nervous, Miggy?” Your knuckles rake against his groin, lingering in spots that made his inner thighs clench the most.

“I,” Miguel is trembling like a leaf. He can barely get the words out from how much energy he's using to hold himself up. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” You lift your body from the water a little, pressing your tits closer to his clothed sex. “Baby, I need you to know. I can’t go further without your permission.”

Miguel feels like he could cum right now.

“I’m really nervous, but I want to experience this.”

You hum as you start to pull at his waistband. His eyes scrunch closed as his dick springs up. 

You’re met with a sight you had missed. The size is still as intimidating as the last time. 

You rub his thighs and give yourself a quiet pep talk. You were determined to make your boyfriend feel good. 

Miguel looks back down at you and swallows dryly, anxious at the look in your eyes and your silence, “If it’s too much, w-we can stop here-”

“No.”

The first lick of his tip has Miguel rising off of the pool edge, pre-cum escaping him.

He whines, embarrassed at his lack of control, but his dick is twitching from the sensation.

“Miguel,” your hands are back on his hips at a flimsy attempt to hold him down. “You need to be careful, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby right now.” Miguel’s voice is winded like he’s been running a marathon.

You look up at him. His mouth is twisted up and his eyebrows are furrowed. His stomach keeps shaking and his elbows don’t know if they want to bend or extend. When he looks down at you, he lets out a whimper, dick jerking against his will.

You hold your lips right above the head, the heat of it making you excited, “Baby.”

Miguel jerks again as you take his tip into your mouth, more of his pre-cum slipping out. His body is wound tight and he’s losing sense of it. Your mouth is so warm and he’s crying out from just you suckling along the head. He would be grateful with just this alone.

You push yourself lower, mouth adjusting to the widening girth. You don’t know if it’s the champagne combined with the other drinks you’ve had today, but the taste is making your mind fuzzy. 

You hum as you move your tongue along the underside of his length, his essence melting into your mouth. Miguel continues to twitch against your lips. 

You look up and he just groans when his eyes connect with yours. 

“P-pretty,” he stutters out, brain-to-mouth filter completely disintegrating. One of his arms covers his mouth as he fights to quiet down. There’s no telling what the stewardess could hear from above. 

You decided to go deeper, wanting to hear him some more. You make it halfway down before you grip his shaft and give it a few semi-dry pumps. 

Miguel just about shouts at the sensation, legs jerking enough to splash the water around you. 

Satisfied with the reaction, you release him with a pop and slide your tongue down to the base, trying to get him as wet as possible for what you’re about to attempt to do. You pucker your lips to leave wet kisses all over his shaft, sucking occasionally. 

All Miguel can do is whimper and shake. 

You hold him, sliding your hand up and down, applying pressure whenever you glide over the top, “You can hold on to me.”

Miguel shakes his head and releases his bottom lip from his teeth to speak, but his words are jumbled up in a heated mess. 

“Say it again, Miguel. I don’t understand,” you bring your mouth to the head again, this time, cupping his balls as you slide back down. 

Early spurts of cum land in your mouth as Miguel uselessly grips at the flat ground. He’s moaning out your name and if you weren’t sliding him down your throat, you would think he’s crying for you. 

“I-I don’t wanna hurt you,” Miguel takes heavy breaths in the middle of his sentence. 

Even like this he was oh so sweet. You don’t push it and continue on. 

As you reach the hilt, you force yourself to relax, thumb pressed against your fisted palm. He was heavy on your tongue and you needed to find the right pace. 

You slowly move your head up and down, lips wet with spit and slick. You build a steady tempo that has Miguel involuntarily moving his hips and moaning in a senseless manner. 

He was conflicted, core heated at the sound of your throat barely taking him, but wanting to pull you off so you don’t choke all because of him. Hot tears ran down his face as you didn’t let up. 

He chooses the latter, foggy mind coming to a decision. His shaky hands reach towards your face, your cheeks hallowed and eyes closed. His hands make it to your cheeks when you reach the hilt again and swallow around his head. 

Miguel scares himself with the moan he lets out. 

You panic as you swallow his load, mouth completely full. 

Miguel hurries to pull you off, “Shit! Baby, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s ok,” you cough as you try to catch your breath. Drips of him that you didn’t swallow falling to your chest. “I wish you would have told me you were about cum, though.”

“I didn’t know!” he’s red in the face. “God, I’m so sorry!”

“Was it good, though?” You look up at him with lips and sparkling eyes. You’re holding your tits up so that his cum wouldn’t get in the pool. 

Miguel’s dick twitches like it’s trying to wake back up again. You notice it and a grin plants itself right onto your face. 

“Do you really have to ask me that?”

“Yes, Miggy.”

“I think my embarrassing finish was enough but yes, you made me feel good. It was way more than good. Now come out of the pool before you get any more ideas.”

“It wasn’t embarrassing!” you reply as Miguel picks you up from the water and on his stomach while lays back. “‘Was kinda hot. You felt so good that you couldn’t wait.”

You slide your finger over your cleavage to pick up the leftover essence and plop right in your mouth. 

Miguel grips your thighs as he looks up at you, “No, stop that, you vixen.”

You’re going to be the death of him for sure. 

GymRat!Miguel whose legs are like jelly when you help him up from the ground. His thighs haven’t shaken this much since his first leg day almost five years ago. 

“Do you need to lie down on the beach chair for a minute?” you ask with genuine concern. 

“Yeah, I think I need a second,” Miguel says, trying his best not to put his entire weight onto you. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches you watch him from the pool. You’re at the edge, leaning over and smiling at him while you let your body float. 

“Next time, I want to get, like, really hoarse. We should work on your resistance and my tolerance. Oh! And maybe we can do that thing where I hold your-”

“Amor, please. Let’s talk about this when I’m not halfway dying,” Miguel groans, dick half hard. “How are you so good at this anyway?”

“Practice! With my ex and like one other fling. They weren’t nearly as responsive as you, though.”

Miguel squints at your figure. 

“Or fun. Or satisfying. Or tasty. Or big. Can I do it one more time, Miggy?”

Miguel stares at you for a minute or two then groans, “Come on.”

You leave the water and walk over to him with glee. 

GymRat!Miguel who grabs lightly onto your head this time, fingers twitching occasionally. His legs are parted and you’re laid out on the horizontal part of the beach chair. Miguel is constantly looking from your face to your ass, experiencing a sensation overload. You take it easy on him this time, saving some of your tricks and things you wanted to try for a later date. 

The room is filled once again with Miguel’s grunts and whimpers plus your mouth and throat molding unto him. 

GymRat!Miguel who warns you this time. You let go with a pop and let him paint your open mouth. He shudders as you look at him through it all, pumping him slowly until he can't take anymore. A lonely tear escaped him, eyes heavy and chest heaving. 

GymRat!Miguel who barely makes it back up the stairs. He gives the stewardess a polite smile but you can barely look at her for longer than a second. 

“It was really lovely,” you say leaning into Miguel’s side, voice a little gone. 

“Yeah, amazing,” Miguel snickers. You nudge him at the back of his leg causing him to stagger a bit. 

The stewardess just laughs and wishes you both a good night. 

GymRat!Miguel who sleeps like a log that night. His soul needed to rejuvenate. 

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up a new man. He feels like he can conquer the world. As of now, the world is a new set of water activities with their friends. 

He kisses you on the cheek in your sleeping state makes his way out to the deck, wanting to do some morning stretches and yoga if he could fit it in. 

He walked out to see Dana talking to Blake, an indifferent look on her face.

“I just can’t believe he would lie to me like that, you know? Like that’s fucked up. Here I was, ready to get something and he set me up.” 

“Yeah, no. That really sucks,” Dana replies with a big yawn.

“I mean, I thought we were bros. I thought-”

“Miguel! My knight in shining armor,” Dana practically screams when she spots Miguel.

Blake tenses up so that if he mimics a timid raccoon. 

“Morning,” Miguel walks up to them.

Blake breaks out into a sweat, “Hey man, I’m sorry about last night. I would have never done that stuff if I knew. I don’t know why Kron told me you guys were open.”

“I think you need some new friends and better social cues,” Miguel brushed Blake off and walked with Dana onto the boardwalk. 

“Thank god you got here. That was his fourth iteration of ‘bro code should be respected.’ I was going to start screaming if he kept talking.”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Dana guide him in a mini yoga class on the beach. It’s pretty nice with the waves crashing and the birds squawking occasionally.

GymRat!Miguel whose downward dog pose is almost disrupted by you whistling from a spot in the sand. 

You and Gabriel had snuck up on Miguel and Dana, cackling like hyenas.

“Baby, I think you can go deeper,” you shout over the waves, encouraging Miguel to stretch.

“Gross,” Gabriel shudders. 

GymRat!Miguel who wants to use you for a flying pose but you refuse. 

“I’m not walking back with sand up my back.”

“Can we try it later, though?” Miguel pouted. 

“On safe carpet, yes.”

GymRat!Miguel who settles for a forward fold with you. You stretch your body across his back as he reaches down to touch his toes. 

It’s nice until you both switch positions. 

“I think I’m dying,” you gasp out. You sound like an old man on his last breath. 

“No, you’re not. You just need more practice,” Miguel chides from above. 

“When will I ever need this pose in life?”

“Flexibility is good for you!” Miguel replies after a while. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

GymRat!Miguel who tilts his head at your breakfast plate piled with pineapples. 

“You don’t want an omelet?”

“Maybe later.”

GymRat!Miguel who joined any group activity he could. 

From the inflatable water obstacle course,  

which Gabriel cheated on by the way,

To the boat tour, he got so many pictures for you for his rotating home screen,

To the banana boat rides that he almost lost his life on. It took you, Gabriel, and Dana to hold onto him. 

GymRat!Miguel who surprises you with a “rooftop” dinner on the horizon on the highest part of the yacht. You’re wearing that same green dress that made him go crazy in the dressing room. 

“This is so gorgeous, Miguel,” you sigh as you take in the small scene. 

From up here, you could see the breathtaking view of the ocean and the city. The sun was close to setting, people were out and about, and the group was partaking in last-minute activities like parasailing and water walking with bubble balls but you could only focus on the glow around Miguel. 

“Did you enjoy this weekend?”

You nod your head, shy with attention, “I really did. I had so much fun.”

“Even with boys that don’t understand the word ‘no’?”

“When I have my strong boyfriend there to defend me, what is there to be afraid of?” you smile at him. 

Miguel sits up straighter at that, chest puffing out.

You laugh at his state, “Seriously, though. This was one of the best summers ever. I’m really glad Mr. Stone arranged this and I’m even more glad that you brought me along.”

“Of course I did. You’re my girl. Mi amor, mi luz,” Miguel reached out to run your hand. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

Like a flower unfurled, your heart took in his words. You leaned across the table until you could brush your lips with his, only the sun peeking through the two of you. 

You let go and lean back a little. “I’m not letting go of you either. I want you by my side,” you say, eyes panning back and forth between his.

“And that’s where I’ll stay.”

GymRat!Miguel who covers your eyes on the way back to the room.

You’re whining because you don’t have nearly as much planned for him as he always does for you. 

“Amor, you could just text me an emoji and I would be happy. You deserve good things. Don’t worry about me.”

GymRat!Miguel who wraps his arm around you as you open your eyes to the room. 

It’s lit with soft lights, decorated lightly with rose petals in the shape of a heart on the ground, and a banner full of pictures with the two of you. Pictures from outside of lab, pictures of you with oil paint on your face, pictures of him piled with notes in the study lab. 

Pictures of you both on your early dates, pictures of you looking at him in the car, pictures where he’s kissing your face off. 

You gasp at the scene, feet stuck in the entryway.

“Surprise,” Miguel says into your ear, kissing the top of it.

“I don’t think I have any tears left,” your voice is watery enough to dispute that lie.

GymRat!Miguel who kisses you deeply in the middle of the rose heart. You’re cradling his face with one hand and rubbing your thumb across his sideburn with another.

You’re so wrapped up in his arms and his presence that you miss his question.

“Can you do what?”

Miguel’s hands find their way to your ass, pulling you even closer, “Can I please eat you out?”

When you stare at him with your eyebrows raised, it only pushes him to continue.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I’ve dreamed about it, researched how to do it, studied it, daydreamed about it. I need to do it before I go crazy.”

He bent down to get on his knees, hands never letting go of your body.

“Please, baby. If you’ll allow me, I really want to make you feel good.”

At first, all you could think was that Dana was right and definitely a girl’s girl. Then, you looked down at Miguel whose head was pressed up against your torso, eyes pleading with you. 

You ran your hand through his hair, “You need to do it?”

“Uh huh,” he nodded, nuzzling into your body through your dress. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fake my reactions for you.” You didn’t have the heart to lie to him like that, especially when he’s looking at you like that. 

“You won’t have to,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “I’m confident, but if something is weird, stop me immediately.”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t give you time to think when you whisper out an “ok.” He’s picking you up by the legs and plopping you on the bed.

Like a switch, he’s kissing down your body, pulling at the stretchy green fabric to expose your skin. He’s crowding your space in the most desired way possible, a fire building within him.

“Miguel, the dress isn’t going to come off like that,” you say, internally laughing at Miguel tugging to no avail. 

He starts to pull so hard that you can hear threads ripping. Before you can stop him, there’s a makeshift slit up your thigh. 

You lean up on your elbows and give Miguel a look. He just stares sheepishly and lets you stand up to pull the dress off. 

“You gotta be more patient baby,” you purred, bending down to kiss his lips. 

When you lean back, you move backwards to sit on the bed. It’s just you, your black panties, and a hungry Miguel at your feet.

The further you inch up the bed, the more Miguel crawls to be closer to you. 

“Can I kiss you?” he breathes into your mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

“Please.”

Miguel melts into your skin, mouth molding to a familiar shape. His breaths are heavy and sporadic, too excited to finally know what you feel like on his tongue.

You reach to pull his shirt off, wanting to feel his chest against yours, wanting to feel the expanse of his back while he pressed up against you. Miguel follows your movements without letting up.

He sighed into your lips with pleasure as he let his hand flow down your body, grabbing a breast to massage. You hummed into his mouth, legs parting to bring him closer. Eager to please, Miguel slipped his shorts below his bulged, grinding against you.

You start to wrap your legs around his waist before Miguel interrupts you with a sturdy hand under your knee, and a promise to devour you to your neck.

GymRat!Miguel who groans when he slides your panties down your legs. The slope of your thick thighs to your ass has Miguel ready to burst. 

He gets on his knees to maneuver your legs up into your arms. You peek up at him over your knees, your wet cunt kissing the air. 

He licks his lips at the sight, taking a tentative touch at your wet lips. 

You jump at the sensation, the feeling of Miguel seeing you this vulnerable new. 

He bends down to kiss them, hands on the back of your thighs for extra support. Your core flutters as he takes a few more kisses to your sex, tongue reaching out to trace from the bottom to the top. At the first taste, Miguel is groaning into you, sending vibrations through your body. 

You sigh out in bliss as your grip loosens on your legs. Miguel flattens his body on the bed and spreads your legs wide, tongue continuing to savor the taste of you. 

At this angle, Miguel pushes his tongue in between your folds, feeling your warmth around him. He laps at your entrance slowly causing you to flutter around him and reach for his hair.

He slurps up the juices that try to escape him causing you to moan out his name. He just hums in response, breaching further inside. The more noises he makes, the wetter you get. The room is full of the sound of him lapping everything he gave you and your quiet moans.

“Miguel,” your breath hitched as he swiped over a particular spot. You look down at Miguel whose eyes are closed and hands are tight on your thighs. You feel a building heat seeing how much of a trance he’s in. 

Just when you feel a bud sprouting within you, he directs his attention towards your clit, searching until he finds it. At the first skim across it, your hips are bucking up off the bed. Miguel is quick to hold you down, placing his weight on your thighs and lapping continuously at the pearl. 

“Fuck!” you shout, hitting the mattress. You’re writhing beneath him, unable to control your body. “Don’t stop, Miguel, please.”

Miguel groans through it all, lapping up every drop. 

“Baby, I’m gonna-” a scream pushes through you as your body shakes with pleasure. Miguel takes it like a champ, slurping like you were his last meal.

As you twitch with aftershocks, Miguel barely gives you time to recover before he’s diving back into your entrance. You let out a sob, still sensitive and quivering as your legs move too close before Miguel growls and wraps his arms around your thighs to keep them open. 

He’s sinking into you, moving his tongue at a steady pace and sucking in between. Your moans were a pool of words from his name to begging to profanities crescendoing across the air.

Miguel would rarely part for air, adamant on bringing you to the hilt again. Your thighs were tensing up as Miguel kept going, fire building as you grabbed his hair and jerked your hips in time with his movements. 

Your climax comes in waves, your hands tighter in his hair and an arch in your back. When you clench over his tongue and your release hits his mouth, Miguel’s eyes start to roll and he’s rubbing his nose against your clit. You yell even louder as Miguel pushes his face incredibly deep into your pussy. He’s rutting into the bed at the sound of your voice, moaning with you. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The captain swore that the VIP suite was soundproof, but your voice was practically carrying across the yacht. 

“She’s getting it good! Just like I promised,” Dana smiles to herself. 

“What did you promise? I was the one that gave Miguel tips.” Gabriel moved his headphones aside. 

“Oh yeah? And what tips did you give him?” She had her eyebrow raised and a silly smirk on her face. 

There was a pause of silence between them, only your voice filling up the space occasionally. Gabriel stared at Dana with a goofy grin.

He reached over and connected his phone to his speaker, putting on his special playlist. “Want to find out?”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

GymRat!Miguel who has to be pulled off your sex with both of your hands. His eyes are glazed over and his chin is soaked. Every chance you came after the first two times, your body would move up the bed and Miguel was sure to follow. 

“Ok, ok, baby,” you heave. Your legs are spasming, a result of the position and Miguel’s willingness to have you cum over and over again.

You were tapping out, body sore and tired. 

Miguel left a final long kiss to your clit, a trail of essence following his lips. He kissed up one of your thighs with a hungry look still in his eyes.

“¿Lo hice bien, cariño?” (Did I do it well, baby/darling?)

You trembled at his touch, limbs still heavy and mind in the clouds. 

Still, this was the best you’ve felt in a while.

You open your mouth to whisper, “Lo hiciste muy bien.” (You did so good.)

GymRat!Miguel who has to calm down internally at your answer. You don’t talk to him in Spanish often, but when you do, he’s over the moon. 

GymRat!Miguel who carries you to the bathroom to clean you off.

“Baby, I can’t walk. You’ll have to carry me for the rest of your life.”

“I’m totally fine with that.”

GymRat!Miguel who shocks you when he says that you don’t need to worry about bringing him relief. 

“Amor, I came when you came. After that, it was really all about you.”

“Oh!”

GymRat!Miguel who pats his past self on the back for asking the crew for extra sheets. He had no clue how the evening would go, but something in him told him to be overprepared. 

Those old sheets were beyond ruined. 

GymRat!Miguel who rubs your legs and stomach with aloe vera lotion after the shower. Not only did he stretch you a little further than you’re used to, but his bite marks left a big impression. 

GymRat!Miguel who cuddles you to sleep. If you wore him out the other night, he definitely put you through the ringer. You were gone after three rubs to your back. 

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up early with you to send off all of your friends. You’re yawning constantly, tears sticking to the corners of your eyes.

“Someone had a time last night,” Hobie snickers as he walks past with his backpack. 

“Shut up, Hobie,” you say, already flustered. 

“What? It’s true! If I didn’t know Migs' name before, I sure do now.”

“I’m going to backflip off of this boat.”

GymRat!Miguel who grants Captain Barrett a goodbye, thanking him for letting them use his boat.

“It was a pleasure to host you, Miguel. If you and your girlfriend ever need to, my superyacht is available for any future formal events!” he elbows Miguel with a giant grin, curled mustache moving like it was paid to do so. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Cap.”

For Miguel, the man with the plan, he would grant Mission A: Eat You Out, a huge success and the start of the summer one to remember.

divider by: @iwonbin 🩵

Part 9.1 here!

a/n: And with that, the yacht chapter is finished! I hope you guys enjoyed it and got your life. 🤭 It was both challenging and rewarding to write this GIANT chapter. I hope that you guys have fun with it like I did! I have no idea how the next chapter OR Miguel's Mission B: Virgin No More plan will go, but!!! Hopefully, it will be pleasant regardless! 🤠

ALSO! I have decided to give this drabble that's basically a fic a proper name (mostly for AO3). Do you all have any suggestions?

As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵

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[faghubby]

Growing

I came home for Thanksgiving from college I had only been away a few months but I missed home. After the first night with mom and Dad. I met up with some of my friends.

I met up with Josh who was now hanging out with Devan. Josh and I went way back to grade school together. Devan was the star Basketball player I only knew by reputation. But Josh had some edibles and we all got pretty high hanging out in the old baseball field. A few other people showed up and added some drinking to the mix. At one point I was sitting in the dugout when Devan came over and sat next to me. He was really close. Like I could feel his body heat.

"So do anything crazy at school he asked me" I was pretty gone. And mumbled an answer. "Dana is has a great ass" he stated.

"She sure does, I love to get with her" I said. As I did I felt Devan's large hand slide over my crotch.

"What are you doing" I said startled. He pushed his finger to my lips and without a word shoved his hand down my pants. It was dark and no one could see. The drugs, alcohol or just stunned I didn't move as he gave me a handjob. As I came in my pants he just smiled and walked away. Later on the way home with Josh,

"So what's Devan's story?" I asked. I was straight and had never had a man touch me it just seemed so wierd.

"What do you mean?" Josh shot back nervously.

"Nothin, just how you to start hanging out" I asked

"He likes knows all the girls" Josh answered like that was an answer. "Rumor has it because he has a big dick"

"Yeah, that's what they say about all black guys" I said dismissing him.

It was a few days later. I was over at Lisa's house she was having a little party. Just about 10 of us. When I got up to use the bathroom Devan came up behind me pushing me in he quickly closed the door. He was a foot taller then me and much stronger. He pushed me against the wall and kissed me. His tounge forcing it's way into my mouth. His hand cupped my ass. I was powerless. I was shaking so scared. I felt his cock pressing against my leg. God was that all cock. I thought to myself. He unbuckled my pants his tounge still in my mouth. I still had to pee as he stroked my now hard dick. I started to kiss him back as he did. He used his other hand to guide me to his bulge. Curiosity got the best of me and I felt hos cock running my hand over it.

"I knew you like it" he whispered finally breaking the kiss. He again made me cum this time I shot my load on the bathroom floor.

"Ever been with a black guy" he whispered in my ear.

"No I am straight" I responded as he still had me pinned against the wall.

"Are you sure?" He smiled glancing down I realized I was still rubbing his cock thru his pants. I quickly pulled my hand away. Devan let me go and left I had to really pee now. As I came out a moment later. I ran straight into Lisa who was waiting for me.

"Paul" she said surprised. "Devan likes girlie boys" she said softly with a smile.

"What do you mean?" I asked like I had no idea what she was talking about. She handed me a pair of panties they where still warm. She just smiled. And walked away. Did she think I was gay? Was she hitting on me? What the hell should I do? I smelled the panties then stuffed them in my pocket. The party started to break up and I headed home. I was walking it was only two blocks. But as I turned the corner Devan stepped out of the shadows and grabbed me.

"We have some real privacy" he told me as he pulled me into his apartment.

"Devan, I'm not" I started but he started to strip me. I didn't fight him. I was in shock. Then he dropped his pants his cock coming free. He guided his hand down. I grasped his cock it was huge. I looked down placing both my hands on it.

"Show me your place" Devan hissed. I looked up at him. "Lisa gave you something" I nodded then looked down at my jeans.

"Put them on and kiss my cock" he ordered pushing me down. I put on Lisa's panties they were loose. Not having her hips to hold them up.

"You are skinny little thing" Devan laughed. I was kneeling staring at his cock. He smacked my face with the massive muscle. Then pushed it into my mouth. I had no idea what to do. I wasn't even experienced with girls doing this to me. I sucked and licked the tip. It tasty salty. I thought about his precum. And started to lick the sides of his cock avoiding the tip. He just stood there and let me do whatever I wanted. He eventually started to breath heavy. I knew he must be getting close and started to stroke him. He grunted as the first shot from his cock came out like a bullet hitting me in the face. He then stuffed the tip of his cock in my mouth. I gagged as he flooded my mouth with cum. It was awful. Devan picked me up. He held me my feet not touching the ground, I felt like a child.

"Lisa will help you, like she help you're friend Josh" Devan told me. He put me back down let me go rinse my mouth and clean my face before I got dressed. I don't know why but I kept Lisa's panties on wearing them under my jeans as I walked home. I laid in bed wondering why I had let Devan do what he did. I found myself getting aroused again. I shook it off and went to sleep

I woke in the morning to a text from Lisa. CAN YOU COME OVER TODAY

ABOUT 12 I responded. I got up and showered I didn't think about what had happened with Devan. I was more focused on being hopefully hooking up with Lisa.

"Hey sweety" Lisa smiled as she answered the door. I followed her inside. She led me straight to her room.

"So I heard you love big black cock" Lisa laughed.

"Who been saying that crap?" I said angrily.

"Don't sweety, I saw the video" Lisa smiled. "Now Devan would love you to be as femine as you can" Lisa held up a razor.

"Lisa I can explain" I started. She sat on her bed and waited for my explanation. "Devan forced me" I said. Lisa grabbed the remote and a video of me on my knees sucking Devon's cock started to play.

"Okay, I " I said dropping my head.

"Now Devan likes his pretty boys hairless" Lisa smiled. She had me strip. I found it exciting to be naked in front of her. She ignored it. Instead she lathered me in hair removal gel. I wanted to cry as I watched all my body hair simply wash off me and gather in the shower drain. Lisa waited for me to exit the shower. She handed me a fluffy towel. I dried myself off. Lisa handed me a pair of pink panties with little flowers and lace trim.

"They are Kathy's (her 14 year old sister) she watched as I slid them on. They fit not like the ones she had given me last night. Lisa sat me down and styled my hair. And applied makeup. Just as she finished I heard someone else was home. The door opened and in walked Josh.

Josh simple walked over to me and dropped his pants.

"It's okay Paulie, it's good practice" Lisa told me guiding my head to his cock. He was much smaller then Devan but still bigger then me. Lisa rubbed my nipples as I took Josh in my mouth.

"He doesn't even resist" Lisa said. "Not like you did" she commented to Josh. He was also hairless I realized.

"Are you going to fuck her?" Lisa asked.

"No Devan wants her virginity" Josh told her. "Maybe we should dye her hair blonde" the more they talked the more scared and excited I became.

"Lick his balls, men love their balls sucked ever so gently" Lisa told me. I did as she said. As I moved to do so I felt her hands pull my panties down. She rubbed lube against my asshole. And gently pushed her finger in. I cupped Josh's ass. As he came in my mouth. I gagged but tried to swallow his sperm.

Josh helped me up Lisa still had two fingers in my ass.

"Devan tried this shit on me. But I only let him stroke me off. I guess you just love cock. Faggot" He spat in my face.

"Don't you will make her cry" Lisa laughed. Lisa removed her fingers and pushed something harder and larger up my ass. She fixed my panties but the front was all wet.

"OH someone got really excited" Lisa laughed. She rushed out of the room and returned with fresh pair off panties. She had me change Josh sat on the bed and watched. She put a pantyliner into he baby blue panties with butterfly's all over them. She added a matching bra. She adjusted the straps. She then produced a off the shoulder purple dress it stopped mid thigh.

"Pantyhose!" Lisa said as if she remembered. And rushed back out of the room and returned rolling them up I sat as she slid them up my legs.

"Damn she looks hot, I would of fucked her years ago if I had known" Josh laughed. He grabbed my ass. Lisa added a simple necklace. And a spritz of perfume.

"These are going to be a bit tight" as she slid a pirate of heels on my feet. "Now sit and wait I am so horny now" Lisa said ripping her sweat pants off and jumping g in bed with Josh. I watched as he sucked her breasts and then fucked Lisa. All I could do was sit and watch. Josh came inside Lisa then got up.

"Get in there bitch and suck out my cum" Josh yelled. As Lisa spread her legs I could see his spank flowing out of her. Josh grabbed the back of my neck and shoved my head between her legs. I licked and sucked. I had only orally pleasured a woman once.

"She is all over the place. Baby just clean me don't worry about pleasing me" Lisa laughed. Josh smacked my ass driving the toy in my ass. I moaned so he smacked me again.

"Keep teasing him and I will have him eat your ass" Lisa told Josh. Pushing me away. She sat me back down and fixed my face. Josh laughed and left.

Lisa finished up and then led me by the hand out of the house.

"Lisa please no" I pleaded.

"Going to met up with Devan, you want to see him don't you?" Lisa continued to lead me down the street the toy in my ass gave me an erection. Lisa led me right into Devan's apartment. Devan smiled and stood up dropping his shorts. Lisa led me straight up to him. He kissed me I fell into his arms, kissing him back. He was naked and I kissed his chest.

"I want to fuck you" Devan told me. I was terrified he would split me in two. Lisa pulled my pantyhose and panties down and removed the toy. Then I heard her leave. Devan sat down and pulled me unto his lap. He held me as he guided his cock into my ass. It hurt as it started to enter my ass. He let me control the speed and depth. It hurt so much but I couldn't stop. I started to move up and down fucking myself on his cock. Devan bit my neck driving me to take even more.

"You're mine now" Devan told me in hushed tones.

"Always" I moaned. Devan stood me up. Not even removing his cock he bent me over and pushed his cock in deeper. I was crying as he did. He pumped his load into my ass. Before he pulled out his cock I collapsed. On the floor.

I woke up in a bed with satin sheets, in just my bra and panties. It was dark outside. I got up and wondered out to find Devan playing video games. My ass hurt so much I could barely walk. Devan was still naked. He motioned for me to join him I went to him he pulled me down next to him and spread his legs. I knew what he wanted and started to suck his cock. As soon as he got hard he produced a tube of lube. I lubed up his cock and he lubed my ass. Then guided me back to his lap. My ass was already hurting but couldn't say no.

I let him move me up and down on his cock.

"Everyday you are going to ride this cock" he told me kissing me. "As much as I want"

"As much as you want" I moaned as I felt his balls against my ass. He got it all inside me? I wanted this. I spent the night with Devan. In the morning Devan walked me home. I wore my dress and heels only thing I had. Devan came in with me and met my mom. My mother was shocked but pulled me into the kitchen to talk privately.

"I need him mom" I said with passion in my eyes.

"My baby got fucked good" she smiled. "He's cute too. But we need to handle this differently with your dad" my mother told me,

"I will be staying with him" I told my mother. She just nodded. And Devan took me back to his place. BOth Lisa and my mother stopped by the apartment the next few days both bringing me clothes, makeup. Mom even bought me earrings and her mother's pearls.

Lisa pierced my ears. Devan continued to train my ass, and throat. On Thanksgiving we went to my parents. I wore a purple flower print dress with 3 inch heels. I had false c cup breasts. Devan sat with my dad and watched football. I was dismissed to the kitchen. My father didn't say a word. Mom had told him but I didn't know how much. The whole family was informed ahead of time. So although I got some sideway glances. No one said a word. Devan had taught me to be quiet unless asked a question so I sat quietly. After dinner my father came up and said.

"You got a good man there" he smiled and kissed my cheek. He also didn't raise a stink when I didn't return to school instead taking some home economic classes at local trade school.

Devan paid for me to get breasts he insisted on a pair of D cups. Also had all my body hair permanently removed. My name was officially changed to Pauline and we where married at a big service 2 years later. I know Devan goes off and fucks a real woman sometimes but I never bring it up. Lisa was my matrain of honor. At my bachelorette party Lisa had me get Devan name tattooed on my ass.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 13/34 - cinnamon rolls

[Read on AO3]

It’s a little awkward at first, but he gets the sense that she just doesn’t want to be alone after what happened with Pfaster, and he can’t fault her for that. The crime scene cleaners left the place spotless, even had some furniture replaced using some of the insurance money, and he’s thankful that that’s one less thing they need to worry about.

Eventually they fall into a rhythm—commuting to work together, dividing household chores, adding his name to the lease... By the last week of January, he’s almost completely moved in, and things have been good. Really good. It surprises him how little he misses his own apartment and the life he built there. It was never a home.

Scully’s apartment… Well, he can see it becoming one.

He wakes on a Saturday to the sound of knocking on the door, bolting upright, suddenly wide awake. He glances at the time on the clock in the kitchen. Just after 8 a.m.

After the last unwelcome visitor to this address, he's understandably on edge. He briefly wonders if he should have his weapon handy, when the knock sounds again, this time followed by the gentle call of “Dana?”

Maggie. Uh oh.

He rubs his face frantically, smoothing his hair and trying to make himself look like he wasn't asleep just a minute ago. Sure, it might seem like a logical thing to do, to inform his partner’s mother that he now lives with her. But that would mean admitting to a fair few other things that she’s decidedly not ready to tell her, so for now, his mother-in-law remains in the dark.

He hurriedly folds the blanket he was using and throws it and the pillow into the spare bedroom.

He opens the door to Scully's room, hoping she's decent, and whispers loudly, "Scully! Scully, your mom's at the door!"

He gets a muffled, "Huh?" in response before her brain catches up to what he'd said, and she sits up.

It's too early to explain. If they tell her he's moving in, they'll have to tell her about their marriage and the appointment they went to at the adoption agency. They aren't ready for that.

"Should I hide in the other room?" he asks as she stands and puts on her robe.

"Like you're some high school boyfriend I snuck in, Mulder?" she says incredulously as she passes him. "Just go sit on the couch."

He does as she asks, turning on the TV at a low volume and attempting to sit as casually as possible on the couch.

She casts an amused glance at him before opening the door.

"Hi, Mom."

"Dana, did I wake you?"

"Uh, no, I was just getting ready," she lies.

"I would have come later, but I brought breakfast," Maggie says, gesturing with a dish covered in tin foil. "I wanted to see how you're doing. May I come in?"

Scully glances over her shoulder for a second before nodding and stepping aside to allow her mother to enter.

"I brought cinnamon rolls and fruit salad and—” her eyes settle on the unexpected occupant on the couch. “Oh! Hello, Fox!"

He can tell he's caught her off guard.

"Hi Mrs. Scully." He smiles, trying not to cringe at the awkwardness suddenly filling the room.

Mrs. Scully turns to her daughter. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you had company!"

"Mulder came over to help me go through some stuff to donate," Scully lies again, nodding toward the pile of boxes they have yet to unpack from Mulder's apartment. Good thing he doesn't have his personal items scattered all around yet. Score one for procrastination.

"Oh, do you need any help?" Maggie asks, setting her tray down and taking a step in their direction.

"NO!" Scully says a little too loudly, holding out a hand. "No, that's okay. There's not that much left to do."

"Alright..." Maggie says unsurely, returning to her task of readying their breakfast. "Fox, there's plenty of food,” she adds, glancing up at him kindly. “You're welcome to join us."

He's not sure if it would be better or worse to decline politely, but his growling stomach makes the choice for him.

"Sounds great," he says, standing to join them in the kitchen.

Mrs. Scully's eyes travel down to the plaid pajama pants he wears, then back up with an unreadable smile.

"Laundry day," he says as an excuse, as if he would ever leave the house like this for no reason at all.

She nods, then shakes her head in amusement and unwraps the foil from the pan.

"I'm going to warm these in the oven. Fox, would you mind brewing some coffee?"

"Mom, I can—" Scully tries, but Mulder is quicker.

"I got it, Scully." 

While Maggie is turned away, he collects the coffee mugs that are distinctly his from the cabinet and hides them on the top shelf where they won't be visible. Instead, he extracts three matching ones, all cream colored and coordinated as only Scully could be.

Breakfast passes about as awkwardly as the entire morning has, so far. Mulder manages to stuff a pile of adoption documents into a drawer just before Maggie sees them, and Scully thankfully prevents her from insisting on helping to put food away in the fridge, which is a lot more full now that more than one person lives here. Maggie asks Scully how she's doing, if she has any travel plans, and he decides he'll die on the spot if Scully tells her about their upcoming trip to Los Angeles for a movie premiere that ought to take a few years off his life. Thankfully, she remains tight-lipped about that one. He suspects her hopes for the film are about as high as his, which is to say, not high at all.

Eventually, he starts nervously glancing at the clock, watching the time tick closer and closer to when he's supposed to be at his apartment to arrange the transport of his larger furniture with the movers. If Mrs. Scully doesn't leave soon, he'll have to make up some excuse and leave himself, and Scully won't be able to come as she had planned.

"Mom, I hate to push you out the door, but Mulder and I have some stuff to take care of today," Scully comments, and Mulder suppresses a sigh of relief.

Maggie's eyes widen. The last thing she wants is to be a burden. "Of course!” she says. “I'll let you two get to it. Thanks for letting me drop in."

Scully gives a placid smile. "Thank you for breakfast."

She brushes off her thanks, busying herself with gathering up the dishes she’d brought over, then starting toward the door. "Bye, Fox," she directs toward him on her way out, offering a small wave goodbye.

He reciprocates with a nod and a forced smile. "Bye, Mrs. Scully."

His partner walks her mother to the door, whispering softly as they go. He can still hear them talking in low voices while he gets started on washing the dishes, the elder Scully’s words meant for her daughter’s ears only. He slows his movements, listening in over the sound of sloshing water as best as he can, curiosity getting the best of him.

"I'm your mother, Dana, I can tell when you're lying," Maggie says, her tone admonishing.

He can't hear what, if anything, Dana says in response. If she does speak, it's so quiet that it's beyond the capabilities of his hearing, despite his best efforts.

"If I were in your shoes, I'd feel safer if Fox were sleeping on my couch too, honey, you don't need to be embarrassed,” her mother continues. “It's okay to need someone, especially after what you've been through."

Scully sighs. "That's not…” she starts, then gives up and finishes with, “Okay, yeah, thanks Mom."

"You call me if you need anything," Maggie tells her.

Scully smiles. "I will. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetie.” She wraps her daughter in a hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek before pulling away. “Next time I'll call before I stop by, hmm?"

He can tell Scully is blushing just by the sound of her voice.

"I– I think that would be a good idea."

"Have a good day, Dana." Then, louder, "You too, Fox."

He gives one last awkward wave goodbye from the sink, and she leaves.

Scully puts her face in her hands as soon as she's gone, and groans.

"The secret lives to see another day," Mulder announces triumphantly, setting the dish drying towel aside with a wry smile. Scully shoots him a look, and he relents. "If this gets too hard, you can tell her, you know."

"No, it's fine,” she says, waving him off. “She just can't drop by and visit like that anymore. It's not going to work."

He presses his lips together, wondering if maybe they had rushed into things a little. He hopes she doesn’t regret it.

"I'm sorry, Scully,” he apologizes. “Maybe we should have waited."

She shakes her head, which comes as an instant relief to him. "Either way, this would have happened eventually,” she says. “But if this adoption doesn't work out..."

"It will," he says without hesitating.

"What if it doesn't?"

Not an option, he thinks.

"Then I can just get another apartment," he answers with a shrug.

She stares at him incredulously. "After going through all this trouble to get rid of the one you have now?” she asks. “Maybe it's not too late to hold onto it, you can tell them you've changed your mind."

He looks at her. "Is that what you want me to do?" he asks.

Her shoulders deflate. "I just don't want this to be harder than it needs to be if your plans fall through," she admits, concern pinching her eyebrows together.

This is one of those moments, he knows, where they need to be really clear with communication. It doesn’t come easily to either of them, but it matters. He hopes his next question will bring some clarity to the discussion, as much as her potential answer terrifies him.

"So if we don't end up adopting, you'd rather I go?"

Once the words are out, he watches closely for her response, trying to guess what she’s thinking by the look on her face.

Her confusion does nothing to alleviate his unease.

"Why would you stay?" she asks.

That’s easy, he thinks.

"Better company than at my place," he answers with a shrug.

He can see her thinking over his response, assessing him to see if he’s joking or not. It seems she—rightfully—comes to the correct conclusion. He’s dead serious.

"I– I'd want you to stay,” she says finally, her words providing him with the reassurance he needed. “The number of times we've both had our places broken into, I'd feel a lot better if..."

"I couldn't agree more,” he interrupts, smiling wide.

"And we spend almost every day together anyway,” she continues. “And when we travel, one of us always has to drive across town to pick the other up…"

"Logistically, we should have done this years ago," he finishes for her, and oh , how true that is. There’s a lot of things he should have done years ago.

She laughs. "I haven't had a roommate since med school."

"You smell a lot better than the one I had at Oxford," he jokes.

Her answering eye roll is worth every second he had to share a room with Reginald Butts, an aptly named law student. 

"Thanks for that, Mulder. I'm sure that's high praise."

~~~

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[avatarmerida]

So Dana tweeted this and I’m not sure what to label this AU but basically Willow is a baddie skating in the halls and Hunter is a student council member who is always on her case. Do they have magic? Idk. Am I obsessed? Yuh. Also based on this art and this art by @turquoisespace35 this art by @smallpapers and also this art by @gravityfying. Anyway, here’s some huntlow fluff thanks for the inspiration guys! Hope ya like it!

———

Hunter was simply minding his own business, trying to identify the bird in the tree above him and having a rather pleasant afternoon as he tried to destress from his eventful day. To be fair, every day was eventful for him. As a student council member and top of his class, he was responsible for making sure Hexside' reputation stayed pristine. This had earned him a rather unfavorable reputation himself. He was a legacy, he had high expectations, so he needed to do everything in his power to bring everyone to his level. In his mind, he was strict but fair. But the students saw him as a glorified hall monitor.

Which is why he always walked home alone.

As he admired the red bird that seemed to be calling out to him, the pleasant sound of silence was interrupted by a panicky echo.

“Look out!” came a familiar voice, but before Hunter could attempt to ‘look out’ as the voice had advised, his world went blurry and the next thing he knew he was pinned against the tree. When he regained focus, having a few choice words at the ready, he was stunned to find the culprit was one of his classmates.

His rebellious classmate with the most dress code violations. His resilient classmate who always had holes in her stocking and scars and bruises on her knees from skidding and falling so often. His carefree classmate who was the reason he carried a first aid kit with him. His breathtaking classmate whose bright peridot eyes somehow managed to shine through the yellow tint of her safety goggles. His classmate who was… a classmate, and nothing more.

Does she skate everywhere? He thought, knowing her skates were the cause of their… position. Skating in the hall was one thing, but this path was all downhill; even a pro would have a hard time stopping.

“Hunter! Hi! What are you doing here?” Willow casually asked the boy she currently had pinned against a tree, her hands resting naturally on his chest. Even with the height her skates gave her, he was still so much taller than her.

“Well I… I have a life outside of school, you know,” he replied, somewhat lying, his face positively beet red. Her skates made her so much taller, but she had never been this close to him. She had flipped back her signature yellow shades to see him better, apparently he was so close that he was in focus without them.

“I know,” she said plainly. “I just thought you had that big presentation today.”

“Oh that, no that’s tomorrow.” he said, his composure returning at the mention of business. “Really? Cause I’m pretty sure that’s where Amity is,” said Willow, backing up to give him space. “I thought it was the 4th.”

“It is,” he said. “On Wednesday.”

“No, Hunter today is the 4th,” said Willow.

“Wh- a-are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Don’t you remember when you wrote me up on Friday? You said ‘this is the last one of the month’ because the next day was the first and that was Saturday, so then Sunday was the second and then yesterday-.”

“Oh no,” he said softly, the color draining from his face as he realized she was right. His breathing became faster. “Oh no, oh no, oh no! H-how did I mess this up?’

“Hey, it’s okay! It doesn’t start until 4 so you-.”

“It’s almost 3:45 and the school is at least a 35 minute walk,” said Hunter, beginning to spiral. “A-and we always start right on time and I’m supposed to go first and if I don’t go then my proposal won’t be considered and if my proposal isn’t considered then that means I’ve spent weeks preparing for nothing and not to mention if my uncle hears that I-.”

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey,” said Willow, waving her hands in front of his eyes to get him to snap out of it. She placed her hands on his shoulders to direct his focus on her. “Just breathe, okay? Look at me and breathe. Count with me 1,2,3 in and 1,2,3, out. In and out.”

She motioned him to follow as she counted with her fingers, not removing her eyes from his until he felt safe to follow her instructions. Hunter would normally feel silly but it actually helped him. He focused on Willow and while his anxieties did not disappear, they definitely felt less heavy.

“Good,” Willow said gently when she could tell his heart was no longer about to explode. “Now, let’s think of a solution, okay? There’s always a way to help. Now, you’re right; the school is about a 35 minute walk from here-.”

“I know, it’s useless to even think that-.”

“-but I bet we can cut that in half on skates,” she finished with a smile.

Hunter looked at her like she was insane, like there was a punchline coming, but she remained unmoved. She was serious.

“What? Are you gonna carry me to the school on your skates? Y-you’re just gonna scoop me in your arms, and whisk me away as we speed off together into the sunset like you’re some kind of beautiful knight who reached me o-or something? Is that what you’re saying?” The way Hunter said it made it seem like he didn’t believe it was possible but also that he had had this impossible thought before. More than once. He didn’t seem against it.

“Um, not quite,” she smiled. She turned to remove her backpack, a blush gracing her cheeks (though it was nothing compared to the one Hunter currently wore) as she pulled her solution from her knapsack.

“You brought extra roller skates?” Hunter said, somehow not really supposed.

“I literally go nowhere without them!” Willow exclaimed in a bright, bubbly one, as she handed them to him. “They’re my dad’s old pair and I was gonna give them to Gus but they’re too big, but they should fit you! How lucky is that?”

“What, you expect me to do the presentation in roller skates? That’s worse than not showing up at all!”

“No, we can put your shoes in my bag and you can change when you get there,” she said simply. “We can totally get you there in time, I know a short cut.”

She seemed so sure, so genuine, so sweet. Hunter found it hard to keep up appearances as he let out a dramatic sigh as he snatched her skates from her and he leaned against the tree to start putting them on.

“Well, don’t think this means I’m gonna stop writing you up,” said Hunter as he carefully slipped off his shoes.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she smiled, gently rolling her eyes endearingly as she went to place his shoes in her bag. She fought back a grin when she noticed the red cartoon birds that decorated his socks, but she kept that to herself.

He watched him struggle with the laces for a moment, they were loose on his ankles but the edges were frayed and were hard to get through the holes on the very top. She leaned down to help him, and when their fingers touched briefly Hunter pulled his hands back like he had just touched lava. Willow said nothing, knowing how prideful he was as she felt his eyes on her as she wordlessly tightened his laces.

She couldn’t help but hope that he was speechless the way she had been the day she had fallen in the hallway. It was the usual game, she was teasing him beckoning him to chase her to give her the citation in person and she had been overzealous and lost her balance skating backwards. But he didn’t taunt her or laugh, but rather rushed to her side riddled with concern. She remembered how there were no words in her head as she watched him drop the cold persona that she had long suspected was an act to lecture her on safety, not because it was a rule or because he wanted to say “I told you so” but because he cared about her.

Willow suspected he wasn’t used to someone caring about him the same way.

“I know you’re just doing this so you can tell everyone how uncoordinated I am,” he muttered after a minute, not knowing how to maneuver the silence. He didn’t really believe Willow would be so ruthless, he was just embarrassed that he needed saving.

“What?” said Willow, genuinely surprised by his harsh tone. It wasn’t his usual harsh tone, it had a twinge of hurt beneath it.

“Well, why else would you be so nice to me?” He asked as she finished the bow. “No one likes me.”

Willow giggled.

“What?” asked Hunter, not used to being laughed at in a way that didn’t feel condescending.

“Boscha’s always saying I’m no one,” she said, rising to her feet. “So maybe I’m the perfect person to like you.”

“Don’t say that!” He said sternly, as he quickly stood up as well, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “You’re not no one.”

He said it with such conviction and anger, as though the idea of her believing she was any less than she was inspired a fury in him unmatched by any uniform infraction or social injustice. He didn’t need to add “because” or “to me” because he felt it was so obvious. She was too vibrant and kind and strong to be no one.

As she searched her mind for a response, she saw Hunter begin to lose his balance and quickly leaned forward to catch him.

“I’m guessing you’re not much of a skater?” she asked lightly, not knowing what else to say.

“I uh don’t have much time for leisure or recreational activities,” he said, clearing his throat as he was overly aware of her hands on him, one on his back and the other gently on his chest. It was difficult to remain professional in such a stance, but if anyone could try it was him.

“Well, consider this a crash course,” she teased.

“What?”

“Oh no, sorry,” she laughed nervously. “We’re not gonna crash. Well, probably not. Well… we’re gonna try.”

“Oh this is a bad idea,” said Hunter, his legs shaking.

“Hey, don’t worry,” she said, helping him regain his balance until he stood by himself. She held out her hand to him and gave him a sweet smile. “I won’t let you fall.”

He carefully took it and allowed her to lead him.

She did not seem opposed in the slightest to be holding his hand, to be seen holding his hand. He mainly focused on keeping his skates facing forward and not knocking into each other, but Willow had a natural balance. He knew it came from practice, that if he wasn’t here holding her back she’d be doing elaborate spins and jumps, but still he felt safe beside her. If he wasn’t in a rush, he felt like he could do this forever.

He just wished he had a helmet.

As they descended down the bumpy street, there was so much for Hunter to be nervous about: falling on his face, being late to his presentation, showing up to his predation with a face that had clearly been fallen on, but the most pressing matter at the moment was whether or not the stunning girl holding his hand could feel how sweaty it was. His heart was racing but not from the cardio. It was a good thing Willow knew where they were going because his eyes certainly were not on the path ahead of them.

This was the longest silence that had ever passed between them, Willow wasn’t sure what to make of it. She had seen Hunter concerned before, but these nerves were new. She tried to lighten the mood.

“These are your fault, you know.” She said, adopting her normal tone as seen in their hallway encounters.

“What?”

“My rollerskates.”

“What? Me? How? I never-.”

“Do you remember my most common infraction before you were always hounding me about my skates?”

“Tardiness,” he said without hesitation.

She smiled, wondering if he remembered everyone’s violations so quickly. “Yeah, I was always running late because Bocha needed to make sure she tormented me before first period.”

“Ms. Park, I assure you if I had known that was the reason I would’ve handled the situation with more-.”

“I know,” she said simply. “But still, you said something once that gave me an idea. I didn’t tell you that Boscha was the reason, I just said I kept getting lost and you said ‘well then, find another way.’ So I did.”

“You heard that and got ‘rollerskate everywhere?’”

“Okay, I might’ve put my own spin on it,” she giggled as they turned a corner, and she felt his grip tighten . “But it worked, didn’t it? I haven’t been late since.”

“Yes but roller skates are still against school safety and dress codes,” Hunter pointed out.

“But they get me there,” she said simply. “And they got me off Boscha’s radar and onto yours.”

He looked at her with wide, worried eyes. “Miss Park, I hope you’re not suggesting that I am on a level with Boscha,” he said seriously and another smile tugged at Willow’s lips as she couldn’t help but notice the disgusted way he said Boscha’s name. How he didn’t even bother to grace her with formality. “I know I may be strict, but I hope you know I would never want to make you feel how she makes you feel. I know she used to sit on the council, but If I ever-.”

“No, no nothing like that,” she laughed. “It’s just, I much prefer being on your radar is all I mean.”

“Oh.” Was all he could say. It still didn’t add up, she liked being in trouble? “Huh.”

Willow saw and understood his confusion. “You’re really into your position on the student council,” she said as though he was unaware. “Sometimes it feels like breaking the rules is the only way I get to talk to you.”

Did she know how every morning he held his breath, worried today was the day she changed her ways? That he wouldn’t feel her breeze as she zoomed by him in the hall, her braids coming undone as she maneuvered through other students like a maze? She had never injured anyone (besides herself) and she technically wasn’t running and hadn’t damaged any school property, but Hunter had scoured the handbook for something to say about it. Because he just wanted an excuse to talk to her.

“And you… like talking to… me?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said simply. No hesitation, no eye rolling, no sarcasm. How could that be true? “Ya know, you’re not as uptight as you want everyone to believe you are. I think you’re secretly a big sweetheart.”

“Me?” He scoffed, he had certainly never been called that before. Not even ironically. “How am I sweet? I write you up every day!”

His voice shook as they quickly moved to avoid a pot hole but Willow never let go of his hand.

“Well, yeah but,” Willow couldn’t help but laugh. “I mean, you make a big show of writing me up and threatening me with detention but you never actually follow through.”

“What? I-I have! I mean, I must have at least once er-”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “You always say you could but you never do.”

“Well, t-that’s because it goes straight on your permanent record.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, obviously unconvinced. She was pretty sure those didn’t even exist. She also knew it wasn’t because he didn’t have the power to, because he sent Boscha to detention literally all the time.

She had her theories, but right now probably wasn’t the right time to voice them.

“I… well, the thing is I…” he offered her a soft look as he tried to find the words. Something in his eyes made her think maybe he was about to confirm her theories. “I think I actually might…”

But before he could finish, the hill became too steep and Hunter promptly lost his balance. He unwillingly surrendered Willow’s hand as his arms flailed to his sides trying to save him from tumbling forward. Willow rolled beside him, keeping her eyes on him as she tried to grab his hand again. When she realized she couldn’t, she improvised and reached out to grab in an embrace, trapping his arms at his side as she clung to him tightly. They continued to skate down the hill at increasing speed as Willow tried to ease gently into the breaks so they wouldn’t go flying.

Finally, they reached flat land and when they did Hunter arrived deeper in Willow’s embrace, his cheek pressed firmly against hers as she shut her eyes, focused on keeping them safe. All he could focus on was how close they were. She lifted him off the ground, not knowing her own strength and all he could do was just be lifted by her.

Their faces were touching, oh Titan their faces were touching!

He swore he wasn’t breathing, he swore time stood still as he floated in some parking lot being held tightly by Willow Park. He could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo, a collection of jasmine and mango.

“You okay?” She asked, opening one eye to make sure no damage had come to him.

“Never better.” He squeaked. He wondered if he even weighed anything to her.

“We made it,” she declared gleefully, and he was so close he could feel the smile on her face. He was so lost in the euphoria of being so close to her he had totally forgotten the reason for it. Then his eyes registered where they were.

And in record time too.

“We made it,” he breathed as she set him down. How had he ever doubted her?

“Not quite yet,” she said as she took his hand and led him once again. “C’mon!”

They slid through the side entrance and something about it made Hunter feel oddly… giddy. Willow sped ahead of him like a bullet, her brow furrowed in determination as she raced against the clock.

“Move aside!” She announced to a few lingering students walking through the halls. “Precious cargo, coming though!”

He laughed, in spite of himself, feeling like he was in a dream. Being with her in the hall now instead of against her felt… right. This was how she saw the world: fast, exciting, scary. Normally he was just a mere star she passed by, close for only a brief moment before her orbit spun her elsewhere. But now he was fully caught in her gravity, hoping to be a moon, a sun, a comet; anything that followed her closely. Anything she’d let him be.

All too soon, they were outside the classroom where Hunter was to give his presentation. Willow could see they were still setting up and Hunter would get his chance to do his presentation.

“We did it!” She declared victoriously, wiping the sweat from her brow. “We did-.” She looked up at him in excitement but was taken back when he didn’t share her elatement. Instead, his focus was on her. He was looking at her like she was some precious jewel he had been searching for his whole life. “What’s wrong? Do I have something on my face or-.?”

“You’re amazing,” he said like the phrase took all the air in his lungs.

She gave a tiny chuckle as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. It wasn’t what she had been expecting to hear but she certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Well hey, don’t waste all your charm on me, student council,” she teased. “Getting here was the easy part, you still have a speech to give.”

“Right,” he said with a rare smile. Willow wondered why he didn’t smile more, he had such a pretty smile. “Anyway, thanks for all your help. I… really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” she said, and Hunter swore a rosey halo surrounded her. As he was admiring just how picturesque she was, a mischievous smile crept onto her face, as she allowed her wheels to bring her closer to him. “Um, excuse me, student council member Wittebane, but wearing roller skates in the hallway is against school policy, in case you weren’t aware.”

He offered her a shy, playful smile, running his hand through his hair as he leaned against the lockers, absentmindedly sending a chill up Willow’s spine. She caught him off guard and for a moment he was a little silly. Like he felt safe enough to be.

“Well, I guess I have to make an exemption today,” he said, his voice possessing a lighter tone that Willow was certain few people had ever heard. She liked it. She watched him quickly sink to the ground as he began to undo the laces on the skates as she handed him his shoes from her bag.

“Tomorrow morning though, no roller skating in the hallways,” he said, mocking himself as he wagged his finger at her. They both knew she wouldn't listen.

“But what if I’m running late?” She said innocently as she helped him back onto his feet once he had returned to his shiny dress shoes. “I have classes on opposite sides of the school, how else am I supposed to get there in time?”

“Well uh, I’m sure I could assist somehow,” he said, clearing his throat. He owed her one after all. “I could get you a special hall pass or help you plan a route or-.”

“Maybe you should start walking me to class,” she suggested.

“As punishment?”

She shrugged. “If you wanna call it that,” she said, brushing some invisible lint off of his shoulder. “Here, lemme fix your tie. Can’t have you beating my record for dress code violations, now can we?” She made sure he didn’t reflect the journey too much, adjusting his pin as well. Even after all that, he still managed to look so pristine. Maybe it was his posture, or his height, or the sharp definition of his jawline but his demeanor just seemed like it was permanently studious. Like he had a shell that extended to his heart. Like the cracks in his composure could only be seen up close and Willow wanted more than anything to have them memorized. Willow had caught glimpses of these cracks before, when she made a joke that caught him off guard and summoned a smile or dared him to joke back before following up with policy and procedure. These cracks didn’t make him foolish or fragile as she knew he worried they did, no: they made him shine.

The classroom was becoming louder as Amity tried to gain control so they could start and Hunter knew they’d be starting soon. But all he wanted to do was watch her fuss over his tie like she just wanted an excuse to be close to him.

“Willow, I-,” he started and her eyes instantly darted up to him. He then realized that that may have been the first time he had used her first name. He said it so gently, like he was worried he wasn’t worthy of it. She looked at him with wide eyes, like she hoped he’d say it again.

“Yeah?”

“I uh… I guess better head inside,” Hunter said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice. Both because he didn’t want to leave and because that wasn’t what he wanted to say.

“Guess you’d better,” she echoed, though she did not release him.

“But thank you again,” he said. “For helping me, for getting me here. No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I have plenty of experience with being a no one, huh?” She said coyly. She knew he was about to protest, but before he had the chance to, she rose up and slyly pressed a quick kiss to his check. “Good luck, Mr. Student Council,” she whispered with a playful wink, doing one more small spin before skating away, leaving him stunned by the lockers.

She knew she had left a faint lipstick mark on his face, and from the corner of her eyes she noticed that he could not bring himself to wipe it off before finally heading inside.

Must not be a dress code violation, she thought to herself. Good to know.

[oohnotvery]

Hand To Your Heart (Chapter 6)

Read on AO3

Precious readers,

Thank you so much for the encouragement and support. I have really leaned on it lately. This nausea is kicking my ass. Maybe that’s why this chapter is a veritable angst-fest. You’ve been warned. As always, I promise that things will get sweet and sappy and dopey and MSR-lovefest soon enough.

And just a reminder that things are not always as they seem. I had some readers feeling quite anxious that this was turning into a Fowley-Mulder romance, and it really, really isn’t. In fact, the idea makes me want to vomit (I mean, everything does these days, but still). None of my stories are Fowley-Mulder. They just seem like they are (to Scully).

tw/cw: pregnancy update below

Also, in personal news . . . I found out I'm having a BOY! As a girl mom, I am shocked to my core, even though there was a 50-50 chance of it being a boy. Boy mamas of the world, teach me your ways!!!!! (also, I fully believe gender is a construct and a spectrum and all that :) but right now, there is a tiny alien inside me with XY chromosomes, and it is wild)

tagging @today-in-fic

Breathless, Scully twists around, her eyes meeting Diana’s. She glances around the motel parking lot and sees no sign of Mulder’s car.

“He went to the police station,” Diana offers, a knowing smile rising to her perfectly-painted lips.

Scully nods indifferently, then moves to her car, unlocking the door and tossing her go-bag in the passenger seat. She’s about to slip into the driver’s seat when Diana catches her elbow. 

“Are you not checking into the motel?” Diana asks, her brow furrowing in mock confusion.

Scully considers it. There’s no way she’s sticking around today, not after all the damning evidence pointing to a dalliance between Mulder and Diana. Sure, Mulder might get a little pissy if she skips town, but he’s a big boy. Plus, by the looks of things, Diana will be there to comfort him.

“I have something urgent I have to return to tonight,” Scully replies primly.

Diana’s eyebrows tick up with faux interest. “Another case?”

Scully shrugs, hoping it’s enough to throw the woman off her scent.

Diana steps in closer, a girlish smile growing on her face. Her voice lowers conspiratorially. “Or do you have someone to get home to, Agent Scully? Someone I don’t know about?”

Scully blinks. Someone you don’t know about? You know nothing about me, you witch. This isn’t a high school sleepover where we gossip about boys we like.

She tries to settle her features, reminding herself that Diana is trying to bait her on purpose. “I have an engagement tomorrow that I can’t miss,” she deflects.

“So coy,” Diana replies, grinning. “Come on, Dana, you can tell me. Woman-to-woman. Who’s the lucky man?”

Scully glances at her car, wondering how rude it would be if she simply jumped in and drove away mid-conversation. Before she can formulate a response, however, Diana is already chiming in.

“Fox would be interested to know as well, I’m sure,” she continues. Scully’s head whips around at the mention of her partner’s name, and she knows her reaction is an error when Diana’s eyes gleam. “Last night, I convinced him to tell me more about your adventures together. A five-year partnership? That’s one for the books.” The woman steps closer, her perfume reeking of disdain and deception. “It has taken some special encouragement on my part for Fox to really start opening up to me, though. All men are the same in that way, you know. You give them what they desire, and they’ll give you just about anything in return.”

Before she can stop her body’s involuntary response, Scully’s lips part in surprise. Automatically, she clenches her hands behind her back, trying to prevent them from shaking.

“Something the matter?” Diana asks, smiling innocently.

Unable to trust her own voice, Scully shakes her head and slips down into the driver’s seat, something she’s realizing she should have done as soon as she spotted Diana. Before she can close the door, though, Diana slides into the empty space and holds it open, leaning down to meet Scully’s gaze. Scully keeps her eyes trained on the dashboard, certain that if she looks just slightly to her left, she’ll get a full-on view of that envious cleavage.

“I hope I didn’t say anything offensive, Dana. I suppose it’s a bit awkward to hear about your partner in that way. I know you two are practically siblings. Fox thinks of you as a little sister of sorts.” Diana’s hand slides casually onto her shoulder and Scully grits her teeth. “But surely you know that he and I—that we’ve been on the more intimate side as of late.”

I won’t react, I won’t react, she promises herself, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. But images assault her mind, dozens at a time. She thinks about the way Mulder looks when he’s coming, how his eyes seem to darken and his eyebrows pinch together, almost as if he’s in pain. And then there’s the release, and the joy and satisfaction rippling over his features so gloriously, it makes her feel like a queen. Traitorously, her mind flips the image on its head, inserting Diana where she herself normally is. Bile rises in her throat.

“He’s such a gentleman,” Diana continues with a squeeze to the shoulder. “We agreed to be friends with benefits, but I can see he wants more. You don’t take a woman out for dinner and drinks every time you sleep with her if you don’t want something more.” She clicks her tongue. “But that’s just Fox. He’ll always be ruled by those pesky emotions.”

She’s lying, the voice inside her head screams, but Diana’s words drown out all logic.

Tears start to build on her lower lashes and with trembling hands, Scully forces the key into the ignition, revving the car.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she mutters, and with a graceful smile, Diana slips out of the door.

“Thanks for the chat, Dana,” she says slyly. “It’s so good to talk woman-to-woman.”

Without even a sideways glance, Scully reaches forward and slams the door shut.

**

She drives to the office. It is only midday, and although her morning has been as horrible as they come, she can’t seem to shirk the sense of duty calling her back to work. At her desk, she tries to ignore the blinking red light on her answering machine, and when her desk phone rings, she is highly tempted to ignore the call. But she is a professional, and this is her work phone, and she cannot risk missing a call from A.D. Kersh. The moment she picks up the receiver, though, she knows she’s made a mistake.

“What the hell, Scully?” Mulder demands. “Did you really just up and leave me?”

She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, pausing to collect the storm of emotions brewing inside. “I had something to get back to here in town.”

Mulder pauses. “So that’s it? You’re done today?”

“I see no reason to expense the FBI for any more motel rooms,” she responds reasonably.

“Are you coming back tomorrow?”

She clacks her fingernails on the desktop. “I’m a bit preoccupied here,” she lies.

He scoffs. “No, you’re not. I know what you’re doing, Scully. I’ve been doing it for weeks. You’re sorting through bullshit requests from Kersh. None of that is as important as what we’re working on.”

“You have a partner, Mulder,” she reminds him curtly. “You have no need for me.”

“I need a pathologist, for Christ’s sake—”

“Get another one, then. I told you, I’m too busy.”  

“No, I need—I need—” He curses. “So you’re just refusing to help us out, is that right? You’re denying another agent’s request for help, Agent Scully?”  

“You’re no longer my department head, Agent Mulder,” she reminds him darkly. “You can’t make me.”

He barks an angry laugh. “No one could ever make you do anything. Much less me.”

“Are you finished, Mulder?” she grumbles irritably. “Because I told you I’m busy—”

The phone abruptly goes dead. She stares at the receiver in surprise, momentarily stunned. Swallowing past the hard knot of pain rising in her throat, she gently places the phone back in its cradle, and then as if on autopilot, turns to her computer and begins to work.

**

Scully stays at the office far longer than she intended, but it feels good to put her head down and concentrate on something other than her personal problems. By the time she looks up from her desk, most of the bull pen is empty, and since she worked through rush hour, traffic isn’t even half-bad.

She steps into her apartment with a sigh of relief, tossing her keys and weapon onto a side table and gingerly stepping out of her boots. She’s headed straight for the bathtub when a tall figure rises from the couch. With a yelp, she lunges for her weapon, finger tightening quickly around the trigger, only to loosen when she realizes it’s just Mulder.

Slamming her gun onto the table, she fixes him with a furious look. “What the living hell, Mulder?” she shouts.

He scrubs his hands over his bleary face and she realizes he’s been sleeping. “I tried to warn you,” he says with a shrug. “I called your work phone and left a message on your cell. Why are you getting home so late? I’ve been here for hours.”

Gritting her teeth, she shakes her head. “I stopped answering my work calls after a particularly onerous conversation left me with a bad taste in my mouth,” she gripes.

His lips twist into a half-smile. “Must’ve been a helluva chat.”

Ignoring his ill attempts at humor, she makes her way into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water just to give her hands something to do.

“I intended to take a bath,” she tells him when she hears him enter the room behind her.

“Be my guest,” he says magnanimously, “I’ll even scrub your back.” She hears the grin on his face and it cracks something inside her.

“Do you ever stop to think about just how infuriating you are, Mulder?” she snaps, whipping around to face him. “I swear it’s like every interaction we’ve had lately has been one nightmare after the next!”

His face falls, so slightly she almost misses it. But she catches the pain and misunderstanding that flash across his face, and it makes her feel like an ass. Mulder doesn’t know what transpired after she left the graveyard. He doesn’t know she’s in love with him. He doesn’t know she snooped through Diana’s room and found damning evidence of their relationship. He doesn’t know about her conversation with Diana. He has no idea why she’s suddenly so agitated with him.

Shaking her head regretfully, she steps closer. “I’m sorry, Mulder, I didn’t mean that.”

He shrugs apathetically, but she knows she’s wounded him. “Yes, you did. But it’s alright. I’m well- aware of my defects. It’s incredible you’ve put up with me for this long.”

“Oh, stop—”

“No, you’re right, Scully. I’m a pain in the ass to be around. I’m irritating, unlovable—”  

She groans. “Mulder, please don’t turn this into a pity party—”

“Then what is it?” he asks earnestly, stepping closer. They are just inches apart now. “What’s going on? Why are you so angry at me right now?”  

When she hesitates, he grips her hands, squeezing tightly. “Scully, is this about how I hurt you? Will you please tell me what happened that night?” His eyebrows crease in consternation. “It’s practically all I can think about.”

Oh, God, is he still on about that? Her hands burn within his grip. He looks so beautifully, infuriatingly fuckable in his black t-shirt and jeans. End-of-day stubble lines his cheeks, and normally, she’d take that as a subtle cue that he wants to eat her out, because she once admitted to him how good his stubble felt against her thighs. It’s just not fair, she thinks petulantly. It’s not fair that he can play me like a violin.

She shakes her head, tugging her hands out of his and glancing meaningfully at the kitchen clock. “Don’t you have someone you need to get back to tonight?” she asks.

He tilts his head, studying her closely. “I have a case I need to get back to, but I came here to see if you’re alright.”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

“Diana seemed to think you were upset.”

Her eyes flash to his. “Diana isn’t a reliable source of information.”

That seems to get his attention. He slaps his palm against the countertop. “What is your issue with her? Why can’t you stop pitting yourself against her? It’s not a competition, Scully. She can be a good agent and so can you—”

“I don’t need a lesson in relationships,” she hisses angrily. “But it seems you do.”

He blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Ever since she walked back into your life, you’ve—you’ve chosen her.” She flushes red at her admission.

“I’ve chosen her?” he half-laughs, brow crinkling in confusion.

She swallows thickly, ignoring the humiliating sting of tears on her lashes.

“For the past five years,” she says, straightening her spine and lifting her chin, “I have worked tirelessly by your side to support you and bolster you. If I have ever questioned you, it is because I care. Because I want to validate your work and because I want others to see its value too.” She licks her lips nervously. “But for the past few weeks, ever since she arrived on scene, you seem hellbent on believing that I am your enemy!”

“I asked you to come out to the field with us today, didn’t I?”

“Excuse me if it didn’t feel like the kumbaya moment I’m sure you hoped it would be,” she snaps.

“You want to know what’s going on? Diana believes in me,” he says, his eyes clouded with anger. “But when I told the OPR panel about what happened to us in Antarctica, you left me hanging! You failed to corroborate my account.” He leans closer to her, his voice growing harsh. “You want me to think that you believe in me? Try having my back like Diana does—”

“That is not fair,” she hisses. “I have gone to great personal and professional lengths to protect you and defend you—”

“Out of obligation,” he snaps. “Not out of true belief. You don’t believe in my cause.”

“You can’t expect me to follow blindly, Mulder. I am a scientist.” She meets his gaze determinedly. “What the hell happened to what you said to me in the hallway, before I was stung by that bee? Or was that all just a bunch of blabber to keep me from leaving for Utah?”

He steps back, his eyes shuttering like curtains over a window. “I don’t remember what I said.”

Her cheeks flame, fire and blood rushing to her pale skin. But you saved me, he had said. Your goddamn strict rationalism and science have saved me.

She meets his gaze and there is an unasked and unanswered question between them. Do you remember that you tried to kiss me? That we were walking a very fine line between friends-with-benefits and actual lovers? Or are you pretending to have forgotten that as well?

He blinks, looking away. She dips her head, heart pounding, tears pooling, cheeks pinking. “I have been made a fool many times in the past few weeks,” she says quietly. “But I will not make a fool of myself today. If you refuse to acknowledge the value I have added to the X-Files and to your work, then that is your choice. But it makes a mockery of our time together.” She looks up and finds him staring at his shoes.

Slowly, she reaches out and brushes her hand with his. It is a last-ditch effort to remind him of the sacred thing between them, of their bond.

“What happened that’s made you feel this way about me? Is this all about Antarctica and—and that OPR panel? Is there something more?” She links her fingers around his palm.

He pushes her away abruptly, shaking his hand like she’s burned it. “Don’t try that,” he snaps.

Her eyes widen. “Try what?” 

He scowls disapprovingly. “Now isn’t the time for—you know.” He gestures between their two bodies and shock slices through her spine.

Affronted, she takes a step back. “Now isn’t the time for what?” she breathes darkly. “Do you really think I’m coming onto you right now?”

He fixes her with a knowing look and her lips part indignantly. How dare he. Sweat breaks out against her neck and she feels the words rushing to her lips, too fast to contain.

“You asked how you hurt me, Mulder,” she says ruthlessly, and when he blanches, she knows she’s hit the right nerve. She takes a step closer, feeling herself growing more and more powerful. “You fucked me after our office burned down, but you didn’t even try to make it good for me. You were so rough and so impatient with me that I bled that night and the next day.” He turns very, very still, and a sick, twisted joy rises up inside her. She lowers her voice. “All this time, I knew you were just using me for stress relief, but that night, it seemed strangely like a hate fuck. Is that what it was, Mulder? Do you hate me so much now that you couldn’t even look me in the eyes that night, but instead had to turn me around so you could useme as roughly as you wanted?”  

He has turned as pale as a ghost, all color drained from his face.

She knows that when she agreed to a relationship with him, she made a serious error in judgment. For her, their intimate moments have been separate and apart from their work. Having sex with Mulder happened outside of their roles as federal agents. Their lovemaking was a physical expression of a lust and affection that had been simmering and growing and building for years between a man and a woman. Or at least, that’s what she thought.

“I know why you did it,” she adds, her power building and cresting. In the back of her mind, she knows she should stop, but she can’t help herself. The words are flowing out of her like water rushing past a broken dam, and it feels too good. “You were never having sex with me, with Dana Scully. You were always just fucking around with Agent Scully, your coworker. And as soon as Agent Scully started to disagree with you, when Agent Scully began to stand in contrast to an old friend with a far more open mind, the jig was up. Agent Scully represented disbelief and skepticism. Diana Fowley was certainty and reassurance. I should have realized that the work and the sex would be inextricable for you. If Agent Scully isn’t fully on board with your beliefs, then you can’t bring yourself to intimacy with her.” She swallows hard, steadying herself for the final blow. “So, imagine my relief when I found out that you have Diana now to satisfy that particular need.”

He seems struck dumb, so she speaks for him. Pushing past him to her front door, she swings it open, ignoring the way her entire body trembles with rage.

“In case it wasn’t already clear, consider yourself released from any further arrangement with me, or whatever sense of obligation made you come here two nights ago. This thing between us is done.” When he doesn’t move, she points at the door. “Leave, Mulder.”

As if on autopilot, he steps forward, moving towards the doorway like a dead man walking. He pauses on the threshold and she refuses to meet his eyes. She hears him swallow and squeezes shut her eyes when his hand comes to rest against her bicep.

He stays there for a long moment, his breathing quiet but erratic, and after a time, she wonders if she’s going to need to physically remove him from her apartment. But then he squeezes her arm, so lightly that anyone else might have missed it, and bends his head until his hair brushes her own.

“I am . . . so sorry that I hurt you,” he whispers brokenly. His hand slides off her arm and she waits until he is completely out of her presence before letting the door fall shut.

And when she is finally alone, she crumples to the ground and cries.

[onmyyan]

Endless Again

CH. TWO

TW'S: Canon typical violence, yandere, 

Jon tapped his foot along to the rhythm of the song gently humming through Damian's car, unlike his brooding companion he was thrilled to be starting college, it felt so typical! Like he was any other twenty-one-year-old about to enter the next chapter of their life, for once, he didn't feel like he had to be Superboy, his father's unmeasurable shadow was far from the walls of Gotham U, he could just be Jon.

The bright-eyed male hummed happily as they pulled into the private parking lot of the school, he was awed at the looming structure, still not quite used to the fancy dancy university, and while he couldn't be more excited at the sight, he could practically feel the dark cloud over Damian's head.

While he was used to the sour expression on his friend's face, he couldn't help but notice the irregular pattern of his heartbeat, he was particularly irate, so when his cat-like glare focused in on Jon's shaking leg, he immediately stopped, his sheepish whisper of "Sorry" was ignored by the Wayne heir.

The dynamic duo made their way into Gotham U with two vastly different expressions. People tended to stare at Damian when he walked through a room, so Jon was used to the looks, however, he wasn't used to people staring at him like this, hushed whispers and not-so-subtle glances were on the two of them all day, and Jon, being the person he was, returned those looks with a big smile, he didn't seem to notice the effect he had on people, the flustered state his boyish grin left them in, while Damian kept his scowl facing forward, his chin upturned, his tolerance for the day was thin enough as is, he could do without the lemurs gossiping through the halls.

He was counting down the seconds until he could return home and get back to the work he felt actually mattered. Jon babbled on beside him as they walked to their shared first course, he cared for his friend, truly he did, but his patience was paper thin, and the thought of entertaining conversation was out of the question, nothing would make this shit-show bearable, at least that's what he assumed.

After your first course, you stepped into the crowded, well-lit ivory-covered halls, and felt someone's eyes on you, once you turned to the source, you were quickly met with a loud squeal that brought an instant grin to your face.

A pleasant gift from the universe came in the form of Dana Hoyt, the now twenty-two-year-old, had been the one person in high school brave enough to try and be your friend. While short in duration, your friendship had begun to truly bloom that last year, unfortunately, she was a year ahead of you and in turn, graduated before you. You recognized her warm aura and without thinking opened your arms for the bear hug you knew was coming.

She all but sprinted across campus when she spotted you, cutting her way through a whole crowd of rich kids, all of who looked at her as if she'd grown an extra head, her wide smile was met with your own, and the hug brought forth an unfamiliar, yet welcome feeling. "Holy shit!- When I read your name in the list of first years I was like no fucking way it's her but it is! Hi!!" Her excitement to see you was genuine, that much you could tell.

Your smile was bigger than it had been in ages, "Hi Dana, how are you?" you watched as she seemed to light up even more, "We have soo much to talk about oh my god." she quickly linked arms with you as she began to lead you around, taking on the unofficial role of your tour guide.

She made sure you knew where every one of your professor's classes was, and by the time lunch rolled around, it had felt like you picked up right where you left off in high school.

As your new-old friend went on about the best places to eat near campus, you were busy surveying the area for potential threats and made eye contact with a rather gloomy-looking young man sitting beneath a tree, his whole aura read 'leave me the hell alone', and you could get that, he almost seemed to be pouting as he sat there, with a small book in one hand and a granny smith in the other, he held this air of untouchability around him.

Even with the distance between you, you could tell he was the kind of pretty that was unfair, a head full of dark well kept hair, his warm, tan skin wrapped in a black turtleneck that showed off his wide chest, the matching dark coat he wore fluttered in the breeze, he looked as if he belonged on the cover of a magazine. He held your gaze, his foul expression shifting to something more curious, his plump lips curled up, just the slightest, he took a purposeful bite of the apple in his hand, tongue just barely poking out to swipe at the juice beading on his bottom lip, a thick brow raised ever so slowly as if to ask you 'what?' you felt a flutter of something, odd, in your tummy at the action, a smirk of your own grew at the new feeling, your staring contest was only broken when Dana snapped a manicured hand in front of your face, breaking you from whatever weird spell he put you under.

"Oh, I'm sorry was my wonderful, free, information boring you?" she asked as if offended, but you could tell from her smile she was teasing, huffing out a laugh, you played with the skin of your lip, and in the best apologetic tone you could muster, "Sorry hun- Guess I got a little distracted." She turned her head to face whatever it was that stole your attention, her expression turning mischievous, "Oh nevermind honey- I totally get it. Damian Wayne has that effect on people." she not so subtly elbowed your side, "He's a total smoke show but has a nasty streak, he's been here just as long as you have and has already made a professor cry." You snorted at this, now even more intrigued. 

Shaking your head to rid your mind of the man, you stood, pulling the shorter woman up with a charming smile that had her pout fading, "C'mon, lemme' buy you a snack to make up for my goldfish-like attention span." She beamed at you, once more linking your arms to sing out, "Thank you suga' mama." 

By the time a mid-day assembly was called, a rather ugly feeling had taken residence in your stomach, and that sinking feeling had only worsened when you were ushered into what looked like the university auditorium.

As much as you wanted to throw yourself into the college experience, something poked and prodded at the back of your mind, like a gnat buzzing around your ear, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, like detrimentally wrong. It was the same feeling you got before a bad storm or when one of your wannabe assassins took a shot at you.

Dana had ushered you to a spot in the back of the large auditorium, and it wasn't until then you realized what was wrong, passing by a rather greasy-looking middle-aged man in a custodial outfit, your stomach curled in on itself hard enough to stop you in your tracks, his beady black eyes were scanning the room, specifically the entrances, you tilted your head as you tried to focus in on him, fighting off the headache at the sudden influx of thoughts, you pinched your thigh in an attempt to focus on the one mind, the uncomfortable sensation made you queasy, but you pushed through the pain and, as if a switch had been flipped, all the clutter fell into a dull whisper, the strange man's thoughts had become the loudest in the room, and what you managed to catch made the hairs on your nape stand on edge.

"About 140, 150 yuppies here maybe- that kinda body count will get us on the front page no doubt."

You nearly jumped in place as the rest of the room faded back in, your chest began to rise and fall as you stared the lanky man down, he fiddled with his pockets, and while you didn't know exactly what he was planning, his dark, heavy thoughts spoke for themselves. You took a deep breath before turning to face your friend.

"Oh damn, are you okay? Your nose." She said almost panicked, beginning to hastily search through her bag for a tissue, you brought a finger to your nose, and as she had said, crimson stained it. You wiped at your nose with the sleeve of your jacket, forcing your voice to be as calm as it could, "Don't worry, I get these randomly, s'no biggie." your casual tone managed to pacify her worries, Before she could continue to her seat, you racked your brain for the best plan of action.

You couldn't risk exposing yourself, not after how hard you worked to keep your nature in the shadows, but you also couldn't just do nothing, whatever this asshole had in mind ended in a body count, and from his wording, you knew he wasn't alone.

Muttering a quiet fuck it you turned her to face you.

"Okay, this is gonna sound batshit but everyone here is in danger." You spoke in an even tone, wide eyes flickering from the man to the exits. The look you held at that moment had her arms covered in goosebumps, something in your gaze sent a cold chill up her spine. Despite not having seen you for a few years, she knew you well enough to know you were deadly serious.

"What are you talking about? The assembly is about to start-" you placed your hands on her shoulders, her protest dying on her lips at the hard stare you gave her, "I need you to trust me okay? If we don't do something right now people will die- you understand? I know it sounds insane-but right now, I need you to believe me when I say these people gotta' get the hell outta here." She stared into your eyes for a second, weighing her options before she went with her gut and started nervously chewing her thumb, "Fuck- okay quickest way to get these people running is a fire alarm but you'll never cut through this crowd-"

Before she could finish you were scanning the room when your eyes found the little red box just slightly poking out from the curtain on stage, you twisted your hand, subtly near your chest, Dana caught a glance at the brief flash of red and not a second later, the shrill ring was screaming across the entire campus. For good measure, you twisted the sprinklers on the ceiling drenching the room and everyone in it in a flash. The added panic of water had almost everyone rushing to the exit.

"Go on, I'll be right behind you." You yelled over the loud alarm, arms stretching over one another, you watched her leave as you began to follow the foul mix of anger and anxiety that hung around that man, he seemed to rush in the opposite direction of the mob of students, as you stalked his aura like a bloodhound, Damian was busy trying to figure out what the hell just happened, one second he was finishing the last chapter in his book, the next he was covered in water, Jon winced at the alarm, the two sharing a look as their instincts kicked in.

"You smell a fire?" The green-eyed male asked his taller friend, Jon shook his head no, palms covering each ear, "Get out of here." Damian demanded, tossing what was no doubt an expensive coat on the soaked seat he once sat in, Jon opened his mouth to no doubt argue, but Damian stopped him with a raised palm, he had begun rolling up his sleeves as he dismissed him, "Something's up, and as long as that thing is blaring you're a liability- make sure everyone's out." Jon sighed through his nose and began to gently usher the stragglers her saw to the courtyard.

You had a curious look on your face as you stealthily followed the man's trail, you could feel the presence of several individuals behind the wall, pressing yourself against it, you heard the men's voices arguing with one another. 

"What the hell Tony? all you had to do was push a button! How'd ya manage to fuck that up?" The gruff man seemed to hit whoever this Tony was, "Me? I ain't do shit, one of you must have set off that damn alarm." The familiar voice of the greasy man from before responded, just as angry, "The pigs are comin' we should just bail before they get there-"

"Fuck that. I spent weeks planning, this was supposed to put us on the map!- no we're still blowing this bitch to high hell, we'll just have to get creative."

They began making their way towards the door so you quickly flew around a different corner, just in time as the door slammed open not a second later.

As you watched the scene, brow furrowing at the black duffle bag they gently carried out to the middle of the hallway, Damian was busy watching you. He'd been making his way around when he saw you looking rather suspiciously outside a door, the alarm had finally stopped so he could hear the loud voices shouting from inside the room, he felt the need to observe more before making his move, and he's so glad he did as you flew back toward him in a blur or crimson, you seemed so focused on the group of men he took the opportunity to try and subdue you.

The key word there being try because as he went to put you in a headlock you spun to face him with a swiftness he hadn't anticipated, with an oddly hypnotizing movement your hands flicked upward, he felt this unmovable pressure on his wrists, now pinned at his side against the wall, as he struggled a bit he took note of the shimmering ruby light surrounding his limbs, the same shade could be seen in your gaze as you stared at him, your eye's seemed to widen in recognition.

"Release m-" before he could finish you surprised him once more by pressing your soft palm against his mouth, he hated himself for the flush it brought up his neck, he'd been trained for these exact situations, but something about you was so enigmatic, he actually felt flustered. He resisted the urge to bite you, but that was made all the harder by you leaning over to whisper, "Quiet now pretty boy," you took a peek around the corner as the men had stopped to unload what looked to be a gaggle of homemade explosive devices, handing them out amongst their little group, "-that is unless you want to be blown up." he forced himself to ignore the way your tone and close proximity raised his heartbeat, "Now I'll let you go, but if you try to touch me again I'll knock your teeth into your stomach." You waited for him to nod before releasing him.

He all but jumped away from you, the sneer on his face falling a bit as he registered your words, "How many of them are there?" he rubbed at his wrists and pulled a small switchblade from his boot. "Four, but more importantly you should beat it, I can take em'." He scoffed, rolling his pretty green eyes as if that were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, "That's my line imbecile- get outside before you get yourself killed." You laughed at the man's audacity.

"I was doing just fine till' ya tried to jump me brat."

"I thought you were a criminal." he seemed to shrug it off, his brashness made you let out a huff of amusement, rubbing the bridge of your nose you shook your head.

"Right well," cracking your neck with a sigh, "I got some bad guys to break so if you don't mind." You moved to leave your hiding place before being stopped, the grip he had on your arm was firm, not painful. "Enough of this- You had a better view than I did so quickly, tell me what you know." you peeled his fingers away from your skin, throwing the hand off as if it had offended you, "Not a lot, just that they got what appears to be enough C-4 to turn this whole school into rubble and in the time it'll take me to explain to you how I know that, I can just stop em'."

"Can you do something about the lights?" He asked resigning himself to the fact that your stubborn ass wasn't going away anytime soon.

"Say please." You all but sang out, the teasing edge made him scoff once again, pooling even more of those wretched butterflies to his gut, he calmed his heart, and just as the bitter words formed on his tongue, a melodic laugh left your lips, "I'm kiddin' Whatever you're about to do I got your back." and with a cheeky grin, you snapped your fingers and the hallway was shrouded in darkness.

A collective cry of surprise came from the group, he took that as his cue to run up toward the largest man in the circle, he kicked off the wall to gain some height, bringing his elbow down on the man's head, he felt the big guy crumble under the pain, he then hit a pressure point on the back of the criminal's neck, putting him out of commission, seemingly panicked by the painful cry of their leader, a gunshot echoed out in the dark, briefly lighting up the hall well enough for him to see a shaking man holding a smoking firearm towards the last place he saw you.

A rage filled his chest, a true blood-boiling rage he hadn't felt since he was a boy, and while in the short time he'd known you, you were a certified pain in his ass, you were a pain in the ass civilian, enhanced or not. And you fell under his protection, quickly disarming the man, he brought his palm up harder than he needed to and broke the nose of the offender. He dropped low to avoid a punch, taking his blade he thrust it in between the bastard's knee, taking a twinge of joy from his broken wails.

A flash of red came from behind him, whispy strands of crimson curling around the remaining two panicked men's waists, in a move he could compare to someone playing ping-pong, he listened as you threw them against the walls, the impact so hard Damian swore he heard bones snap, the thought eased his anger immediately, and he shook away the confusing feelings as the lights flickered back on.

You stood over the unconscious bodies with a wild grin on your face, the two of you panting, he removed his knife from the knee of your would-be assailant and wiped it against his side, after tucking the blade away he made his way over to your visibly excited form.

"Hell of a first day huh?" He felt his lips curl at the strange woman before him, nodding as the familiar sounds of sirens flooded his ears, looks like he found a good reason to stick around this shit-show after all.

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

Part 13

I feel like we, as a society, don't talk about him at the British premiere of Anthropoid enough

Cillian rested his hand on your lower back and guided you towards the car. "Good evening Miss Zoe!" Joseph yelled through the front passenger side window. "Would you like us to drive your friend home as well?"

"Cillian turned around to her, where she sat on the curb on her phone.

"Dana, do you want a ride? Or did you call an uber - do you know uber can't go to Cillian's house??" Zoe said, sitting down in the backseat, leaving the door opened. Cillian made sure Zoe was situated and then made her way towards Dana.

"Hey, you good?" Cillian said, crouching down next to her. He wanted to reach out and put his hand on her shoulder for comfort, but decided against it. He didn't want people seeing and didn't want her to take it the wrong way.

"i'm okay, I'm gonna wait for uber" Dana mumbled.

"Cancel it, we'll drive you home" Cillian said. "How far are you?"

"Up that way" Dana pointed.

"Allow me to assist, Mr. Murphy, I can handle this and get her to the car" Joseph said, appearing at his side.

"Thanks, man" Cillian said, standing up. He watched as Joseph gently helped Dana up and walked her to the front seat of the car. Cillian slid into the backseat with Zoe. "maybe drive slow, Joe..." Cillian said, looking at the state of the girls. He was still so angry, but he knew any conversation with Zoe wouldn't be productive. He just wanted to get them both home safe and taken care of at this point.

Joseph drove to Dana's townhouse, which wasn't far from the bar at all.

Zoe sat in the backseat, part furious and part worried. She was mad that he showed up... even though she DID call him. She was worried because she knew once the two of them were alone, he wasn't going to be happy with her. She felt embarrassed and just wanted to go to bed.

Joseph stepped out of car and assisted Dana out of the car and walked her up the walk.

"Thank you, Joseph" Zoe said, rolling down the windows.

"I rather you guys get home safe, that's my top priority" Joseph said over his shoulder. They made their way up to the front door, and Zoe watched Dana dig through her purse for her key. She found it (Thank God - that's the last thing she would need) and saw her unlock the front door. She stepped inside and turned around and gave a wave to the car at Zoe.

Cillian felt a sigh of relief. He figured if she was coherent enough to unlock a front door, turn around and wave at the car and close the front door again, she could get herself to bed.

One down, one to go.

Joseph walked back to the car and started driving again.

"Joseph, you're the best. you're gonna be the best dad ever" Zoe said, leaning her head against the cold window.

Joseph smiled. "I already am a dad, two twin girls in separate colleges across the country. I worry every day. I just want them to be safe, and would hope someone would help them out if they ever drank this much"

At that moment Zoe knew angels existed and they wore black leather jackets and went by the name of Joseph.

After a grueling 20 minute car ride in silence, the car pulled up to Cillian's house.

"I don't live here" Zoe said, confused.

"Come on," Cillian said, getting out of the car and rounding the back to help her out her side. "Joe, thanks man. I owe you" Cillian yelled into the car.

"Anytime, sir" Joseph yelled back.

"Don't... ah forget it. We'll talk tomorrow. Get some sleep" Cillian said as he closed the car door.

Zoe stood there awkwardly. She did not know this night would end in a sleepover.

Cillian walked past her, making sure to lightly brush pass her as he made his way up the walk.

"What is this, high school?" Zoe said. "You're gonna shoulder bump me?? You gonna meet me on the football field after 3rd period for a throw down?!" Zoe said, stomping after him.

"Shhh!" Cillian said, opening the front door. "Just come inside please. I have nighbors"

Zoe walked in and went straight for the kitchen. "Where's Scout. I want to see Scout."

"Scout's sleeping... lucky him" Cillian said, walking to the cabinet and pulling out a glass. He stopped at the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, and then went to another kitchen cabinet which housed over-the-counter pain meds. He fished for the Ibuprofen, pulling it from the shelf and turning around to face Zoe. "Take two. Drink the entire bottle. Now." Cillian said.

"You know, Cillian, or should I say, 'Mr. Passive Aggressive,' you can't just boss me around like you control me. You're being such an asshole" Zoe said, ignoring the water and placing her had in her hands on the counter.

"Oh, name calling, this is gonna be a fun last couple of months" Cillian said out loud, to no one in particular. He then decided to get right into it. "How much did you tell your friend?"

"Everything" Zoe said, picking her head up ready for a fight. She couldn't see straight, but she was ready.

Cillian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes shut. "Do you know how bad this could be" he replied.

"Probably bad, but whatever. WHATEVER," Zoe repeated, getting loud.

"You don't get it! If your friend or sister blabs, Heather is going to call ME and I'm going to have to fix it. Can you at least pretend to care??" Cillian said, raising his voice as well. He immediately regretted it. He hated raising his voice, it reminded him of the fights with his ex. He hated that it got to this point, but he was frustrated.

Zoe felt her heart start to race. She swore she could feel her blood pressure rising.

"I don't care?" Zoe said, softly. "What did you just say to me?"

Cillian just looked at her. He had a feeling he said something wrong, and wasn't sure how to proceed.

"If you don't think I care, you're dumber than you make yourself out to be. Of course I care. I care too much. I feel like shit BECAUSE I CARE" Zoe said, getting loud again. "I have no idea what I'm doing. It's so much pressure, everyone's talking about me. I can't talk to any of my friends about it, and if I do I have to lie. And you, YOU of all people, I thought I could go through this together with you, at least be friends, a shoulder to lean on or something. But you're so hot and cold. We had a great couple of weeks with dinners and hanging out at my apartment, it was great, then suddenly we kiss at my apartment and now you cold shoulder me!!! The one person who is contractually obligated to spend time with me and make the world think we're dating, doesn't want anything to do with me. Do you have ANY idea how that makes me feel? What mood are you in this evening, Cill? Are you a friend? A stranger? I'd appreciate a heads up." Zoe said, going on a rant.

Cillian looked at his feet. "I know you're mad at me," He said slowly, wanting to make sure he spoke carefully. "I'm mad at me too. I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly. I should of apologized the minute I got home, but I didn't. I can't change that" Cillian said.

"Apologize for what? For kissing me? Just let me know, nothing can hurt me at this point" Zoe said, feeling tears in her eyes.

Cillian looked up to her. "I'll never apologize for kissing you. But I'm sorry I got spooked. And I'm sorry that I left. The second that phone rang my conscience kicked in and was yelling how this was supposed to be fake and end in a couple of months, and how much it would hurt once it ended. Us going our separate ways...I... I don't want to be hurt again like that Zoe" Cillian said sighing.

"Yea well, newsflash...if you have to hurt people to protect yourself, you're an.... an asshole" Zoe said, suddenly not feeling well.

Cillian could sense it. "You good?"

Here it is.

"Where's your bathroom?" Zoe said, starting to feel her body sweat. The room was beginning to sway and her mouth started to water; she knew what would happen next.

"Oh boy, come on" Cillian said, grabbing her hand and walking her down the hall.

Zoe made it just in time, raising the seat and dropping to her knees and throwing up into the toilet. Cill stood next to her, trying his best to ignore the sounds. He was wincing looking at her; she was throwing up so hard her back was arching into an uncomfortable position.

Zoe stopped for a couple seconds, and just from seeing the side of her face he could tell she was beginning to cry. She was nervous, drunk, she knew she was a sloppy mess, in a house that was too expensive for her, with Cillian Murphy. She was breathing heavy, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Shortly after, she felt the same feeling again, and began to throw up again.

Cillian hated seeing her like this. He could tell she was in pain... mentally and physically. He knew he played a part in the mental part, and that made him feel like shit. He knelt down besides her as she continued to puke.

"hey, it's okay" He said, rubbing her back. "Im here."

Zoe stopped finally, leaning against her arm that was resting on top of the toilet. She was exhausted and everything was blurry. She couldn't make out anything, but she could feel a hand on her back and faintly hear Cillian's voice.

"Just breathe... I'm here"

tags: @lau219 @wolfieellsworld @shopgirl6us

[kittiwittebane]

Obsessed with the roller skates / council boy Huntlow thing!

Accept this gift of mine💚💛

Basically Dana tweeted somthing bout FANART and willow in roller skates, hunter wearing this school representative council looking shirt. Willow= baddie. Hunter= stern but sweet.

So here’s a little thing.

_____________

Early morning sunshine danced through the quad of Hexside High School, brightening the mood of the area as it reached it's way into the hallways via windows.

Hunter looked down the hallway in pride. Clean as its ever been. He smiled to himself.

Right, another school will be here today so I have to keep this place looking-

"AHh- oOf!" Willow grunted as she fell over. Hunter turned around to find Willow, the only one who just will not follow the rules, upside down on the ground, in her usual dress code violation choice of clothing. White school shirt with the black pants and grey skirt, a large green bow on her shirt.

And her bright yellow rollerskates.

"Miss Park, you know you aren't allowed to wear those!" Hunter scoffed as he helped her up. She smiled at him and replied.

"Oh but Mr. Wittebane, I don't want to be late to class." She mocked him slightly, adding her usual playful tone into the mix. Hunter's ears went red

Titan-damn you. What have you done to me?

"Find another way." he remained stern, but Willow knew his mind was freaking out.

"Hmmm... no." Willow smirked, leaning up against him. "I don't think I will."

Hunter turned away as his blush tried to give him away.

"I could give you a detention at any time-"

"Do it." Willow snorted. "Go on."

Hunter paused. He looked at her and frowned.

"You have a lunchtime detention today." he said.

"And what if I don't show up." Willow asked, popping the 'p' sound. The blondie whined in annoyance. He couldn't even give her detention.

I DO NOT LIKE HER! He repeated to himself. That was a complete lie, he couldn't stop himself from seeing sparkles and bubbles around her, and he knew it, but he didn't want to admit it. He knew this is why she got away with breaking rules, he knew this is why she was so rebellious. She knew he couldn't get himself to throw her into detention. He hoped she didn't know why.

"Get to class!" he snapped, mad at himself more than her. She smirked, knowing she'd won the argument once again, and roller skated to class.

__LUNCH TIME

Willow rolled down the hallway.

"Miss Park you aren't allowed to wear-"

"This that all you know how to say?" Willow interrupted, giggling. Hunter rolled his eyes.

"It seems to be all I need to know how to say." He snapped. She giggled.

"Look, Blondie, you can throw me in detention, or you can sit there sulking. Do one." Willow challenged. Hunter growled lowly, knowing exactly which one he was going to end up doing. He looked at her sulkily, and she just smiled her usual 'I'm better than you' smile.

Or that's what Hunter thought it was.

She smirked at him before roller skating away to the cafeteria. Ugh! Why couldn't he do anything? The school would be perfect if he was just a bit less emotional. She was just a classmate! She was nothing more but another student that sat with him in classes! Nothing more, and never will be anything more. He leant up against the locker, silently cursing himself. After what he thought was five minutes but in reality was the entire 20 minutes, the class bell rang.

"Oh, I'm so stupid.." he hissed at himself. Third period and he forgot to eat, too busy thinking about how perfect he was without Willow.

He walked to class with a sulky look, knowing he did not want the school to be messed up before the other school comes. Surely one student couldn't mess up a whole school.. right?

He sat down in class, and Willow came and sat down next to him.

"You're grumpy." She commented. He whipped his head to her.

"I forgot to eat." He snapped quietly, not really feeling to interact at the current moment. Willow tilted her head to the side in confusion.

"Don't you pack lunch? Just eat in class, no one cares." Willow suggested. Hunter wanted to slap himself across the face.

"I do not pack lunch.. I feed off the cafeteria. It's fine, I don't eat over the weekend much anyways, I'll live." He muttered. Willows eyes went wide.

"You don't eat on the weekend?" She asked, alarm raking her voice unexpectedly, caught off guard by his statement.

"N-no I do! I just don't eat much." He explained. And what he meant by that was he stole leftovers from the cafeteria and took them home, which he eats on the weekend. And whatever edible plants he can find. Otherwise it was just bread and water.

"Oh." She started. She opened her bag and pulled out what looked like two pieces of bread put together.

"Have this." She smiled. Hunter looked at her, then the bread.

"Why are you being nice to me?" He asked.

"Why not?" She shrugged, putting the sandwich on his table. He looked at her, then the bread again. At least it was something...

He took a bit out of the bread and he had the most delighted look on his face. Willow wished she could've taken a photo. She'd never seen him smile before. Guess he liked chicken.

"Willow, what is this?" He asked, forgetting all about why he was grumpy in the first place.

"Chicken?" She answered. You could see the sparkles in Hunters eyes.

"I love chicken!" He exclaimed quietly, eating the rest of the sandwich very quickly. He looked like a puppy. His magenta eyes seemed bigger, and like they had sparkles in them. He had a smile she'd never seen, but really, she'd never seen him even smile before. She couldn't help but admire him. Out of context it would sound weird, admiring a cute guy eat a sandwich, but in context...

He looked back at her, who still had the head-over-heels look on her face, resting her face on her hand, rested against the table.

"You ok?" He asked.

"I've never seen you smile before." She said with a hint of dream in her voice, just to play with his feelings.

The look of realisation when Willow told him he was smiling sent butterflies through her stomach. He attempted to act all stern again.

"Thank you for the chicken-bread, Miss Park." He looked at her once again. She was smirking like crazy.

"Call me Willow, please." She purred. His face went a bit red, as did his ears. His cleared his voice and tried to catch up with the work he'd missed before the next bell rang.

“Also it’s called a sandwich, silly.” She smiled in amusement, as Hunter’s grumpy look returned after being corrected by her.

Should I do part 2?

Edit: just needed to add the fact the way Hunter looks is how Callum looks when he says “IM A MAGE!” In The Dragon Prince. Those eyes.

Also if you want more fluff like this, I have a Wattpad account:

@Kittimoonshadow

[thebisexualdogdad]

Landon Kirby x Male Reader. Where Male Reader gets angry at a school game, where their not suppose to use their powers, so their playing as 'regular' humans, but then their rival team ending up winning the game halfway through by playing dirty. Landon tries to get the Male reader calm and relaxed, by ordering/getting their favorite food from The Grill, getting Male Reader's dorm mate away for the night, and having a small movie date there?? With a sweet little kiss at the end??

Landon Kirby x Male!reader

*reader is a vampire*

You never cared for the annual Salvatore prep versus Mystic Falls high flag football game, the biggest reason being that your childhood bully Michael from the rivaling school always took it as another opportunity to torment you.

Of course if you guys used your powers you could easily win the game but like every other year you made a promise to not use any powers and act like ordinary teenagers.

Before the game started Michael was talking trash as always and Landon tried to stand up for you but Michael just laughed him off, "good luck out there losers."

"God I wish we could use our powers to kick their asses," you huff.

"Don't let him get to you, he's just being a jerk," Landon says, taking your hand and guiding you back to your friends who are strategizing for the game.

When the game starts Michael and the Mystic Falls kids are so obviously playing dirty and by the second half of the match most of your team is on the bench with injuries.

During a play Michael literally knocks Landon to the ground without the ball being anywhere near him.

"What the hell! Do you seriously not see this? They are purposely hurting people!" You yell at the ref running to Landon and helping him up.

The ref shrugs and Michael grins, turning his back to you.

You're ready to lunge at Michael and start a fight but Landon holds you back.

"It's okay he's not worth it," Landon tells you but all you want is to get back at Michael for messing with Landon.

You shake it off and help Landon who is now limping get to the bench.

"If they hurt anyone else we are gonna have to forfeit, we are all that's left," MG states.

"Then we should just use our powers and beat them at their own game," you say angrily.

"I'm down for that," Kaleb quips.

"No guys we can't, we promised not to use our powers," Landon retorts.

"I'm with Y/N on this one," Lizzie adds, "if they want to fight dirty then so can we."

"You only say that because you want bragging rights over Dana," Josie says and Lizzie rolls her eyes.

"Landon is right, we can't use our powers no matter how irritating they are. We just have to get through the last quarter and be done with this stupid game," Hope sighs.

"Fine but if Michael hurts one more person I'm draining him of all his blood after the game," you threaten, everyone knowing you are very serious.

You begrudgingly make it through the end of the game, Mystic Falls high winning by 10 points and of course Michael rubs it in your face that they won once again.

You don't say anything to him knowing if you opened your mouth your fangs would surely come out to bite him right at his jugular.

Looking around you can't find your boyfriend anywhere which doesn't help calm you down.

"Hey, have you seen Landon?" You ask Rafael who was icing his shoulder after being knocked out in the second quarter.

"Huh, no I haven't seen him since he got hurt, maybe he went to the nurse," Rafael responds.

You head straight to the nurses office with no Landon to be found so you pull your phone out to text him.

'Where did you go??'

'Meet me at your dorm in fifteen minutes'

'Okay why?'

'It's a surprise'

You go to your dorm and wait for Landon to return, when he does he has bags full of food in his arms.

"Did you really go to the grill?" You say grabbing the bags from him as he's still slightly limping.

"Yeah well I knew you were upset so I snuck off during the last quarter and went to town to get your favorite for dinner. Plus I told your roommate to sleep somewhere else tonight so we can have a relaxing movie date," he explains, grabbing your laptop and setting it up on your bed.

"You are truly amazing, you know that," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I don't like seeing my boyfriend upset," he tells you, "I thought maybe this might cheer you up."

"I already feel so much better," you smile, kissing him sweetly, "now let's start a movie already and eat, I'm starving."

[lolitystories]

Don't let me down 7 : Violets.

Many years ago, when Sara was a child...

“The answer to the question is…”

“B !”

Suddenly shouted a voice in the classroom.

"Yes, that's right, thank you Sara."

Said the mistress smiling at her.

Sara went back to work, very happy. If she continued to get good grades, she could go to the college she wanted after high school.

“...Tss… It’s the little nerd again, who answers…”

She heard the comment, but didn't respond.

At the end of class, she hurried to leave, on the next table was her classmate, slightly busy with her boyfriend.

“Eric, stop, everyone is watching us…”

Dana was with her boyfriend, Eric,

“Hey weirdo!”

He said, throwing his empty water bottle over her head, but she didn't turn around.

“Hey ! I'm talking to you."

“Stop… She’s going to denounce us, she’s the teachers’ little doggy…”

"Exactly…"

As soon as Sara left, Eric had a bad idea in mind, which he whispered to his girlfriend.

"We should teach her a little lesson, don't you think?"

**

"Are you sure you want to go?"

Her father asked.

"Yes ! Everyone will be there, I want to go too.

She said, overjoyed.

She put on her prettiest dress and made up, she felt pretty, happy… Ready to make friends and have fun.

His classmates had told her that they were going to have a little party, at Eric's house, everyone was invited.

They were just kids. What could go wrong ?

When she arrived, she was greeted by Dana, but everyone froze, seeing her enter. The music was cut off and the students circled around her, whispering.

"...Hello… Everybody."

They let Eric and his group pass.

"Look everybody, it's the genius of the class !"

“...”

“Tell me Sara, do you enjoy looking down on us ?”

"Eh ? No, I don’t look down on anyone…”

"Ah good ? So why do you always stay in your corner ? Do you think you have something special ? That you are better than us ?”

"No… No… I’m just… Shy…"

“I didn’t hear that well…”

“I… I…”

Sara stepped back, but the crowd prevented her from going very far.

Suddenly, she felt something cold running over her head.

"That…"

The students, began throwing paint at her face, staining her dress and her face.

"No ! Stop !”

"What ? I think it suits you quite well !”

Eric burst out laughing, and everyone did the same.

Dana and a few other students watched the scene a little further.

"...Don't you think...She's had enough ?"

“I think it goes too far…”

“And then she might tell that to our parents...”

Dana sighed and walked forward.

“...Okay, that’s it guys. It's good."

She said, stopping them.

After that, she helped her clean up in the bathroom.

“...You're not going to tell the teachers, are you? I… It wasn’t my idea.”

"I wouldn't say anything."

“...”

“I don’t want to get hit.”

“...It was just a joke, they wouldn’t have hurt you.”

“...”

**

“Hi sweetie ? How was the party ?"

"...Great."

"Really ? Did you have a water fight?”

"Yes."

“...Is this…”

"That was great mom !"

“Okay… Um, your grandma is here.”

“Great, she came to tell me again how much she hates me !?”

She said, before locking herself in her room.

At that time, she didn't know that was the last time she would speak to her.

Several years later, Dana left Eric, who was becoming too violent for her liking, to form a relationship with Gabriel. He was kind and madly in love, he did everything she wanted... But then she heard about his brother, Miguel.

“He’s a genius… And he received a scholarship to Alchemax ?”

“Yes, my brother has always had a gift, you will see, I will introduce him to you soon.”

"...I hope so."

**

Fate made her meet Sara again... And she couldn't allow her past with her to ruin her chances with Miguel.

“Sarah…”

“...”

“I'm sorry for…”

“No, it doesn’t matter, we were kids back then…”

“Yes… But that doesn’t excuse what I did to you.”

She had tears in her eyes.

“When I think back to what they did to you…”

"...It's okay... I forgive you."

“I… Would you mind if we try to be friends?”

“...”

**

Following Sara's advice, Miguel was going to try to get Dana back, but before he could even do so, he had a strange surprise at work.

“Dana ? What are you doing here ?"

“I came to visit my darling…”

“...”

“I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about Tyler.”

“Tyler ? You mean, Tyler Stone ?”

"Yes."

“But… Isn’t he a little… Old, for you ?”

She frowned.

“No, actually… He gives me everything you could never give me.”

At these words Miguel laugh.

“What’s so funny ?”

“Nothing… It’s just… I finally see what my brother meant.”

“...”

“You know… I wondered, would you even have been interested in me, if I hadn’t been approached by Alchemax.”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“Was it me you loved ? Or what I owned ?”

“...”

“If I were nobody, if I had a job like any other, in a small house, if I was…”

"What ? If you were what ?...”

"Me…"

"...Honestly Miguel, you've always been... A coward, a terrible brother, a horrible son, a horrible boyfriend, but lately all I see..."

“...”

"Is a monster."

With these words, she left.

“I’ll come by and pick up the rest of my stuff.”

**

“Are you going to resign from Alchemax ?”

Gabriel asked him.

"Yes... There's nothing left for me there, with Sara we're going to take Stone down, if we collect all the evidence, it'll be over."

“...”

"Yes I know, it's a bad idea, I'm going to find myself with nothing, I couldn't even live in my old apartment anymore but..."

“No… This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“...”

“You know… For a while, I thought I had lost my brother.”

“Gabi…”

“But I’m glad to see you’re still here.”

He couldn't help but smile.

“So… Dana will probably be there tomorrow, with Stone…”

“Yes… Besides, that makes me think, I have to find a date, I don’t know with who Sara is coming.”

"It's incredible…"

Gabriel sighed.

“Yes… She quickly moved on.”

“No…I’m not talking about that.”

"What ?"

“You are a genius, maybe even one of the smartest people in the world and yet, when it comes to understanding a human being, you are truly the worst…”

“...What is that supposed to mean ?”

“First of all… You should buy some flowers.”

That same evening, there was a knock on Sara's door.

She was wearing pink pajamas with a bunny logo, her hair was tied in a bun.

“Miguel?”

He was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“...”

“I just thought about the fact that I never really thanked you for what you did for me these last few months...”

“...”

“I…I was wondering, do you have a date for tomorrow ?”

“...”

Oh no, he broke her.

After a few seconds, she took the bouquet and looked at it carefully.

“Thank you very much, they are beautiful.”

A tender smile lit up her face.

“Violets?”

“They made me think of you…”

She laughed and invited him in.

“Your new costume is ready if you want to try it on.”

“Thank you and sorry for bothering you every time.”

"You do not bother me."

She went to place the flowers in a vase.

**

Meanwhile... A man was running from the police. He had just committed a terrible crime, the murder of his girlfriend and several innocent witnesses.

For some time now, his life had become hell and although he tried to regain his past glory, the world itself seemed to hate him...

After being shot, he fell, which should have been fatal. But once again, he was not given the slightest respite. Even in pain.

He dragged himself until he reached the sewers. He was definitely going to die here, without anyone worrying, not even his own parents, who abandoned him after he was kicked out of college.

Even Alchemax didn't want him anymore... They all abandoned him... His friends, his girlfriend...

Oh... All that... Everything that happened to him was because of them...

It was then that a soaked article ran along the dirty water in front of him, the title was still visible...

It talked about the Alchemax reception which would take place tomorrow and the new partner of the director of the company...

“Dana?...”

**

The evening of the reception…

...Sara didn't like these kinds of evenings, it reminded her too much of the end of year party... In the stories, the young girl who is uncomfortable in her own skin becomes pretty on the night of the ball... But only in the tales…

When she opened the door, her eyes were on the floor, not daring to meet his gaze.

She wore a white dress, the color code for the party. Light makeup and her hair straightened, with a small strand hanging in front of her eyes.

When she received no response, she timidly raised her head.

Miguel looked at her with bright eyes, a light blush starting from his neck and slowly rising to his face.

“...Hey.”

He recovered.

“Hey… You look… Very beautiful.”

“Thanks, I thought I should look a little pretty tonight.”

"No…"

“...”

“You always have been.”

Saying this, he fixed her lock of hair.

“...”

Sara's throat tightened, she looked him straight in the eyes, he looked back at her.

He timidly reached out his hand to take hers.

"Are you ready ?"

"Yes."

He took her to the car.

When they arrived at the reception, Dana was in the best seat, right next to Tyler Stone. When she saw her ex arriving at Sara's side, she stared at them, but they didn't notice her all evening.

The duo did not take their eyes off each other...

During the waltz, they took advantage of the commotion to slip away. They activated the new watch that Sara and Lyla had created and in an instant, they went from their beautiful outfits, to their hero costumes.

“I’ll start on the ground floor, you take the first floor ?”

"All right."

She was about to leave, but he took her hand.

"Be careful."

She smiles at him.

"You too."

**

“Are you sure she likes violets, Lyla?”

Miguel asked.

*Yes, it’s the least you can do, after everything she’s done for you and they’re perfect!*

"For what ?"

*Nothing… I just think it’s a very nice gift. Purple is her favorite color after all.*

But she had already done her research.

In the language of flowers, “violets” also meant “I love you secretly”.

Back to masterlist - Previous chapter - Next chapter

[go-foxes]

"It is cool," they agree. "She, uh—didn't come last year." And even after the tail end of high school, it still feels strange to want Dana at their Exy games. She never came back in Indiana; River's parents didn't either. They never would have wanted them to: Exy felt like something that was theirs, then, the only thing in their life that was good. And it was good because it was separate from their family, from the life that they lived in the double wide.

Not like Kai, who seems like he grew up with his whole family entangled in Exy in a way that River can hardly even imagine. Unlike the delicate dance that River did with Dana, where they were afraid to invite her in case she didn't want to come, and she would never have asked to visit because she didn't want to feel like she was imposing on something that was just theirs, River bets that Kai didn't even have to ask their parents to come. It was all probably just—assumed. A given. Because that's what families did.

"She's coming from New York, yeah," they say, and it gives them a small pang of pride. It feels like a better place to be known from than Indiana, like a place that the new River is from, rather than the River that they left back home. "Well, Brooklyn. I'm guessing you probably didn't make it out there on your trip. But—we've also got a bridge. That's all I really know about the Bay Area."

Maybe it would sting, admitting that they haven't been to the Bay Area, that they haven't been much of anywhere that isn't where they went last year with the Foxes, holding onto the chip on their shoulder that came from growing up in a trailer park, but it feels a lot easier to admit when the place they go home to now is New York. Their home used to feel like a coffin, like the walls were closing in on them a little bit more each day they stayed there with their parents; now, they have a whole city at their fingertips, a place that feel big and expansive and like there's nothing they can't be.

"Lead the way," they say, making a sweeping gesture down the hallway with the bag in their hand. "And tell me about your parents. Do they like—brunch? I'm pretty sure I saw that there's a brunch."

Kai grins, relieved he isn't the only one putting last minute touches onto his dorm room. It's a little silly—his parents always approached Katie and Kai's rooms with an air of casualness, letting them sprawl out as much as they pleased provided the mess stayed within the confines of their own space. He doubts they're expecting his room to be any different now, especially when there are three other teenaged boys crammed into it too.

"That's cool she's visiting," Kai says. When it comes to the Foxes, he still hasn't figured out what he's supposed to dance around, and what he can admit to. He watched plenty of Fox interviews this summer like he was cramming for a test. As much as they blurred together, he remembers the highlights. River's spoken about their sister, for example, Kai knows that much. From that interview, it makes sense that she's the one visiting over River's parents.

Somehow, though, it feels like those interviews were for fans, not incoming Foxes. It's one thing to know that about some distant Exy player, a possible future opponent—it's another to have that knowledge of the person in front of him, especially when it puts them on uneven footing. It feels like Kai knows more about River than they do about him, even if that isn't really fair. He knows what River puts out in the world, in their interviews: it's not the same as knowing them.

"From New York, right?" he adds, testing the waters. That feels further away than it really is, now that Kai's already thousands of miles from home. New York still feels like it should be on the other side of the country, the opposite coast to his own. "We went over winter break, once. I mostly remember it being uh, cold," he says, lamely. "But the snow was pretty cool. We don't get much of that in the Bay."

He nods towards their own trash bag, River caught in the same last minute clean up act. "Wanna walk to the dumpsters together? We can brainstorm things for the family to do."

[writingfics-passingtime]

The Perfect Alibi

~12,100 words of (AG/TASM) Peter Parker x reader fluff

Pairing: Peter Parker x female reader

CW: Swearing, blood/wound, alluding to (Gwen’s) death

If you went back less than two years and told your fresh-out-of-high-school self that you’d soon become the fake girlfriend of a vigilante, you’d… well, to be honest, you’d probably have found it cool.

Maybe ‘cool’ wasn’t the right word. More… unconventional.

It was the perfect arrangement. You both got exactly what you needed: an excuse, a reason, a justification for your actions.

It’s a ruthless, cutthroat job market out there and, after getting a full-ride scholarship Columbia University, which was widely regarded as the best school for science in New York, you knew these next four years were for focusing hard, studying harder, and getting the best grades possible. Bonus if those grades got you valedictorian.

Sure, maybe it had been a pipe dream to be valedictorian of your class but after topping almost all of your freshman courses, you gained more confidence in that crazy idea that you could just maybe do it. It would look stellar, unbeatable even, on job applications. Hell, maybe you wouldn’t even have to apply, and they’d all come crawling to hire you.

You’d created a list (found in the back page of your journal which you only wrote the most important things in) of non-negotiable ways to ace the college life.

1. No dating

2. No drugs/alcohol

3. No dating

4. Find like-minded friends, keep the circle small

5. NO DATING!!!

6. Don’t skip class under any circumstances. Even if you’re dead.

The list was your bible, and it had clearly served you well. However, at the beginning of your sophomore year… it started. The few close friends you’d made, Dana especially, starting probing into why you never dated. There were admittedly a number of people on campus you found attractive, some of them you even had a spark with, but you suppressed any emotion, snuffing any potential flame before it started. Whenever you tried to explain that your high-school relationship had almost cost you your SAT results due to the distraction of it, Dana and Sam would wave it off as you being a dumb teenager and point out that you‘re clearly better adjusted now, if not having gone too far in the opposite direction.

They pestered and pestered, obviously with their hearts in the right place but you were getting to the point where you were nervous that showing up to hang out with them would result in you being tricked into a blind date - that’s how persistent they were. They’d tell you whenever someone asked whether or not you were single, and you’d, without fail, say “Tell them I’m not available.” You were met with eye-rolls, admonishing stares, the occasional begging for you to give them a chance. You held firm. Half a semester into your sophomore year, they started worrying about you a little more, asking if you were nervous about dating, if you’d give it shot, did you not like anyone? It was okay if you didn’t. They just wanted you to be happy, not at all understanding the pressure you were under to keep your grades up to keep your scholarship. Almost at the breaking point, you considered going on just one date to shut them up for a while.

Then, one night, the perfect solution climbed through your window.

It was lucky your roommate’s girlfriend lived ten minutes from campus, effectively rending your room a single-person dorm. Seriously, you could count on one hand the number of nights Olivia spent in the dorm with you (and none of them were very pretty, considering she’d only sleep in her own bed when she and Remi were fighting). This particular night, all was well with their love so Liv was nowhere to be seen. It was early, around 2:00am, when someone jimmied open the latch on your fourth-story window.

You held your breath, dead silent, as your fingers closed around the Louisville Slugger aluminium bat you hadn’t used since you were nine but brought to college specifically for this reason. The blood pounded in your ears, your heart felt like it’d jumped into your throat, blocking any potential scream as the window between the two single beds slid open. A small grunt, a cough, a wheeze, then, a loud CLUNK brought a yelp through your lips as a tall, masked figured tumbled over your bedside table and onto your floor. The groan of pain told you he was injured, and the dim glow of the safety streetlights dotting the pavement outside illuminated the blue, the red, the webbed patterns, and you dropped the bat from shock. It fell in a muted clang to the floor beside the bed, ricocheting and softly whacking Spider-Man in the head.

“A-are you okay?” You gasped, instantly falling to your knees beside him. “You’re Spider-Man,” you stated the obvious, reaching up and scattering your hand around the beside table until you switched on the lamp. Once you did, another gasp left your lips when the brighter light revealed a large strip of blood pooling around his abdomen. “Can you hear me?” You took his masked head in your heads, looking at the blood stain slowly creeping, growing. He only responded with a groan. “Look, I-I know your identity is a secret so you can keep the mask, but you’ve gotta let me check out this wound.”

He groaned again, turning his head to look up at your face properly. “Oh man,” he breathed out, then tried to sit up. “Oh man, oh man,” he winced and grabbed his side, just at the bottom of the blood patch.

“I know first aid,” you let him sit up. “Look, I’m really not trying to-”

“I’ve gotta get outta here,” he coughed again, shakily planting one foot on the ground. “Wrong window, oh man.”

You winced, huffed and grabbed the first-aid kit from the bottom shelf of your bedside table, holding it up to show him. “Seriously, you can keep the mask on, but we have monthly dorm inspections and I can’t explain that much blood on my carpet without looking like a serial killer.” The frantic words tumbled through your lips in one long breath as you desperately hoped you weren’t going to have to report a dead vigilante in your room. Your chest heaved as you gestured to the drops making their way through his suit and splattering at his feet.

“Sorry- sorry!” He placed his other hand on his side as well, before looking over at your raised blinds. In a second he’d whipped up his wrist, shot a web at the cord, then yanked it down to cover your window. He looked down again at the blood, and you threw a towel to him. “Uh, thanks,” he winced again, “Ah, ah, ahhhh,” he breathed out, applying pressure to the patch. He sounded young.

“Will you let me see?”

He looked back up at you, and a small shift of his head to look at the first aid kit you’d opened told you he was considering it, then a lowering of his head and shoulders told you he’d resigned himself to it. “That would be nice,” he laughed nervously. “Man, sorry, you must’ve been so freaked out… some weird guy falling through your window. I promise I’m one of the good guys.”

Your mouth twitched into a nervous, wry smile as you beckoned for him to pull out the office chair which sat nestled in the desk at the edge of your bed. Having only gone to sleep an hour or two before after a night of trying to figure out the same damn physics question, your notes and failed attempts were strewn about the light oak desk. It was extra credit, to be fair, but the fact that it’d kicked your ass for four hours straight was enough for the sight of it to be discouraging.

“Mind the mess,” you sniffed, pulling Liv’s barely-used chair over to sit next to the vigilante. He turned his head as one hand went up to tug at a zipper on the back of his suit, just above the base of his neck.

“Looks complicated,” he said slowly, looking more intently as he worked the upper-half of his suit off his body, leaving his mask in-tact.

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, biting your lip to distract from the heat pricking at your cheeks when he revealed his very toned chest and abdomen. “Something isn’t clicking. I’ll have another shot at it tomorrow and- ooh, ouch,” you let out a puff of breath as the five-inch gash was revealed. “Mind if I…?”

He nodded, “It doesn’t feel too deep. I can web it up.”

“Somehow that doesn’t seem sanitary,” you mumbled, shifting your glance upward to give him another wry smile, this one a bit more shy. “Does that stuff come out of you?” He laughed, which made you smile wider and blush as you picked up a cleaning pad and some rubbing alcohol from the kit. “Well, it didn’t seem like a stupid question.”

“No, you’re clearly not stupid,” he tilted his head, and something told you he was smiling behind his mask. Maybe you heard it in his voice.

“This is gonna sting,” you said, saturating the pad. “But judging by the news footage I’ve seen, you’ve got a pretty high pain tolerance.”

“They always show the videos of me getting my ass kick- AH!” He flinched with a sharp intake of breath when you pressed the pad directly onto his cut.

“Or maybe you don’t,” you teased. Which seemed impossible, right? Was this some kind of fever dream? Surely it wasn’t possible for Spider-Man to have accidentally stumbled into an Columbia dorm of all places. “Focus on my physics question,” you joked as you cleaned the wound, trying to assess how deep it was. You searched your brain for the information you’d learned at those first-aid courses, and came to the conclusion that it would probably be okay without proper medical attention. “At the risk of killing the best vigilante in the country, I think a bandage will do,” you looked up at him again, to find him focused on your question. He shifted the papers with his elbow, careful to not get blood on your notes, then you saw him lean in a little more. Taking the chance while he was distracted, you cleaned the wound completely and ripped open two large gauze pads.

“Your rounding isn’t wrong,” he suddenly spoke and you paused, moving your gaze from his gash to his mask. He looked at you for a second and then sighed, nodding back at the paper. “You wrote here, “rounding incorrect decimal?” … nah, that’s not it.”

“But my answer is so close to the one given. It’s only out by a fraction of a whole number. How could it not be a rounding issue?”

“These readings were taken in Antarctica, right?”

“Yeah, so? Centrifugal force on a sphere is-…” Then, it clicked. You let out a frustrated sigh. “Dahammit,” you whined and collapsed back into the chair. “Of course… the Earth isn’t a perfect sphere so it-”

“Centrifugal force isn’t the same around the globe, yeah. Something I’ll need to remember if I ever need to go up and take down Santa.”

“Right,” you scoffed a laugh and shook your head. As you placed the bandages, something occurred to you. He was good at science. He was on campus. He climbed in your window, clearly by accident. He sounded young.

He… could he?

It didn’t seem polite to ask. It didn’t seem like something you had the right to know-

“I gave it away, didn’t I?”

He said it solemnly but he didn’t sound upset. You took your lower lip between your teeth, not quite responding, just sticking the medical tape to his skin.

“Where’s your roommate?”

“She’s never here.”

You ripped off another piece of tape, swallowing thickly. He must go here. Maybe you knew him. Was this going to be a problem?

“Lucky. Mine will be back by now.”

You held your breath as you packed away the stuff. Your hands shook slightly, your nerves getting the best of you as you avoided looking up at his mask. Sensing your unease, he reached out a placed a gentle hand on your forearm.

“Can this stay between us?”

You paused, nodding furiously. “I’m good with secrets.”

“And with first-aid.”

“Sixteen-year-old me was considering med school.”

“What happened?”

“I’m too squeamish.”

He let out a surprised laugh and let go of your arm, and that whole thing kind of broke the tension. You half-grinned as you stood and replaced the kit underneath your bedside table.

“Thank you,” he stood and replaced the suit on himself with some effort.

“Thank you,” you stammered, turning back to him. “My uncle. He, uh, owns a small bodega in Queens. The last three Thanksgivings he tells the family how the heroic Spider-Man saved him from an armed robbery.”

He paused, only for a second, before zipping the suit back up behind him. “I’m glad I could help.” His voice was sincere, if not a bit abashed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone this story. It’s the least I could do to help someone who’s actually making a difference. And, um, I might have some of my older brother’s clothes I stole if you need to change before going back into your dorm.”

You both stood in silence for a few long moments after you spoke the quiet part out loud.

“I’ve got a pack stashed on the roof.”

“Good,” you nodded, crossing your arms in front of your pyjama top. “I take it you’ll be going out the window considering boys aren’t allowed on this floor after 11pm?”

He hung his head, but you heard a small chuckle, which made you need to suppress a cheeky smile.

“Thanks for the reminder.”

You stood aside as he approached, letting him pass you. He removed the webs from your blinds and switched off your lamp before letting the fabric fling up into its rolled-up position. He crawled out the window and just before he closed it again, he turned to you, that smile evident in his voice, and said:

“I’ll see you around.”

There wasn’t really a hope of easily going back to sleep after that encounter. You actually had half a mind to march yourself down to the medical unit to get checked out, wondering if you’d studied too hard and given yourself hallucinations to make life less math-y.

You managed to catch an hour or two of sleep before your alarm went off, and when you planted your feet on the floor your eye immediately caught the droplets of blood on the carpet. It had happened. Spider-Man had been in your room, you’d patched him up, he said he’d see you around. He practically admitted to being a student here. Which was crazy. Insane. How on earth- why on earth...?

There was too much going on in your brain, too much to process, so you used his helpful hint to distract yourself with scurrying through the final stages of the physics question still strewn across your desk (thankful to see it was free of any bloodstains). Using the hint he’d given you, you cracked it in just under half an hour; just enough time to frantically brush your teeth in the shower, throw on some warm casual clothes, sling your bag over your shoulder and rush out the door as you shuffled the work into a folder as best you could.

If you walked fast you’d make it slightly early, which is how you liked to be, but this time, as you made the trek to your nine a.m. lecture, you found your eyes darting between every tall, slender, male student you saw. He could be any one of them, and everyone around you was none the wiser.

When one guy made eye contact with you, your breath caught in your throat and the immediate feeling searing through your gut was that it had to be him. But when you looked away, then looked back, he‘d turned his attention elsewhere. He looked a bit too tall anyways.

Physically shaking your head and blinking hard before you entered the lecture hall, you took a deep breath in. The second you stepped inside, you released it in overwhelming thankfulness - a sleepy grin came to your cheeks when you saw Dana and Sam sitting in your usual three, Sam beckoning you over with an extra cup on her writing desk. You trudged over, while trying to make it look like you weren’t trudging, but your best friends were too perceptive.

“Holy shit, dude,” Dana laughed, somewhat nervously. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Not really,” you mumbled, sliding in next to Sam, resisting the urge to kiss her passionately in thanks for the coffee she’d brought you, making sure to not accidentally kick the guy at the seat in front of you.

Sam sipped her coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright? Liv and Remi aren’t fighting, are they?”

“No… no,” you shook your head and wrapped your fingers around the coffee. You’d promised him. “This extra credit question got the better of me and I lost track of time. I figured it out, but I barely slept.”

“I suppose it was a pipe dream to hope that you’d been up late texting someone…” Sam sang, taking a rather sassy sip of her coffee.

“Or, you know, making out with them,” Dana tossed in, opening her laptop as the professor entered the room.

You laughed through your nose as you swallowed your own life-giving sip. “When have I ever given you two even and inch?” You pulled your own laptop out. “I’m not dating in college. End of story.”

“We’ll find you someone you can’t refuse.”

“Please don’t.”

“One date?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you.” The three of you looked down to the brown-haired guy who’d taken the seat directly in front of you. He smiled sheepishly and held out his empty hands. “I kinda forgot a pen. Do you have one I can borrow?”

He was looking directly at you, which made you furrow your brow in question as to why he was only asking you, but you were barely there, so in an automatic movement you reached into the outer pocket of your bag, “Uh, yeah, of course,” you smiled back and handed him a pen. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, but it was more like a little grin, and it lingered for a second or two before the professor cleared his throat and began the class.

As you opened your notes document Sam nudged your elbow with her own. When you looked over, you were met with very enthusiastic wide-eyed friends who were mouthing “HE’S CUTE.” Instead of indulging them in yet another reason as to why they should respect your “No,” you rolled your eyes and turned your attention to the matter at hand: mechanical waves.

It was a gruelling three hour morning lecture slot, thankfully with a fifteen minute break in the middle of it to stretch your legs, refill water bottles, go to the bathroom, perhaps brave a mad dash to the closest coffee cart. Today, however, once the boy who’d borrowed your pen had absconded to do one of those things, Dana and Sam cornered you in your seat before you had much of a chance to stop them.

“He’s so cute,” Sam whispered loudly. “Did you see how he looked at you?!”

“Who doesn’t have a pen?” Dana scoffed excitedly.

Sam cut in, still looking at you. “Everyone has a pen.”

“He wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“Or,” you ducked your head to the side. “He forgot his pen.” Before they could protest you help up a hand and declared you were braving that mad-dash, asking if they wanted anything. They declined, both with stern glares, so you chuckled and rushed out of the room.

The closest coffee cart was only a two minute power-walk, so the trick was beating the rest of the people who had the same idea. The line only had a few people in it by the time you got there, one of them being the boy who borrowed your pen. He was directly in front of you, but didn’t turn to see who’d taken the spot behind him. That was probably for the better, considering your head was so full of equations you doubted your ability to have any kind of social interaction. In no time, he was at the front.

“I’ll have uhhh, double espresso and,” he turned to you. “Whatever she’s having.”

“Oh!” You shook yourself out of an equation. “You don’t have t-”

“Consider it rent for the pen,” he chuckled. “Hurry up, these people need their caffeine.”

“Black,” you blurted out. “Black, no milk, no sugar. Thanks,” you smiled and rubbed your arm self-consciously as the boy paid and thanked the barista for the coffee. He held them both in his hands as he stepped several feet away from the line, forcing you to follow him to receive your drink. You held in a sigh, hoping this very nice boy wasn’t about to ask you out.

“One black coffee,” he smiled, handing it to you.

You slipped the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before taking it. The cups at these places were always too thin. “Thanks, but… you really didn’t have to do that. It’s just a pen.”

When you met his eye, you saw him take a nervous breath in, release it, his face softened but like someone who had to deliver bad news. Something about his demeanour, his voice, his posture - you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head in curiosity.

“Then, uh… consider it an apology for the blood on your carpet.”

The blood in your own body immediately drained from your face, somehow still pounding in your ears, in your throat, even in your hands and feet. Your stomach surged with a sickly anxiousness as your chest heaved and you tried breathing through your nose.

“Hey, hey,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and you flinched, too rooted in your spot to take the backwards step you so desperately internally screamed at your foot to perform. You’d always had a hell of a flight instinct, but a bitch of a freeze response. “Are you okay? Sorry, that’s a lot to drop on you- I’m an idiot- sorry, sorry,” he ducked down to try catching your gaze as you calmed yourself down enough to brave looking up at him again. He had such kind eyes.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” you whispered.

“I know,” he removed his hand from your shoulder. “I heard your friends earlier. Thank you,” he nodded earnestly. “That means a lot.”

“Y-you didn’t have to show me your face.”

“I know, but…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, this is gonna sound so stupid but it sounded so good in my head- I had this idea when I heard your friends talking - which, I wasn’t eavesdropping by the way, or not trying to, it kinda just happens with the whole spider thing - but I heard them giving you a hard time and I just thought-”

“I’m gonna need you to get to the point before I throw up.”

He froze, then let out the remainder of his breath. “Hear me out.” He gestured to you, “You have friends who won’t get off your back about dating,” he started.

Well, there came the blood returning to your face; the superhero knew you were an antisocial dweeb.

He then pointed to himself, “I have a roommate who keeps asking where I go so late at night.”

The second he’d spoken it aloud, it made sense. It made perfect sense. You instantly relaxed, which made him relax. Your head turned to the side in thought, a bit of a mischievous smile coming to your cheeks, despite all odds, and you admitted, “I like where this is going.”

You two shared a look, both fighting the excitement of the potential arrangement. He truly was a hero.

Other students began making their way back to the lecture theatre and so you two walked back together, whispering between yourselves, exchanging names. His name was Peter. Peter trusted you, and he knew he could give you what you needed, and you could give him what he needed. Ultimately, you both needed the same thing:

An alibi.

“I have a plan,” he grabbed your arm just before you two came into the line of sight of the people inside the hall.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see,” he nodded. You gave him a look. “Just- don’t tell them I bought your coffee.”

With that, he slipped past you and into the room. “Peter!” You called after him in a loud whisper, but he was already gone. You gave yourself a moment to laugh at the absurdity of this entire thing, ponder your existence, and make a good case as to why you really should go to the medical wing for a psych evaluation because no way in hell was this happening.

But there he was, sitting at the seat in front of you, twirling the pen expertly. You wondered if he was one of those people who’d looked up how to do the pen tricks in class, or if it was a result of the whole Being Spider-Man Thing.

Just like sleeping the night before, focusing in class was some unobtainable pipe dream. This time you didn’t try forcing it upon yourself, instead giving yourself a gentle reminder that you could always listen to the recording later and it was okay to be kind of freaking out about this.

Peter seemed calm. Far too calm for someone who just revealed their secret identity to someone he’s met literally one time before. He seemed so sure… maybe there was some kind of super-intuition to go along with his powers. God, his powers. How did he get them? How long has he had them? Did he seek them out, or was it an accident? A billion questions raced through your mind, unlike the professor’s voice which went in one ear and out the other, and you couldn’t stop wondering how it all worked and if you’d ever be able to ask him.

Time flew as you zoned out of the teaching and in no time everyone around you was making to pack up their things. Peter stood up and turned to where you were closing your laptop lid. He placed the pen on your table and slid it towards you, leaving his hand on top of it.

“I owe you one,” he smiled.

Your heart pounded as you locked eyes with him, your tongue subconsciously slipping out to wet your nervous lips. “I-it’s just a pen,” you repeated the earlier sentiment.

“Yeah, but,” he shrugged. “Who knows, if I hadn’t taken those notes I might have failed this class and flunked out and ended up in some dead-end job I hate, no hope of happiness in my career or paying off my now-useless student loans…” he let himself trail off. You laughed once through your nose and suppressed a grin as best you could as you reached over and took the end of the pen his hand wasn’t covering.

“So you’re saying I saved your life?”

“You’re a hero,” he smirked knowingly. “The least I could do is buy you a coffee.”

You nodded to the table next to you, “I have a coffee.”

“Dinner, then.”

You laughed from pure surprise, and maybe a little bit from the nearly inaudible squeak you heard leaving Sam’s mouth as she turned away and poorly pretended that she wasn’t listening. Oh, he was good. You narrowed your eyes at him for a few moments before letting your smile turn mischievous and you tugged the pen from his grasp.

“Considering I saved your life… it better be a nice dinner.”

Needless to say, Sam and Dana damn near exploded when you three left the room together. You were grinning, caught in a flurry of fanatical friends declaring how proud they were of you, how cute he was, what were you going to wear?! Did you want Sam’s help doing makeup? She’s really good at it and she wouldn’t make it look too much and-

“Guys,” you laughed, hoisting your bag higher. “It’s no big deal. It’s one dinner.”

“No big deal?!” Dana whisper-shouted. “You just said yes to a date.”

“With a really cute guy!”

“Yeah, and I’m sure it’ll be nice and fun, he seems cool,” you smiled and checked your watch. “I need to get to Bennett’s office hours but I’ll catch you guy later.”

They begrudgingly let you go, walking off together while chatting about lunch.

On your way to Professor Bennett’s office, you tried making those extra credit notes just a little bit tidier, letting your mind wander to this strange arrangement you were about to enter into. How would it work? What would you do together? What do you say to your friends, your family?

All those questions were answered later, around midnight, when there was a noise at your window for the second night in a row. You were sitting on your bed studying, the blind was drawn but there was only one person it could be. You opened your window and Peter crawled in with much more grace than than his previous entrance. He was just in jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt, so the powers must be him and not the suit.

“How’s your cut?” You asked as he drew the blind. He listed his shirt, revealing that toned core once again, and showed you a wound that looked more like a scar at this point.

“Much better,” he dropped it. “Thanks for cleaning it out, I’m not too great at that and it’s a mess when it’s not done right. Sorry you had to do that.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you sniffled a laugh and crossed your arms over your stomach, still finding yourself somewhat tongue-tied in his presence.

Desperate to fill the awkward silence, Peter clicked his tongue, “Should we figure this thing out?”

“Yeah!” You jumped.

“You sure?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You alright?”

“Yeah, good- I’m good,” you assured. “So how do you see this working?” You perched on the edge of your bed, Peter mimicked your movement on Liv’s white comforter.

“You and I say we’re dating. Boyfriend and girlfriend. That way your friends don’t pester you to find someone and, as an added bonus, if you ever want time away from them to study you can say you’re with me,” he said. You nodded in thought. “And my roommate is getting way too suspicious about why I come back so late, so I can say I was with you,” he nodded back.

“Okay, but we also have to sell it,” you cut in. “We can’t just say we’re dating and then never be seen together.”

“Good point. We should probably go on some dates.”

“One meal out in a public visible place each week, and we can do our work in the library together. That’s an easy two-for-one.”

“You’re a huge nerd, aren’t you?”

“That’s no way to talk to your girlfriend,” you playfully shot back. He chuckled, you smiled. Feeling the anxiety alleviate, and the comfort he radiated filling the space between you, your smile was genuine, and weirdly excited. This would work.

And it did work. Really well, in fact.

You went out to your first dinner together the very next evening at a casual restaurant close to campus. There, you covered the basics. Home, families, you were on a scholarship and he was too. He went to a dedicated school for science so when you asked why no MIT he explained he couldn’t bear to leave New York; he had a lot of history here and even though the city had taken much from him, he couldn’t bear to leave. He didn’t elaborate on what that meant, but you got the feeling that, whatever happened, it still hurt him.

Much to your surprise, you felt confident and comfortable enough around him to brave asking how he got his powers. Though as the night went on, and he told you stories, and you keenly listened and asked questions that made him think and laugh and tell more stories, you couldn’t quite believe your luck. Because here was someone you were about to spend a lot of time with, and you genuinely liked him as a person. Thank goodness Spider-Man wasn’t a pompous asshole. That would’ve sucked.

You also took the chance to establish some ground rules and ways for him to work around his roommate. You recounted the tales of Liv and Remi, and you two agreed that if for whatever reason he couldn’t sneak in your window one night, the blind would be closed. Be it that Liv was back or something else was going on, he wasn’t to enter unless it was open.

When it came to the whole “selling it” part of your relationship, you both felt sure enough to be flirty and cozy in public, give each other hugs, he‘d put his arm around you, the very innocent list went on. You would do those study dates in the library, and he’d have to make a bit of effort with your friends and you with his, otherwise they’d resent the other for stealing their friend away.

“Man, this is getting complicated,” you laughed nervously, pulling your coat on as you two walked out of the restaurant. “But I think it’ll work.”

The hopeful disbelief in your voice made Peter laugh, and he threw his arm around your shoulders just as the late-autumn air started nipping at your neck. Seamlessly, you put your arm around him and you two walked across campus keeping each other warm.

That very same night Peter went out on his patrol, and he snuck back in through your window just before three in the morning. He was quiet. It only woke you because it was such an unsettling sound. But those nights started happening frequently and that early hour shift of the pane soon blended into your dreams most evenings.

During your library study dates, or when you were out eating your meals together, Peter would tease you for the way you snored, or the panda pyjamas you loved to wear. Sometimes you’d swat at him, though most times you were able to come up with a remark to shoot right back. He seemed to like that.

You learned a lot about Spider-Man, and a lot about Peter Parker, over the following months.

He was resilient. Even after the occasional night he’d slip into your window and his groan of pain would give his injury away, he’d shrug it off and insist he was fine. Sometimes he let you help. Whenever he did, though, he made sure to break the tension by commenting on the chubby pandas or lamenting that you weren’t wearing them. He’d crack lame jokes until your worry turned to exasperated humour and you were fighting a grin instead of fighting the urge to worry sick over him.

He was insanely smart. The guy went out five or six times a week to keep the city safe, returning home sometimes just before dawn. News story after article after op-ed explained how Spider-Man was cleaning up the streets but privately, Peter Parker was somehow still acing all his classes on three hours sleep and way too much coffee. Or maybe it wasn’t too much - super metabolism and all. Actually… it’s a wonder coffee even worked on him.

He was kind, and a good friend. Those nights you got dinner, or those mornings you got brunch, all to keep up appearances, he’d ask more about you. He wanted to know about your life, your interests and hobbies, what you wanted to do with your intellect. He was encouraging and helpful, and so caring. One night he returned to find you still awake, hunched over your desk, crying from stress. God, you felt so stupid to have him see you like that. But he didn’t make you feel stupid. He didn’t make you feel foolish for being upset over something you couldn’t figure out because he seemed to understand the way you doubted yourself and how much it killed you to feel incapable. It was your own version of powerlessness, and he said he knew all about feeling powerless. Seeing you were embarrassed to be actively crying in front of him, he said: “Put on your pandas. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Ten minutes later, Peter crawled back through your window with a pint of chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream and two of the tiniest spoons you’d ever seen. The sight of the fluorescent pink plastic spoons made you laugh, and laughing made you cry a little more just from being overwhelmed, but Peter chuckled and pulled you in for a warm hug. When he pulled away, he made fun of you for the panda pyjamas.

Around the time you two celebrated four months of fake dating, some kind of guilt started tugging at your chest. It was something you’d been thinking about for a while and it had never seemed like the right time to say anything about it. Though one Saturday morning, over surprisingly good pancakes in the cafeteria, you noticed a girl from your class and her stare lingering on Peter for a few seconds too long for someone who wasn’t interested. She was beautiful. You’d met her once, in passing really, but she seemed really sweet. Smart, too. Peter didn’t seem to notice her, happily chatting away to you about an armed robbery he’d foiled the night before. Or, you thought he was, but his hand waving to you made you snap back into the moment with small puff of air.

“Sorry, Peter” you sniffed and turned to your pancakes, realising you’d barely touched them.

“I guess you’ve heard one too many stories of heroism lately,” he smiled kindly, albeit sheepishly.

“Not at all,” you smiled. “I like your stories. I‘ve… I’ve just been thinking about this whole thing and…” you sighed and didn’t quite meet his eye.

“Hey,” he reached his hand across the table, not grabbing yours, just enough to pull your focus upwards.

You sighed deeper. “I don’t want to hold you back if there’s someone you actually want to date.” Your gaze turned back to the swirling mess of melted butter and syrup. “You’re a great guy. Anyone here would be lucky to date you a-and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t.”

Peter was silent for several long moments, retracting his hand and sitting back to press himself into the leathery cushions of the booth. When you looked back up at him, he was looking out of the window into the busy courtyard. Even though the snow had just melted, students gathered around tables chatting and laughing over breakfast, blissfully unaware this seemingly-ordinary student had single-handedly stopped a shop-owner from losing a night’s takings, and potentially much more than that.

“I’m, uh-… I’m not ready. For anything like that,” he sniffed, pulling himself away from a memory of someone before looking at his own nearly-empty plate. He averted his eyes and chuckled sadly, “It’s been two yehears but I still… it feels wrong to think about another girl that way.”

You were smart. You could tell this pain was far more than just a bad breakup. This was true loss.

“I’m happy with you,” he finally looked up, eyes noticeably glassy but nothing more than that. “I can be myself around you and there’s no pressure, and it’s fun and it’s so weird that we’re doing this,” he laughed again, and he looked at you, urging his sincerity. “But this is exactly what I need right now.”

You smiled sadly, feeling a little bad for bringing this up, still grateful to know that even in some small way, you truly were helping him too.

The scheme continued to great success. Your friends were happy that you were so happy, they liked Peter - really liked him, and you got some unequivocally blissful, silent study time when you were supposedly with him but he was actually webbing crooks to brick walls and calling the cops on them with their own phones. Peter’s roommate liked you and liked that you kept Peter away from the dorm, giving him the chance to bring whoever he liked over. You giggled abashedly when he’d told you that but he was so confident in his statement that you had to respect the machismo.

There had only been a handful of nights your blind had been closed when Peter came around. One of them you‘d fallen asleep at your desk and forgotten to open it, the other you were holding and comforting a sobbing Liv as she lamented over Remi apparently texting another girl. It was all a misunderstanding, apparently, which was little solace to Peter who had to strip and change on the roof when it was covered in snow.

All in all, you were making it work.

Then, the day came when it all threatened to unravel.

“Peter, nine-one-one, get to my dorm now!” You’d hung up as soon as you‘d made the demand, then tossed your phone down on the bed and paced back and forth across the carpet. His damned bloodstains never fully came out and they were all you could focus on as you took your thumbnail between your teeth, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. In less than a minute, a breathless Peter burst into your room. You were so used to having him come through the window that you gave a startled yelp when he near-crashed through your door.

“What’s wrong?!” He panted. With one hand ready to shoot a web, his eyes darted around your room to assess it for any threats, only finding a very upset you with your arms folded over your stomach and a worried-sick look on your face. “Hey-hey-hey, what happened?” His battle posture dropped as he took on his own worried look. He shut the door and strode over to you, placing his gentle hands on each of your upper arms.

“The worst thing possible,” you breathed out shakily.

He looked back and forth between your eyes, urging you to continue.

“We have to go on a double date tomorrow night.”

His worry immediately turned into confusion, then into disbelief, then his hands dropped from your arms and he opened his mouth but couldn’t quite find the words - kind of a first for him, in your experience. You started blurting out the chain of events before he had the chance to turn tail and run.

“Dana asked what I was doing tomorrow night and I said hanging with you, obviously, and she asked what we were doing and I stupidly said we didn’t know yet “probably watch a movie” - that’s what I said - and she was like “oh, if you don’t have plans then we should totally go on a double date” and I had no good reason to say no and I panicked and-and-and said yes, and now we have to-”

His hands met your shoulders again, his features hesitant, and it stopped you in your tracks. You panted from the nerves, from the lack of breathing in your retelling. Peter grimaced and lowered his voice to a whisper to tease, “You’re scaring me.”

Your worry turned into a scowl when you saw the amusement behind his eyes. With a small grunt of frustration you shoved his hands off of you and looked out the window.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” he said calmly. “It’ll be fine.”

“Fine? Fine?!”

“Oh no-”

“Peter, we know big picture things, family, friends, aspirations, but there’s no way we know enough about each other to convincingly play a couple who’s been together for nearly five months.”

“Then we’ll study,” he declared with a nod.

“Study?”

“I’ll give you a crash-course in Peter Parker, and you can do the same. You and I get along great, we’re comfortable around each other, convincing Mike and Dana we’re in love will be a piece of cake.”

“Well,” you mumbled, “Love is kind of a stretch. It’s only been five months.”

“Oh, trust me,” he grinned, taking steps back towards the door. “If I’d given you the full Peter Parker experience, you’d be head over heels right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Hey, I’ve got class but I’ll be back in two hours,” he opened the door to leave and you opened your mouth to maybe protest, maybe ask him to skip class and start studying now, but he pointed to you with one foot out the door, “The vege sub from that weird little shop you like? No pickles? I’ll bring dinner.” And with that, he was gone.

To distract yourself, and to make good use of the time while Peter learned more Spanish, you started looking up relationship quizzes, get-to-know-you questions, lists of things to ask the other person before you get married - quite literally any content you could get your hands on. Then, you stumbled across the holy grail: an app.

IceBreak was free - it had a few ads but, whatever - and it landed on your phone‘s Home Screen with an icon showing a minimalist ice cube adorned with a small crack. The reviews said it was fantastic - that there were conversation starters for friends, family, new relationships, long-term relationships, roommates, almost every way a human could be connected to another. You were sifting through some of the questions, smiling as your heart lifted, when a knock on the door commanded your attention. You called for Peter to come in, recognising the way he seemed to always knock.

“One vege sub for my beautiful girlfriend,” he charmed with a cocky smile. You fought the urge to stammer and blush, but didn’t fight it very well. Peter‘s smile turned into a grin and a laugh as he closed the door with his foot. “You can’t act like you’ve never heard that before.”

“I know, it’s just… been a while,” you blushed harder and started unwrapping the sandwich. “How was class?”

“Couldn’t tell you, I was dreaming up the new schematics for this,” he bumped his eyebrows and pulled a small device from his backpack. “New and improved web-shooter.”

“Let me see.”

He handed it to you and sat beside you on your bed, both of your backs against the wall. His feet hung well over the other side’s edge, so he didn’t bother taking off his shoes. You’d since changed into a faded long-sleeved shirt and some workout leggings, even though you hadn’t worked out in way too long. You tucked your feet underneath your legs as you sat up and inspected the device. It did look more streamlined than the previous model. You knew better than to test it, knowing there was an unexpected kick Peter was keenly attuned to, so you handed it back to him with an impressed nod. You sucked your teeth and smirked to yourself before saying, “Espero que valga la pena reprobar español.”

He chuckled and winked, “Ya soy fluido.”

You showed him the app and let him focus his eyes on tinkering with the web shooter, picking up minuscule tools from his small tool kit, as you two exchanged answers to all the basic questions people in a relationship would realistically know about each other.

Favourite colour, flower, movie, dream vacation location, would you rather go to the moon or the bottom of the ocean, did you ever want to climb Mount Everest? What did you want to be when you grew up, and did that change? Why did it change? Do you think you’d be good at the job you wanted to do when you were six?

You went back and forth for over an hour, Peter successfully getting his shooter into an acceptable beta model.

“Morning person, or night person... I think we know the answer to that,” you bumped your eyebrows and pressed the NEXT button. One you had, Peter looked up at you with a worn look in his eye.

“I think we’ve studied enough.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“You’re forgetting I’ve got much more on the line here,” he laughed. “They’re not going to quiz us on each other. They won’t know if I don’t know your favourite colour.”

“Yours is green.”

“So is yours, but that’s beside the point.”

“Just a few more,” you pleaded. “For my peace of mind.”

“Five more,” he put the web-shooter down, giving in with a turn of his head against the wall to give you a firm stare.

“Fine,” you sighed and clicked the randomise button on the app. “What was your favourite place to go as a kid?”

“Easy. The skatepark,” Peter shrugged. “You?”

“The museum.”

“Wow. You’ve always been a nerd, haven’t you?” He teased. “Did you collect rock samples too?”

“Next question,” you glared, fighting a smile, settling back beside him so you could look at the phone together. This proved to be a mistake, proven by overwhelming desire you had to press the button again, fib that you’d already had that question, and ignore the new question that’d popped up on the screen.

Where are you most ticklish?

“Oh, uh… I think on my feet? I don’t know, bad guys tend to use knives and guns, not feathers. How ’bout you?” He asked it so casually, and he didn’t even look at you when he asked it. If you had the ability to act cool, calm and collected you may have been able to rationalise that Peter was not considering acting on the knowledge he was seeking, but the lie tumbled through your lips before you had the chance to use that rational part of your brain.

“Umm- I-I’m not,” you cleared your throat, wondering if there was possibly a more obvious way to tell that lie.

“You’re not telling me?”

He turned his head. Oh no. You didn’t return the look. Instead, you shrugged, “No, I’m not ticklish,” you mumbled, swallowed thickly and pressing your thumb against the random button. Peter stayed looking at you, and you could’ve sworn he was smirking in your peripheral vision. “Okay! When did you have your first kiss?” You braved turning to look at him, hoping it looked innocent enough. He didn’t respond right away, instead narrowing his eyes. You nodded to urge him to answer, and he cracked a cheeky grin.

“The summer between eighth and ninth grade. At Camp Riverside in Maine. You’re lying to me.”

“I haven’t even told you about my first kiss.”

He raised his eyebrows, and before you could react his fingers were at your side. You gasped at the contact and shifted to move away before realising he hadn’t made any attempt at tickling you.

“You little liar!” He laughed and a whimper slipped through your lips as he made no moves to take his hand off you. “How are we supposed to convincingly play a loving couple if you won’t be honest with me?” He punctuated his teasing rhetorical question with a dig of his fingers, making you jump and squeak. “Secrets can destroy a relationship, you know,” he said as if he were serious, squeezing your side a few more times as giggles bubbled up from your chest and you shot your hand down to close around his fingers. “I mean, really?” He clicked his tongue, beginning to shift to face you. Your eyes widened and you began stammering.

“Wa-wait, wait, Pete,” you laughed, nerves bringing a blush prickling to your cheeks. “They’re not gonna ahask about thihis,” you sniffled, still trying to push away his hand which had stilled at your side.

He shrugged and sighed deeply, feigning the despair of having no other choice. “But-but what if they do? I mean, we can’t get caught,” with a solemn shake of his head. “And you clearly can’t be trusted to be forthcoming with this information, so I might need to-”

“No, Peheter!” You tried to squirm away as he opted to finish his sentence not with an explanation, but with a demonstration. His other hand found your other side, and they both creeped up for him to lightly dig his fingers into your lowest ribs. Your elbows folded inwards and tried to shove him off as you fell into desperate giggles almost immediately. “NahanonoNO!” You tried turning in on yourself as his attack made your backside slide down from where you’d been sitting up. As much as you tried to press your arms against his hands to dissuade him, to push him off course, he still seemed unbothered by your attempts at self-defence. “PARKER!”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“And youhou- YOU- AHA-” You kicked out and tried to turn onto your front as he brought his hands inwards to claw at the sides of your stomach. Completely involuntarily, you kicked out and caught his shin with your foot. “CUT IT OHOUT!”

He laughed and grabbed above your knee with one hand, squeezing the muscle between his thumb and middle finger, making you shriek and kick out again before his grip closed around your knee and pulled you further from the wall. “If you’d just answered the question I wouldn‘t be forced to extract this information from- woah!” He cut himself off with a laugh when his fingers were vehemently blocked from trying to wedge themselves under one of your arms. He yanked you even closer, your hips nearly over his legs, and got to work on prying your bicep away from your side. “What do we have here, huh?”

“Peter, so help m— AHH NO!” You growled and sent your knee punting into his stomach. He made a small grimace, but your strength wasn’t really something that could hurt him. “Back OFF, Web-Head!” You shouted through nervous giggles, trying your best to keep your arms clamped to your sides. He scoffed and paused his wrestling, giving you a mischievous look.

“Really? You’re gonna get cute with me?” He resumed his fighting, with much more strength than before. You squeaked and shook your head as he pulled you by your wrists to be sitting up. “Right now, you’re gonna get cute with me?!”

“Noho, I- Ihi wohon’t!” You laughed and squirmed nervously, but you were no match for his strength. With another swift tug, he lurched you forwards to be sitting between his legs. With a final yank, he turned you to be caught with your back against his chest, his legs ensnaring yours as he handled your wrists in his grip. “Peteher,” you sniffed, squirming as anxious giggles bubbled through your lips. “Thihis is so unfair!”

Before you could register what was happening, Peter grabbed your left bicep and pulled it away from your side with terrifying ease. Before you had the chance to gasp, squirm, or beg, his other hand shot around your waist, up your ribs and dug wiggling fingers into the soft space of your underarm. You shrieked out in laughter and arched your back away from him, thrashing in his trapping limbs.

“Woah-ho!” He laughed, letting your arm clamp down at your side with his tickling fingers worming deeper against the thin long-sleeved shirt. “Oh man, I’m never gonna let you live this d-”

SMACK!

You didn’t mean to slap him.

It was his fault, really. You tended to get involuntarily violent when tickled, even if you did secretly find the whole ordeal pretty fun and playful. Nevertheless, the open palm that’d met his jaw now covered your own gasping mouth, his hand beneath your arm stilled from the shock of your hit.

“I’m soho sorry,” you apologies through laboured breaths. “I dihidn’t mean to. I- HEY! Peter - NO!”

He, apparently, didn’t accept your apology. Because his right hand abandoned your underarm in favour of grabbing your own right hand, the one that had dared to slap him, and he pinned it to the wall above his shoulder. With widened eyes, you saw him pick up the web-shooter he’d been tinkering with and aim it at the hand he’d stuck above you.

“N-n-no! Don‘t you dare web me!”

Fwip.

“HEY! Get it off!” You yanked on your wrist, now webbed to the wall, gritting your teeth with a frustrated growl to hide the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Peter,” you whined, “Let my hand go.”

“Mmmno. That one’s in time out.”

In an instant, his fingers were lightly skittering at the fabric under your now-exposed arm. The sensation was light, just enough to be damn near unbearable, and your reaction was instant, dramatic, and, apparently to Peter, hilarious. He erupted into laughter alongside your squealing, breathy bursts of loud, shrieking giggles.

When your free hand swiped over at his tickling fingers, he closed around your wrist and held it just enough at bay that you couldn’t interfere with his torment. A growl of frustration resounded through your laughter that was pitching up every second he continued, and he spluttered in his own laughter when he found an especially sensitive spot just above your ribs that made you attempt to fly out from under your imprisonment.

“PETEHEHER!” You squeaked, sliding further down despite yourself, trying to twist away to no avail. “P-PLEHEASE!”

“Please what?” He teased, scratching just two fingers at the centre of your underarm, laughing breathily at how you squealed and tugged against him. “Hey, you never answered the question.”

“IHI’M NOT TELLIHING YOU!”

He paused, fingers still poised to strike. “Why not?”

“Because this’ll get wohorse,” you coughed.

“Oho…” Peter’s smirking laugh made your stomach flip. “Ohoho…” He ducked his head around to look at your blushing cheeks. “I was talking about the first kiss,” panic struck your chest as he lowered his voice to just above a whisper and said, “but now you have me very intrigued.”

“W-wait. No. No Peter, I-”

“I mean, I thought this had to be it,” he scoffed and resumed tickling at your underarm with all five fingers. Cackling laughter burst through your lips, your eyes shutting tight once again as you submitted to your fate. You were stuck, there was no fighting back. That was, until he released your free wrist in favour of hunting down your most ticklish spot. “You gonna tell me?” He teased over your squeaks and cackles. “Seriously, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to find it myself,” he sighed sarcastically as you shook your head, indicating even if you had the ability to form sentences right now, no way in hell were giving him that sort of information. “Thankfully… you and I, we’re scientists. We’re good at experiments.”

“PARKER!” You managed to yell, pulling on your legs still trapped in his.

“So, let’s see…” With one hand stilled at your underarm, his other hand clawed into the side of your stomach. You lurched and barked out a laugh, your free hand wrapping around his attacking fingers. No sooner had you done so, he dug his wiggling fingers back in under your arm. You shrieked, burst into belly-laughter, and abandoned his stilled hand to fight off this new attack. “Hmm, interesting,” he mused. There was a shit-eating grin evident in his voice. Then, his plan sunk in: he was going to force your hand to reveal what was most unbearable. And so he did.

When you swatted at the attack under your arm, he turned the side of your ribs into his target. When you squealed and tried to crush your elbow against his hand, he shook his fingers into the same spot on the other side of your body - the one with the arm still stuck above your head. “Very interesting…” He laughed along with you as you twisted in vain, trying to hit at both hands at once. You sniffled and whined through the laughter bursting through your chest, reacting too hard to form a cohesive sentence.

“NAHAHA, I cahan’t- P-PE- NAA!” You tried to dampen your shrieks, but he was too damn good at this. After a particularly hard hit at the fingers drilling into the uppermost ribs exposed by your pinned arm, and a particularly loud shriek, you begged with just his name. “P-Pehehe… Peter!” You gasped, and he backed off.

“Answer the question,” he sang, shifting his fingers down to ready themselves at your sides should you choose to refuse. Despite the fact that he was removing all the air from your lungs, you couldn’t deny the fun of it all. It’s not like you got physical touch all that often, and certainly nothing as playful as this.

Your brief reverie was ended by Peter deciding you’d waited too long to answer, and him declaring this by digging his fingers into the sides of your stomach.

You screeched, hitting your hand at both of his while the laughter was once again forced through you. “I’m gonnaha GEHET YOHOU FOR THIHIS- EEP!” You squeaked, high-pitched giggles weakening you further as he skittered his fingers all around the sensitive patch in the very centre of your belly.

“More threats?” He gasped, taking your free wrist in one hand and pulling it away from where you were interfering with his current target. “Youhou just never learn, do you?” You giggled and squeaked as he made use of his unobstructed movement, alternating between prodding and scratching at the skin. “Now, that’s adorable,” he teased, moving his fingers closer to the centre to ghost along the exposed skin below your navel. Your giggles hitched up and you tugged on both of your trapped wrists, obviously trying to form some kind of words but failing miserably. Sensing this, Peter chuckled and halted. “How about now?”

You took the moment to catch your breath, resigning yourself to the reality that you’d have to disclose your secret to save yourself from him hunting down every ticklish place on your body. “Okay okay okahay...” You coughed. “Youhou… you win. Unweb me, and I’ll tehell you. But you ha-.”

“Shh!” His hand flew to your mouth and you both sat dead still. His head turned towards the hallway, his hyperaware senses alerting him to an impending visitor. “Dana’s coming,” he whispered, reaching up and ripping the webbing from your wrist before shoving it behind his back. “Tell me now or you’re getting it when she’s gone,” he grinned beside your ear as your limp arm toppled to your side.

“I hate you,” you mumbled and sighed, beginning to pull against his legs again. “Around my hip area. Like, if someone squeezes at the sides and stuff,” you admitted, blushing profusely. “Now, let me go before Dana thinks this is something else.”

“Well…” he started, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your waist. Your heart beat in your chest, hearing that cheeky lilt in his tone. “Isn’t that exactly what we need?”

“Peter, no-”

“Peter, yes.”

“Don’t you dare, Parker. I swear I’ll- nahAHA WAHAIT!”

He dug his fingers into your ribcage, attacking the place where your back met your sides with a pinpoint precision, just as there was a knock on the door. He ducked down to whisper, “This’ll sell it,” before he lifted his head and called “Come in!”

“Peheter nohoho, dohon’t lehet- AH!” You squeaked again and collapsed your head against his chest in defeat as he picked up the pace, slowly travelling one hand down your side with every few digs and squeezes. “Dahana hehelp!” You begged, tears of mirth forming above your flushed and grinning cheeks.

“So this is why you weren’t answering my messages,” she playfully glared.

“I-I’m sorry,” Peter sighed sarcastically. “I really am - you know, for distracting her like this, she just- woah, careful there!” He tugged you a little higher, both hands now dangerously close to your hips. “As I was saying… sometimes, when she won’t stop studying, I have to resort to drastic measures to get her to stop.”

Dana raised an amused eyebrow at your demise under Peter’s fingers and rolled her eyes with an endeared smile. “We get it - two are super cute together. Should I come back later?”

“Dohon’t leave me- PETER!” You squeaked louder and gripped at his wrists, trying to push his hands off course to no avail. “Pehete, PLEASE!”

“I’ll come back.”

“DANA!”

“Sorry, Dana,” Peter stopped his hands, allowing you to catch your breath. “It’s the sworn duty of a boyfriend to enact tickle torture in times like this.”

“That’s fair,” she shrugged. You shot her a death glare from behind disheveled hard.

“Okahay,” you panted. “I’ll stop for tonight, just- no mohore… please.” You gulped the air in, chest heaving with the exertion from bearing the brunt of Peter’s playfulness. He turned his head to grin down at you, you looked up at him with a glare that was betrayed by a smile you couldn’t hold back. You couldn’t hold back your blush either, or the way that you weren’t really trying hard to escape his arms.

“Ugh, you guys are sickeningly adorable,” Dana rolled her eyes and went to leave the room. “Seriously, the way you two look at each other… anyway - are we still on for tomorrow night?”

“Yeheah,” you coughed, then grumbled, “If I’m still alive.”

“I’ll keep her in one piece,” Peter promised as Dana grinned and shut the door.

You continued to catch your breath, taking the chance to swat at his leg with your now-freed hand. “Peter!” You scolded. “That was so embarrassing,” you coughed again, and found yourself subconsciously settling into his arms before remembering what you were doing. “Alright, we can stop studying now.” When you tried sitting up, his arm around you didn’t relent. “Peter.”

He lowered his voice to a whisper as he grimaced and said, “I have to try.”

“Huh?”

“The spot, I have to try the spot,” he whispered again and you felt him shrug apologetically.

Your eyes widened, you shook your head, whipping it around to look up at him as you giggled nervously, “No. Peheter you’ve done enough!”

“I-I’m sorry, but it’s necessary and-”

“It is not necessary, you just-”

“I mean, you can’t just tell me about it and then not-”

“You forced me to tell you! Peter!” You continued struggling as he shrugged again and started leaning sideways with you still in his arms. “Peter, plehease,” you pushed at his hands and squeaked when he turned himself to be partially pinning you face-down with his own body. “PETER?!” You held tight to his wrists as he started pulling one away, already giggling hysterically and groaning at the situation you’ve found yourself in. As he pulled his hand away slowly, but with very little effort, you realised there was no stopping him. The best you could do was to ask him to go easy on you. “Okay- OKAY, WAIT!”

He paused with his hand about to strike at your hip, his legs tangling tighter around yours as you squirmed in anticipation. “Yes?” He taunted in a sing-song voice.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “I’ll let you try, but- hey, don’t laugh at me!” You swatted at his shoulder behind you and tried to glower up at him.

“Oh, you’ll let me,” he laughed with a sarcastic edge. “That’s what this is - you calling the shots.”

“You have to let me tickle you too.”

“Sure.”

You hadn’t expected him to agree, which threw you for a loop. Just as you opened your mouth to stammer and come up with some kind of bargain for him to ease his torment, his fingers squeezed harshly around your hip and began digging into the susceptible place next to the bone.

Your face flew straight into the pillow close to your head so you could muffle the volume of your scream of ticklish ferocity. Your whole body flew into fight and flight, tensing and twitching and thrashing against the way Peter had locked you in his arms between him and your bed. After a gasp for air, you fell into silent laughter as you continued to writhe against him and his kneading fingers pressing and wiggling against your hipbone. You spluttered and gasped for air, the laughter trapped in your chest as the tears of mirth spilled over onto the pillow. When he backed off a little, only to flutter his fingers at the space on your stomach just above your hipbone, you pressed your face back into the pillow to muffle some of the boisterous laughter he was drawing from you. Your twitching and spluttering soon overcame your laughter and coherent struggling, so he stopped his tickling and laughed brightly near your ear, giving you a squeeze with his arms before slowly snaking them away from you. He laughed again when he saw how limp you’d gone, making some kind of comment about how dramatic you were, and how he’d gone easy on you.

It took you a solid half-minute to catch your breath and work up the courage to glare up at him. “You’re an ass,” you seethed, gritting your teeth in an effort to hide your smile.

“Ah, but,” he held up a finger with a cheeky smile, “We’ve certainly convinced Dana. Which means… we can stop studying.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself up to sit, propped up on your hands behind you. “Well I’m not gonna argue with you,” you mumbled with a blush before casting a glance to your laptop. “I have some notes I wanna catch up on anyway so-”

He cut you off with a firm hand on the forearm you’d reached towards your computer, and a hesitant shake of his head. “When’s the last time you did something fun?”

“What d‘you mean? I have fun all the time.”

“No, I mean when‘s the last time your Friday night wasn’t spent studying?”

You sighed and looked away, knowing where this was going. “I find it very fun to keep my scholarship,” you said, and you two almost instantly traded unimpressed looks. There was no pretending it wasn’t a lame excuse.

“We’re going out,” he announced, letting go of your arm and standing up from your bed. “Let’s go.”

“Where?!”

“Anywhere but here, or the library, or the cafeteria,” he said with a somewhat worried, exasperated look. “You’re in desperate need of a break.”

You sighed with a scoff, “Peter, come on, I-”

“I’ll be right outside the door,” he stated, pulling his jacket on. “Get changed. If you’re not out there in five minutes, so help me-“ He chuckled incredulously, balling his hands into fists just below his chin before shooting them open for emphasis. “-I will hang you from the ceiling and tickle you so hard.”

Some noise between a scoff, a squeak and a whimper burst through your lips, bringing a grin to Peter’s cheeks. He slid on his beta web-shooter and wiggled his fingers at you before shutting the door to your room and waiting outside.

You silently laughed and shook your head at the ridiculousness of it all, sliding off your bed and replacing your long-sleeved shirt and leggings for some jeans and a nicer crew-neck. As you tied the laces of your shoes, you found yourself smiling, blushing, maybe more grateful for Peter than you ever realised you’d be. Sure, he was convenient, the perfect excuse for studying way too hard, but maybe he was what you needed in more ways than just a fake boyfriend.

You opened the door to your dorm as you slid your other arm into your jacket and snuggled it over your sweatshirt, giving Peter a smile that you wanted to look annoyed and fake, but you were pretty sure it just looked shy and endeared. He smiled back and when you turned around from locking your door he took your hand and laced his fingers through yours.

In a split second, you fought your gasp and your face morphed from surprise into sheepishness. “Right,” you laughed. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

“Yeah. Right,” Peter smiled, softer than before, and nodded. After a few seconds of hesitation, he pulled himself back to the moment and smiled wider. “Let’s go.”

[lonelyridesinecto-one]

A Miniature Spengler

Egon Spengler • She/Her Pronouns • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • Secret Relationship • HS Teacher!Reader • TW: Pregnancy / Birth / Pregnancy Complications • PART 3

PREVIOUS

“She can pop any minute”

“That’s the most terrible way in phrasing birth, Egon.” Ray watches his friend stress out as he loads Ecto-1 with their proton packs. “She’ll be okay. She’s not going to “pop” while we are on this job.”

“Okay but she has a track record of not telling me things and it stresses me out. The time she found out she was pregnant, she didn’t tell me that she passed out and went through that scary moment alone”

“This sounds like a time we were in PE…Y/N broke her wrist because we were playing aggressively with soccer and she covered it up when telling me she was going to our teacher. Then the next day she came in a cast”

“That is so not helpful” Egon sighs getting in the car with Ray to head on the job. “What happens if she goes into labor and gets stuck at home or I get hurt on this job and lose my memory or she falls and just actually po—-“

“Stop. I don’t need to imagine my best friend from high school popping like a grape. You guys have a village. If she goes into labor and you’re busy, she’ll call who’s available to come get her and she’ll call you to meet her at the hospital”

Egon stares at Ray when he said that and all he could think of was he should’ve stayed home that day.

He should’ve. But not for reasons you’re thinking.

“You called me on my day off, to help you up off the floor because you decided it was the best idea to sit on the floor that pregnant” Peter questions Y/N as she was literally going to kick him in the guys if she wasn’t going to get tired being helped up. “You’re lucky Dana understands and scowled me if I said no”

“Lucky me I guess” Y/N held her arms out for Peter as he carefully helps her up and waits for her to regain her balance.

“You okay now mama?”

“Yeah…Uhm. Yeah I think I am”

Peter stood there for a moment seeing her upset expression as he stepped out of the room walking the floor they were on until he found a phone. He picks up the phone dialing in a number before leaning against the wall patiently waiting.

“Hey gorgeous……yeah she’s okay, at least she’s telling me that…you read my mind. This is why we were destined to be together!…yeah I’ll come home when he gets back. Love you beautiful” Peter puts the phone down before rejoining Y/N in the baby’s room as she’s now in the rocking chair Egon built over five times to make sure it was secure. “Alright. You’re stuck with me until Spengs gets back”

“But I’m also Spengs”

“Don’t be a smartass with me. I’m not afraid of a pregnant woman” No he was. Y/N scared him that one time he thought it’d be smart to talk about how big she was and how she’d might have a c-section regardless. Including some scary realities that have happened to other women.

“You don’t have to stay Pete…I know he’s working and doing what he needs to do” The sadness to escape through her words didn’t go unnoticed. Resulting in Peter to kneel down in front of her watching her stare blankly at him. “What”

“Imma say something and I know if you don’t answer you’re upset about it”

“Okay…you sound like a therapist but I know you didn’t use your psychology degree for that line of work”

“Egon being whisked away because of the job, only stresses you out over the idea that he may not be present for your baby’s life” Peter states and Y/N immediately started crying.

“I WASNT THINKING THAT BUT NOW I AM VENKMAN—-I WANT HIM TO BE THERE FOR OUR BABY WHY THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY THAT”

“I’m sorry I thought that was what was wrong. I’m so confused. Why do you think I didn’t become a therapist?!”

“Pete…”

Woah. She hasn’t called him that in forever.

______

“Pete…”

“Woah Woah Woah. You only call me Peter or Venkman. The fuck did I do?”

“Just. Uhm. It’s nothing like that” Y/N looked like she’s been crying and not because of the final they just had. “I need your advice or well. To talk me down…I-I know you’ve liked me and talking about my boyfriend wouldn’t be best to you but—“

“Hey hey. Yeah I did like you. But the second I found out you were taken. I didn’t bother pushing it…well after the first two times.” Peter admits. “But I’d like to be your friend and if I’m your last resort. Then you definitely need somebody…what’s wrong kid?”

“I’m…I’m worried that my boyfriend would break up with me when I take my certification classes..because I’ll be in a school and he’s doing an internship and I’m just. Would he leave me…if I’m not around enough? Like he’s dedicated to the career he’s achieving and so am I but I’m willing to take risks but—“

“Okay before you lose your breath. Let me just be honest. This guy caught a catch. He’d be a fool to lose you. If he loves you and wants to have a future with you. He’d make that obvious and by the looks of that necklace on yea. I think it is” Peter pointed out the necklace around her neck that had a silver E on it. “Damn. My friend’s name starts with an E and he’s super obsessed with his work. But also about this person in his life and it gives me hope that he’ll make someone very happy one day”

______

“I’m afraid…He loves me, but babies are stressful and it’s only going to be scary”

“If he didn’t want a baby, he would’ve said something way sooner and if it makes you feel better.” Peter stood to his feet holding both hands out. “I’m gonna show you something”

Being as careful as he was, Peter got Y/N to the firehouse safely and lead her to Egon’s locker admitting to her that he invades his locker for his snacks sometimes. But he was mainly showing her the inside on the locker door.

“Now this man has every ultrasound photo you got printed on the door. Including these Polaroids from when we helped get your nursery together. Like. This man is going to be dedicated to this mini ghostbuster. Oh! Don’t tell him I found this either” Peter closes the locker and lead Y/N to the lab taking his time as she held onto him on the way down. “Don’t worry. Nothing is brewing in here. He hasn’t done an experiment in a while”

“…why?”

“Because the man wants to go home. He doesn’t want to get contaminated by anything that would require a quarantine.” Peter says calmly as Y/N gripped his arm tightly. “Now the kicker to everything…” he helped her sit on one of the stools before going into the workbench to pull out a notepad flipping to the right page. “He wrote everything down. Everything he wants to do with his kid. Boy or girl. Because you two are crazy and want to be surprised. But he wants to spend every second with his kid”

Y/N took a hold of the notepad looking at everything listed as she started to sob again. But instead of Peter comforting, the two were spotted by Egon and Ray coming down to the containment unit.

“Peter. What the fuck did you do”

“For once, nothing bad.” Peter walks away from Y/N as she was still fixated on what she was reading.

Peter took the trap from Egon and grabbed Ray by the collar pulling him to the containment unit to give them a bit of privacy. Egon carefully brought himself behind Y/N wrapping his arms protectively around her seeing what she’s reading.

“I-I…Peter found that?”

“Are you…ashamed?” He hated that frown on her sweet face as he immediately shook his head.

“I just…I wanna be a good dad, Y/N. I’m afraid I’ll mess it up”

“Love…but that’s the process. Messing up a bit along the way. We could only prevent so much. We’re learning too”

“As long as I’m with you, I’ll be okay…right?” Egon brought his arms back around his wife when she suddenly winced at the contact. “I’m sorry—“

“No it’s okay…I Uhm. I think we’ll find out soon”

The words blew past Egon before the shocked silent expression went into overdrive.

“RAYMOND—-!”

The yell caused everyone in the firehouse to get to work. With helping Y/N into Ecto-1, not her choice just the first available vehicle, as Egon tried not to over think about the fact that everything they need is back home.

“Alright alright. Ray, Egon, get the little lady to the hospital. I’ll grab your hospital bag. No discussion just go!” Peter states and it happened.

But not without complications…

“E-Egon, something doesn’t feel right…” Y/N started to sob out of fear instead of joy as Egon wasn’t letting go of her whether that be her attention, gaze, or just her being.

“Ray, I don’t care. I’ll pay for the ticket—-“

“I’m already putting sirens on” Ray yells over the sirens hurrying to the hospital as Y/N winces sharply making Egon not give a second thought when examining his wife and not lifting his hand for Y/N to notice the blood that pooled beneath her.

“GURNEY!” Ray yells running into the hospital after illegally parking Ecto-1 in the ER loading zone.

Egon without saying anymore words because his anxiety and anger would get the best of him immediately. He picked up Y/N bridal style using the adrenaline strength carry his very pregnant wife into the ER in his uniform catching a lot of glances but Ray made sure no one got near them except for the nurses and doctors that were paged.

Once Y/N was on the gurney and held onto Egon’s hand for dear life only to be separated which left them both screaming for the other. One of the security guards tried to keep Egon away since a nurse failed to do such that Ray had to cut in before his best friend got into a fight with the officer for separating them.

“They’ve got her. They’ve got them” Ray reassures, seeing the blood on his hands as he carefully directed him to a non-afraid nurse to help him get cleaned up.

When Y/N woke up after being brought in for an emergency c-section, she was met with Ray’s tearful expression of relief to know she was okay. But the monitor only went off to express her anxiety of realizing she’s not pregnant anymore and no one is telling her where her baby is.

Then the soft cries cut through Ray’s reassurance moment as he moved away from Y/N’s bedside to let the new father who hasn’t stopped sobbing since the nurses showed him their son. Y/N started crying as Egon carefully hands off the little one who instantly started to calm down once reconnected with his mother. She quickly looked up at him with disbelief as Egon started to cry even more.

“Egie…”

“I’m sorry…I-I almost lost you and I…I’m so glad I didn’t” He cries pressing his forehead gently against hers as she re-positioned herself to hold their baby close and give her a free hand to wipe away his tears. “You’re here…a-and he’s here”

“Our baby boy…” Y/N continues to sob herself as she kisses her husband before the two turned to look at their baby admiring the first moments. Together…

______

“Dr. Egon Spengler?” The Doctor enters the waiting room finding Egon shooting out of his seat. “Would you come with me please?”

Egon nods about to when he quickly turned to Ray thinking he’d want to tag along.

“I’ll wait to inform Peter man. Go ahead”

Following the doctor, he immediately thought the worse. His wife died on the table. He lost the baby. Lost them both. As if he wasn’t already crying when they took Y/N away and didn’t let him come, he quickly wiped away his tears to avoid being seen by the doctor. When this isn’t his first rodeo.

“Your wife is still being operated on, they located the bleeder and are doing the repair. If you two ever decide to have another, your OB should know about placenta accreta as it was detected to be the cause of the bleed.” He informs only making Egon more anxious but the word “another” lingered in his head as the doctor opens the door for him to the empty hospital room Y/N will be placed in once she’s out of surgery. But instead of being met with nothing, there was a nurse along with a bassinet making sure the little one was still content given he hasn’t been held by either of his parents yet.

“Congratulations Dr. Spengler. It’s a beautiful healthy baby boy. Five pounds eight ounces”

“We’ll leave you two alone and come in with updates” The Doctor informs exiting the room with the nurse leaving Egon alone with the baby as he felt like he was going to collapse.

“You look so much like your mama…She’s going to adore you…” Egon whispers softly as he carefully picks up the little baby hearing his soft coos making him instantly adjust to keep him close to his chest. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere…I’m right here”

______

In the middle of the night, Egon woke up to the side of the bed being empty making him start to worry that Y/N was in pain somewhere. Three weeks into having a newborn and his wife still recovering from surgery, drove him nuts when there wasn’t a sound in their home and an empty spot right beside him.

Quietly but quickly searching their place to find Y/N in the rocking chair in the nursery. Their little boy sleeping comfortably in his crib as she watches him from where she sat. Egon slowly approaching and making sure she knew so she wouldn’t freak and wake the baby.

“Are you okay?“

“Sorry…Couldn’t sleep. I never met such a quiet calm baby, I got worried something happened that I got up” Y/N sighs, leaning into Egon as he brought her close while he stood beside her.

“I freaked out my parents. I was a quiet baby”

“Mm. Reassuring, at least nothings wrong” She sighs resting her head into his side both watching the sleeping baby. “If Peter calls him Charlie I’m killing him”

“Yknow it’s gonna happen from him before his future classmates right?”

“Don’t think too ahead! Charles will forever be my little baby” Y/N smiles up at Egon as he took the opportunity to kiss her, shortly after their son started to stir a bit. No loud cries erupted but soft discomfort ones.

Egon carefully pulls himself away from Y/N to walk over to the crib gently scooping him up. “You’re very lucky both of us were here”

“He’s absolutely perfect” Y/N joins Egon at his side looking at the little baby. “But since you picked him up…you’ll change him” she quickly ran off to let Egon “suffer” as he hopes she went to bed if she’s not doing it this time around.

A few more weeks went by, enough for Charles to have his first wellness exam and Egon of course to hover the entire time that was happening. He took that day as an opportunity to finally be more open to taking his son out into the world even if the first time he did such, Y/N wasn’t informed.

“RAYMOND”

Ray suddenly hits his head under Ecto before pushing out to find an angry Y/N glaring into his soul.

“What did I do?”

“Where’s. Egon.”

“Egon’s here? I swear I’m the only one here today…” Ray slowly sat up only for Y/N to grab his shirt pulling him to his feet and shaking him. “Y/N I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE EGON IS”

“HE HAS MY BABY—-I KNOW VIGO ISNT AROUND SO HE FUCKING DOESNT. BUT ONLY EGON WOULD DO SHIT WITHOUT TELLING ME FIRST”

“STOP SHAKING ME FOR AN ANSWER WHEN I HAVE NO IDEA!”

The two stopped yelling when crying was heard and without a second of thought, Y/N pushed Ray over and ran toward the lab.

“I swear the Spenglers are gonna be the death of me” Ray sighs laying on the floor for a moment.

“I’m sorry that was a loud noise…I’m so sorry” Egon apologizes for scaring his son stepping away from the containment unit as he now makes a mental note not to bring his son when he needs to do more extensive calculations for the unit.

“Spengler”

Egon froze in place holding Charles closer to him slowly turning around to his angry wife that had no idea he took his son to work with him.

“You’re lucky you’re holding him”

“…why?”

“Because I’m very tempted to s-smack you” Y/N suddenly started crying out of relief even if she knew that their son would be with his father. Her anger shifting to relief just turned it all into tears still feeling all kinds of feeling given everything.

“Come here, honey” Egon carefully places Charles into her embrace before bringing them both into his. “I’m sorry I should’ve told you”

“You should’ve!” Y/N gently caressing her son’s little cheeks as he snuggles into her embrace enjoying both of their warmth. “Taking my mini spengler away when I’d much rather have both of you home”

“Your mini Spengler?” Egon chuckles softly, kissing the top of her head. “I swear he’s going to turn out—“

“If you say like me. That’s dead wrong. He’s going to be just as smart as his daddy and sneak off to do science experiments with his dad and uncles”

“Mmm. True…I’ll take that. But he’ll be patient and kind to everyone he meets like his mama” He smiles resting his head on top of hers. “And maybe a little crazy like her too”

“I hate you” Y/N says through laughter as Egon brought himself to look her in the eye smiling more than before.

“And I love you, Spengler”

[fortheboyzzz]

headcanons for klaroline being endgame and lizzie josie and hope being sisters?

A/N: I just want to carify this is far far away from any universe where I ship Hizzie or Hosie.

The Mikaelsons happily welcome the three newest members of their family.

Especially after seeing how happy Klaus was on his and Caroline’s wedding day.

Hayley and Caroline patch all the high school drama up and often invite each other to have drinks as they bond over how much of a handful Klaus can be.

Meanwhile Klaus and Alaric refuse to be within less than ten feet of each other.

But Klaus loves the twins like they're his own.

The twins just admire Hayley.

And Caroline assures Hope that she’s not trying to replace her mom.

Freya loves to help Josie with her magic.

She’s also the one to sit down with both her and Lizzie to talk about the merge when they’re old enough.

Rebekah thoroughly enjoys taking Lizzie shopping any chance she gets.

Partly because she loves hearing all the gossip and shit talking, especially about Dana.

Neither Hayley, Marcel, or the rest of the family mind looking after the girls when Klaus and Caroline are away.

Klaus has offered the twins their own rooms but they’re content with sharing.

The girls make for an interesting dynamic.

“Lizzie, I told you to stay out of my room!” Hope angrily barges into the twins’ room.

“I didn’t go into your stupid room.”

“Then how did my headphones go missing?”

“Sorry,” Josie says shyly, putting her book down. “I lost mine so I borrowed them.”

Hope definitely has a bit of a bias towards Josie.

They just get along easier.

 On the other hand, she and Lizzie are always bickering and throwing remarks at each other.

And with the amount of peeple who’ve tried to come after Hope, Lizzie has definitely told her “I too find your existence annoying.”

 Klaus wants to rush to every argument he hears but Caroline says that they need to work it out themselves.

Lizzie and Hope constantly throw the “you’re not my real sister” card at each other.

Until Hope accidentally takes it too far and says “And Caroline’s not even your real mom!” in front of Caroline and instantly regrets it.

Klaus scolds her for it and tells her to apologize.

Since Hope doesn’t rely on Alaric to fulfil a father figure role, his relationship with the twins is healthier.

But with them slowly spending more and more time in New Orleans, that mixed with his resentment towards Klaus, Alaric starts drinking.

Which Caroline finds out when the girls  get back and Lizzie  goes straight to her room without saying a single word.

“Dad’s drinking again,” Josie says before going to cuddle with her sister.

Klaus is ready to tear him a new one but Caroline beats him to it.

Then she files for full custody.

Hope tries to comfort them with ice cream but just ends up joining the cuddle session.

There’s one time where Klaus finds Lizzie in the aftermath of an episode and rushes to make sure she’s okay.

“Do you think I’m broken?”

 His heart aches at the question, “If you’re broken then are a mosaic, your imperfections are what make you beautiful.”

And he later hangs up a mosaic above her bed.

That was their bonding moment.

 For Klaus and Josie’s moment, it was after she went dark.

She isolates herself for a while until Klaus comes to comfort her.

And makes a joke about her still being  a saint on her worst day compared to Elijah on a good day.

Caroline and Rebekah bumping heads when it comes to planning events, like the twins’ birthday party.

Family vacations.

Klaus pushing for Hope to tag along on family excursions.

Klaus being equally over protective of the twins’ dating life.

Josie, as embarrassed as she may be, tries to get her partners to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Lizzie on the other hand decides that sneaking around is the better option.

Until she gets caught.

“You’ve been sneaking out?!” he says, catching her climbing out the window.

“And skipping class,” Hope chimes in.

Which leads Lizzie to bring up Roman to throw some heat off of her.