#they didn’t even have a pride month table smh

[abba-enthusiast]

SHUT UP. SHUT UP! SHUT UPPPPP

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

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A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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[itsallyscorner]

Ik someone else already asked for like a delivery part (and honestly, that would be amazing. Like imagine the girls reacting to Baby Mix casually dropping it in their chat). But, also imagine Tom and Y/N haven’t released anything to the public and Perrie (my loose-lipped queen) let’s it spill over a virtual interview or something, how chaotic would that be????

Anyway, I truly loved your Baby Mix stories. You’re combining two of my favourite things so effortlessly. Thank you💜💜💜

Hello my love! So sorry for the long wait, I hope you don’t mind! Thank you for requesting this and being so patient with me❤️ I’m so glad you’re enjoying the Little Mix reader! stories🥰 I haven’t written a delivery part yet but I already had an idea of how I wanted to write this so...here ya go! Happy reading🤎🧸

💌.

Meet Aunty Pez

She would be the best aunty in the world, ugh🥺 Also I’m so sorry I haven’t been active, school has been keeping me busy, but hopefully it’ll ease up soon! Sending all my love to all of you💞

At 3:14am, on an early Monday morning, the bundle of joy that you and Tom have been waiting nine months for has finally arrived. After hours of enduring pain and labor, Amelia May Holland was born. Weighing at 7.5 lbs, she had the same bright chocolate colored eyes as her father, gorgeous brown hair, a mix of your and Tom’s nose, and thankfully she inherited your lips. She was a precious little thing, always cradled in the arms of either of her parents, since they both couldn’t believe she was finally in the real world with them.

The sun casted soft rays of light into the hospital room you and your little family occupied. The warm light added to the peaceful atmosphere you were all currently in. You were sat against the hospital bed, cradling Amelia in your arms, while you and Tom stared at her in fascination. You lean your head against Tom’s shoulder, eyes never leaving your baby girl, who’s nose momentarily scrunched up.

Softly chuckling, you glance at Tom, “Not even a day old and she’s already doing a habit of yours.” The gentle smile grows even wider on Tom’s lips, a sense of pride rushing through his veins.

“Well she’s definitely her father’s daughter.” He hums, his arm around your shoulder pulls you flush against his chest. Tom hides his face in the crook of your neck, placing feather light kisses onto your skin trailing down to your shoulder, where he rests his chin.

“I can’t believe we made her. Isn’t she the most gorgeous baby in the world?” He speaks in a hushed voice, cautious of startling his newborn daughter awake. He gazes at Amelia with a fond expression on his face, large fingers gingerly reaching out to softly stroke the back of his baby’s hand. She’s only been here a few hours and she’s already wrapped him around her dainty little fingers. He would go to extreme measures to do anything for her and to make sure she lived the best life she can. She was to be treated like a princess in his eyes; because she was his princess and you’ve been bumped up to be his queen.

“She’s all we’ve ever wanted.” You turn to face Tom over your shoulder. The whole morning, ever since you gave birth, the two of you spent most of the time admiring Amelia and would burst into tears at how proud you were of each other. Not only had you both just made the most precious baby in the world, but this was a new chapter in your lives. A new experience of life with a stronger bond, full of love, and years of memories that’ll be looked back on in the future.

Tom shifts his gaze to you, the look in his eyes changing to adoration. He tenderly kisses your lips, repeating the actions a few more times before speaking. “Thank you so much for this. Thank you for being an amazing wife and giving me a family. I love you so, so, so, so, much. You have no idea.” He brushes his nose against yours, shutting his eyes, to savor the meaningful moment.

“I wouldn’t be doing this with anyone else but you. You’re gonna be such an amazing dad.” You beam at him. Tom softly chuckles, leaning his forehead against your temple, “God, I hope.”

“You will, you’ll be the best one in her eyes. I already know it.” You reassure him, pecking the corner of his mouth. You turn your attention back to Amelia, who was still sleeping peacefully in your arms.

“So when should we tell everyone?” Tom asks, resting his chin on your shoulder again. You lean the back of your head against his shoulder, making yourself comfortable in his arms.

“I think we should tell our family and friends first. I’m not ready to share her to the public yet, I want her to only be ours for now.” You quietly explain. You feel Tom smile against your skin.

“Of course, darling. Whatever you’re most comfortable with, that’s what we’ll go with.”

(Y/n)🌻: sent a photo

We thought Amelia might want to pop in and say hello to her favorite aunties for the first time!❤️

Perrie🦋: oh my goodness! Congratulations🥳🥳 I’m over the moon for the both of you!!

Oh she’s precious! Look at those cheeks!! I can’t wait to meet her🥺

Jade💜: OMG WE SHARE THE SAME NAME!!

I’m so happy for you and Tom!! You guys are going to be the most amazing parents in the world!❤️

Leigh-Anne😻: Baby Amelia, you are the most adorable baby I’ve ever seen!!!😍 Babe, you and Tom have some really good genes👀

Congrats you two!! I’m so proud of you both❤️❤️❤️

Jesy💖: Thank god Amelia got (y/n)’s genes for her lips!!😂😂 I can’t imagine another loose-lipped Holland!

I’m so happy for you guys!! I can’t believe you’re already a mum, darling🥺 We love you so much and can’t wait to see you and Baby Amelia❤️

(Y/n)🌻: You guys🥺🥺 I can’t wait to see you all and get out of this hospital! This bed isn’t doing anything for my back😭

Perrie🦋: You must be so exhausted lovey, how are you doing? I hope everything went well during delivery!

(Y/n)🌻: Very painful, I felt like I was about to pass out omg😭 The doctor kept on telling me to push, I didn’t know if I was shitting myself or pushing the baby out😭

Tom’s been amazing the entire time. Bless him, I think I broke his hand while I was pushing :(

Jesy💖: Omg!! What was Tom’s reaction to childbirth?!!

(Y/n)🌻: If you thought he couldn’t get even paler, you thought wrong! He was as white as the walls in the room😭😭 He was a good sport through it all though!

Also, Amelia’s crying. I’ve got to go, I’ll talk to you girls soon!! And good luck with the interview today, you guys are gonna smash it xx

Perrie🦋: Don’t worry about us! You’re officially on maternity leave now! We’ll send your regards for the interviewer❤️

Leigh-Anne😻: Look at our baby mama! We love you❤️❤️❤️

Jade💜: Say hello to baby Amelia and that Aunty Jade loves her🥰

Jesy💖: ^Kiss ass, she’s not even a day old and the competition for best Aunty has already begun smh.

Bye darling, we’ll catch up with you soon❤️

You smiled at your screen before turning it off and placing it onto the table beside your bed. Tom was pacing the room, cradling Amelia against his chest. He was gently rocking her back and forth, alternating from shushing her to humming some sort of tune underneath his breath. You sat back and admired the curly headed boy that’s claimed your heart. Not only was he the love of your life but he was also the father of your child. Sure you guys were young, both in your late 20s, but the daddy role definitely fit Tom perfectly.

Tom must’ve felt your stare because he turned around and sent you a tired smile. He walked towards your bed and motioned for you to lay down. Using one had to cradle Amelia, he used the other to help you get comfy in the hospital bed. Still with one hand, he fixed your hair on the pillow so that it was away from your face. His large calloused hand cradled your jaw, “Get some sleep, darling. I know how tired you are.”

You pouted at him, “But what about Amelia?” He shook his head, his thumb stroking your cheek, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll try and get her to sleep. You just close your pretty eyes and get some rest in.”

“What if she’s hungry?”

“If she doesn’t fall asleep, then I’ll wake you up. Just please get some sleep, love. You haven’t taken a proper nap since this morning and I know you’re already close to knocking out.” He reasoned with pleading eyes. You sigh finally giving in, lazily nodding in response. Tom beams at you and leans down to place a tender kiss onto your lips.

“I love you both.” You mumble against his lips. He pecks your lips once more, “And we love you too, mummy.” The moment you closed your eyes, you were out like a light.

You managed to take a nap for about half an hour until you felt a few pats on your shoulder. You were immediately awake, turning your head to look for Amelia. You looked at the hospital bassinet, where you could see her sleeping peacefully.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Tom. He was sat beside your bed with his phone held in his hand watching something.

“I’m so sorry for waking you, but you should see this.” He apologized with a pitiful smile. He scoots closer to the bed so you can look at the screen. Your brows furrow together in question as you stare at Tom; it was the girls’ interview.

“Just watch.”

“Hello ladies! Thank you for joining me today!” The interviewer started. A round of “hellos” and waves were seen on the recorded Zoom session.

“Thank you for having us!” Leigh-Anne said.

“Yeah, it’s always a pleasure to be on your show, Zach.” Jade gushed. Zach made a show of flattery making them all laugh.

“I mean I guess I should start by asking how are all of you?”

Jesy was the first to answer, “I’d say we’re all doing pretty good, aren’t we girls? You know—just trying to get by especially with all that’s going on in the world.”

Perrie agreed, “Yeah, we’re lucky enough to be healthy and have the privilege to work. So I’d say we’re very blessed and making the best out of situation.”

“That’s great for you girls. AND speaking of making the best of the situation, thank you for giving us entertainment! I’ve been watching The Search and I’m absolutely obsessed.” Zach began, complimenting the show. He continued, “Although I did notice, that there’s only four of you at the moment, and in the show. How is it like to not have (y/n) around?”

Jesy pouted, the other girls having familiar reactions at the lack of your presence.

“As much as we miss her, it’s best for her and the baby to stay home and away from the public. When it comes to your career or family; family comes first, so it was totally understandable.” Jesy explained.

Jade chirped in, “Well, she’s not completely missing out. She’s had a few virtual appearances on the show and we’ve all been in contact, we always know what she’s up to.”

“How’s she doing? With the baby preparations and all?” Zach asked the girls. Their faces immediately brightened with joy, especially Perrie how squealed and clapped her hands in delight.

“Oh she’s doing wonderful, we were just texting her! She’s officially on maternity leave!” Perrie cheered. On the screen, Jesy eyed Perrie warily.

“Officially on maternity leave?”

Perrie smiled widely, “Yes, she is! She sent us a photo of the baby in our group chat and my goodness! Their baby is so cute, I just want to pinch her little cheeks!”

The three other girls’ eyes widened at the things coming out of Perrie’s mouth too stunned to say anything.

Zach squinted at Perrie, “Wait she’s already had the baby?”

“PERRIE!”

“Yeah, today actually.” The blonde answered proudly.

“PERRIE SHUT UP!”

“STOP TALKING!”

Perrie stopped, looking at the three girls offendedly, “What?”

“Oh my god, she did not.” Leigh-Anne facepalmed herself. Jade’s jaw was slack and Jesy’s eyes were wide with horror.

“Babe, do you know what you just did?” Jesy questioned Perrie, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in stress.

You paused the video, taking in what just happened.

Tom eyed you carefully, “Your phone’s been blowing up consistently. Pez even called me to apologize, she feels really bad (y/n).”

You frowned knowing that Perrie was most likely upset at herself. You’ve been friends with Perrie for years now. It was common knowledge amongst you and the girls that if something big and secretive were to happen, you were to never tell Perrie. Not that you all wanted to leave her out on propose, she just didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. When Perrie found things that made her happy or excited, she didn’t know how to contain her happiness. So it wasn’t completely a surprise to learn she’s told the world you and Tom were finally parents.

Tom noticed that you were still quiet, “Are you mad, darling?”

You shook your head, “No—no, I’m not mad at her. I know Perrie can get too excited sometimes.”

“So you’re okay with this?” Tom asked you, knowing that just an hour ago you said you wanted to keep Amelia away from the public. His hand reaches for yours, grasping it.

You tilted your head at the ceiling, “Yeah, I guess I am? I mean it’s not like she said Amelia’s name or anything. All she told them was that I gave birth already.” You paused and turned to look at Tom.

“Plus, I think she’s saved us the trouble of figuring out how to tell the world about Amelia.” You send him a smile. He reciprocates the action and brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “We don’t have to tell them anything more. All they have to know is that you’ve given birth and our little princess is healthy. Also that we’re very happy. The rest of the details will only be for us. For now.”

“For now.” You confirmed squeezing his hand. You glanced at your phone and motioned for Tom to give it to you. Scrolling through your contacts you clicked on Perrie’s name, “I guess we should call her and thank her.”

You clicked on the FaceTime icon and not even a second later, Perrie immediately answered the call.

“I am so sorry.” She apologized, hand covering her face. You chuckle at her and shake your head, “We’re actually calling you to thank you Pez.”

Her face contorts into confusion, “What do you mean thank me? I just exposed the two of you during a live interview.”

Tom poked his head into frame, “Well one, you’ve announced that Amelia’s here already, so that’s one thing off our list. And two, you just saved me months worth of relief during interviews. Now that everyone knows we have a baby, I don’t need to be scared of accidentally slipping it out when I have to do promos!”

The blonde looked between both you and Tom I’m disbelief, “Are you kidding me? If I knew you two would’ve responded this way I wouldn’t have been spending the last hour beating myself up for it.”

You laughed smiling at her. Perrie beamed at the both of you, “For just delivering a baby, you look gorgeous hun. You’re glowing.”

“Aw thank you, lovey.” You look at Amelia from the corner of your eye. “Do you wanna see her?” Perrie eagerly nods at the camera. Tom takes the camera and rounds your bed to the bassinet. Aiming the camera above Amelia he said, “Amelia, meet Aunty Pez.”

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[butgilinsky]

bp!rafe christmas season,the whole baking cakes,setting up the tree,dancing to christmas love songs thingies

this one got longer than expected and i could’ve written more, honestly. smh i just love christmas. 

rafe loves christmas. 

at the beginning of your relationship, christmas was fairly simple. you’d still spend the majority of the day with your respective family,so you’d have your small celebration with your boyfriends on christmas eve. you’d meet rafe halfway between the cut and figure eight to exchange gifts and celebrate the holiday season together. 

he’d go overboard with his gift, naturally, but it was the only way he knew how to show affection. you’d drive around to look at christmas lights, and you’d of course stop by the diner when people would turn their lights off and tuck in for the night. 

when you’re older and live on the mainland, rafe would go overboard with decorations and dinner. he’d have multiple recipes printed out and taped to different cabinets in the kitchen to help him with dinner. he wasn’t the best cook, but he wasn’t too bad at following recipes. 

one year, you’d have to work late on christmas eve, coming home past nine pm to a table full of food and a small box with a bow on top sitting in front of your unassigned assigned seat at the dinner table. 

you got a real tree every year, much to your dismay. cleaning up pine needles every day was not your favorite aspect of christmas, but rafe needed a real tree to put him in the spirit. decorating the tree had an entire night dedicated to it, that almost always ended with the two of you dancing around your living room, tree half decorated and ornaments scattered across the ground. 

after you two were married with kids, living in a house that would’ve been on figure eight if it were back on the island, you had to stop rafe from going overboard during the month of december. he’d buy your kids way too many gifts, trying his best to keep it even among the three of them. he’d also let them open a few on christmas eve, which you didn’t entirely appreciate. 

he’d buy you a few gifts, but they packed a punch. a new necklace you’d been looking at, a watch to wear while running around the office, a pair of earrings that you didn’t dare ask the price of, a keurig for your office so you didn’t have to drink the shitty break room coffee. 

your electricity bill (that covered the insane amount of christmas lights strung up outside) in december was the source of a few of your fights, but it made it all worth it once your kids came tumbling into your room on their favorite morning of the year. 

reese would crawl up to your side of the bed calmly, though he was wearing the widest grin he could muster, and shake you shoulders just enough to wake you. 

wyatt and isla, however, were the chaotic ones. wyatt would kick the door open, yelling loudly for you and rafe to wake up NOW. he’d climb up onto the bed between you and rafe and jump until one of you physically pulled him down. isla crawled onto her dad’s lap and hit his chest a few times while giggling like crazy. 

rafe would mutter something about getting a rude awakening while reese shook you gently, and you’d just laugh, telling him that he created the monsters, and he’d have to face the consequences. 

truth be told, rafe didn’t hate the rude awakening. if he could wake up like that every morning, to see his beautiful wife and their three gorgeous children, he would with pride. 

[sincerelyreidburke]

Omg can I please have a fic where Quinn (possibly backed by all of SMH) absolutely throws down N*te. And then maybe comforts a Sad Nando bc nando is Soft and needles all the cuddles and support

Okay, this has been in popular demand for quite some time now. It may be 1:31 AM, but I’m counting this as a little birthday present for Nando.

Set during Quinn’s summer in Arizona. :D

//

One of the first steps of taking your boyfriend home for the summer is showing him around.

For the past six days, that’s what Nando has taken it upon himself to do. He can’t believe, actually, that he and Quinn have been home from school for an entire week already— well, a week tomorrow, but still— and yet here they are, arrived at the last day of Nando’s extensive tour of the Phoenix metro area. They’ve spaced it out— something one day, something another— like dinner at Tio’s one night, an afternoon meeting his best friends from home, showing Quinn his childhood rink.

He’s satisfied with his own performance as a tour guide, but tomorrow means his first shift at Tio’s restaurant, which means that summer job season is really beginning. Which, like, obviously he and Quinn can still hang out— they’re living under the same roof; and if it’s not Mama or one of the girls, Quinn is the first person he sees every morning. It’s just that once he has a summer job schedule, their days won’t be entirely their own anymore.

For Quinn, he knows, that might be a little weird, at least for these first three weeks until Gabi and Rosa get out of school. Once they’re done, the summer theatre stuff starts up, and Quinn is getting paid to do that, so he’ll have something to do.

In the meantime, though, Nando knows he brought things with him. Like his knitting stuff. And a few books. And his camera.

And until tomorrow, the time is still theirs.

“Okay, my love,” Quinn says, at the kitchen table, over his toast and eggs. The morning is all theirs; Mama is at work, so once they got the twins out the door and onto the bus, Nando made him breakfast. “What’s on the agenda today?”

Nando grins at him. “Oh, you’re curious?”

He shrugs. “In a way.” He’s wearing a baggy KMH shirt tucked into his pajama bottoms, and he hasn’t even done his hair yet. Nando lives for seeing him like this— his obsessively proper boyfriend, who won’t be caught dead in jeans outside of a party, in his pajamas in his family’s kitchen.

It has been six days, and having Quinn at home has given him enough fuel for domestic daydreaming to last a lifetime.

It’s going to be a good summer.

“Well, I saved a good thing for last,” Nando tells him, reaching for his hand across the table. “We’re going to the beach.”

Quinn raises his eyebrows, skeptical. “In Arizona.”

“Yes,” he chirps back, because two can play at this game. “I’m driving you eight hours south to the ocean. Do you have your passport?” Quinn laughs a little, and he adds, “No, baby, the beach by the river. There’s a little park there. We can sit by the water in the sun.”

“Ooh.” Quinn smiles. “That sounds lovely.”

“But first,” he adds, squeezing his hand. “I’m taking you to my favorite Starbucks.”

Quinn cocks his head, with amusement in his smile now. “You have a favorite Starbucks?”

“You don’t have a favorite Starbucks?” he replies.

“I…” He trails off a little. “I can’t say I do, actually.”

“Well, I’ll educate you.” He brings his hand to his face, kisses it, and says, “Maybe this one will become your favorite.”

Quinn’s smile is the cutest shit he has ever seen. “Maybe so.”

*

In the truck, on the way there, Quinn is watching out the window. “So why is it your favorite?”

“Huh?”

“The Starbucks.” He looks to him across the console. “Why is it your favorite?”

“Oh.” Nando grins. “Well, okay. It’s, like, classic Arizona architecture, and—”

“Wait, you like it because of the architecture?” Quinn chuckles a little. “Are you Ben?”

“Jesus, baby, are you chirping me?” Nando jostles his arm, and Quinn laughs. “You’re a regular KMH member. I’m impressed.”

Quinn shrugs. “I suppose you’re finally rubbing off on me.”

“Wow.” Nando loves his boyfriend. “I’m honored. But FYI, I was only starting with the reasons I liked it.”

“Okay, continue, then.”

“Okay, so it has a lot of really nice outdoor seating.” Nando pauses. “It’s, like, near a shopping center, but it’s separate from the rest of the stores, so it’s not just some ugly spot. They always have the good cake pops, and plus, the manager is cool. They have blue hair and they wear a bunch of pride pins on their apron.”

“Okay.” Quinn nods, as Nando watches him process. Or at least sort of watches him, because he is, technically, still driving a vehicle, cute as the boy in the passenger’s seat may be. “That does sound like a good Starbucks.” He pauses. “What do you mean by the good cake pops?”

“Lemon ones,” he replies. “And chocolate. And, during Pride month, rainbow.”

“Oh my goodness.” Quinn closes his eyes, like he’s having a moment. “Now I’m craving a cake pop.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re on our way there,” Nando replies, and he laughs.

It only takes a few more minutes to arrive. The parking lot is sort of crowded, but it doesn’t look like a mob scene, which is nice. Nando sees an empty table for two under a palm tree on the patio that has their name on it.

“Here we are,” he remarks, parking the truck across the lot from the door. “Our cake pops await.”

Quinn puts on his sunglasses. Their lenses are rose-gold and circular, and he looks criminally adorable in them. And also kind of super hot. That’s the thing about Quinn. He’s the cutest thing in the world and he’s also the source of literally all of Nando’s thirst. And he can turn on a dime. “I’m ready,” he tells him, combing back his hair. Already, with the past week in the sun, it’s gone a little lighter blond on the top. “I’ll have you know, my expectations are extremely high.”

“Oh, this won’t disappoint you,” Nando assures him. “I promise.”

They walk hand-in-hand across the parking lot, and Nando grabs the door for him. Inside is sweet air-conditioned bliss, and it smells like fresh-roasted coffee beans and the bakery case. Nando hasn’t been in here since Christmas break, and it’s been too long.

There’s a small line, but it won’t take more than a few minutes to get to the register. He tries to see who’s working, in case it’s Shai, but he can’t get a good look at the cashier, and there’s no sign of their blue mohawk among the baristas making the drinks.

Shai is actually, like, thirty, and possibly married, but they memorized his drink order in high school and always complimented him on his pride shirts, so they’re one of those older queer people Nando has just imprinted on. And, okay, yeah. He was totally excited to bring his boyfriend in here to meet them. It’s the little things.

Going around town with Quinn is like showing him off, and he has never been happier.

As they get in line, Quinn wraps his hand around his elbow, leaning into him. “It smells good in here,” he hums, with his head against his shoulder.

“I told you,” Nando replies, kissing his temple. “This is a magical place.”

He checks his phone, briefly, while they wait in line; he hasn’t actually looked at it since he woke up this morning. He has a few Snapchats in the cricket group chat, plus one from Nursey (he and Dex just got engaged, which, !!!!!!), and a separate text from Rhodey (it looks like he sent him a TikTok; Rhodey is obsessed with TikTok). He opens the cricket group, turns his front camera on, and snaps a selfie. Quinn is smiling with his cheek against his shoulder, and he himself looks like a little bit of a meme, but Quinn looks cute, so he saves it before he types the caption (coffee run y’all want anything) and sends it through.

In exactly twenty seconds, Rhodey replies. It’s a picture of himself in his work uniform— he delivers pizzas in Providence— and he’s flashing a peace sign at the camera. His hair is in a pink, blue, and yellow striped scrunchie. ya get me an americano. also yall are gay

Quinn snickers. “Well, I would sure hope so, Ben.”

Nando pockets his phone and hooks his arm around his neck. “Super gay.”

Quinn leans into his shoulder. “Mm.” He nods. “The gayest.”

They move forward a spot in line, then another. In fact, they move forward three entire spots without incident. Quinn is humming some showtune— it’s from Spring Awakening; he recognizes it— and Nando is keeping his eyes peeled for Shai, or at least someone he knows. Look at me! I’m in love and I’m happy.

But then God says, be careful what you wish for.

Because as they move into the spot where they’re up next to order, he catches the sound of the cashier’s voice. “... and can I get a name for the order?”

All of the life leaves Nando’s body.

“Holly? Great.” The voice is nasally, and a little artificially cheerful. He hasn’t heard it— outside of a few drunk voicemails— in over two years, but it evokes a visceral reaction in him. He feels sick, all of a sudden. “That’ll be right up.”

He must be tense all of a sudden, because Quinn peers up at him. “Sebastián?” he asks, and what a difference between two voices. “Are you alright?”

He tries to take a deep breath. “I, um.” He pauses. “I think we have to leave.”

“Next customer, please?”

“Leave?” Quinn squints. “But we’re next!”

The people in front of them step to the side counter, and Nando sputters too long. “We, uh—”

But when the way is clear, it’s too late. “Sebby!”

Nando wants to die.

“Holy shit!” Nate has a different haircut, and a Starbucks apron, but otherwise he’s the same— the same pasty pale skin, the same bony stature, the same face so easily twisted into a scowl. Right now, though, he’s smiling, which, honestly, is an expression that looks alien on him, based on Nando’s memory. “You didn’t tell me you were home from school!”

What he wants to say is, Nate, why the fuck would I tell you I was home from school, but what he does say is, “Uh, hi.”

He is going to cringe himself to death. He’s been home for no less than six days, and he is already running into his ex with his boyfriend.

When did he start working here?

“It’s been forever!” As Nate keeps on this weirdly cordial tangent, Nando feels Quinn still next to him. Quinn knows vaguely what Nate looks like, but what he knows better is the way he used to act, and the fact that he used to call him Sebby. Also, he’s wearing a nametag. And Nando feels as stiff as a board. “How’ve you been?”

Very carefully, Quinn unwinds his arm from his, and takes a firm, obvious grip on his hand.

“Jeez, I keep trying to reach out to you,” Nate continues, like they’re old friends running into each other, and not exes with a toxic history. “We really should catch up sometime, now that you’re in town.”

Nando takes a long breath, like it’ll fix the tension in his chest. He squeezes at Quinn’s hand, which helps a little. Quinn leads when they step up to the counter, and he inhales like he wants to order, but Nate is still fucking going. “Who’s your friend?” he asks.

“Boyfriend,” Quinn blurts, in his I’m pissed and I mean business voice, which, thank God for this boy. “I’m his boyfriend.”

Nate raises his eyebrows a little, looking at Quinn like he’s a five-year-old having a tantrum. “Oh,” he says, shrugging. “My bad. Although, I should’ve known.” Nate’s eyes dart to him for a second, and Nando wants to scrub himself clean of that gaze. “He tends to go for the little guys,” Nate continues, to Quinn, gesturing between the two of them like he’s comparing their heights. Then he shrugs again. “Gotta balance it out, y’know?”

Nando’s stomach turns. It stings, so much, and as soon as this is out of Nate’s mouth he feels Quinn squeeze his hand so hard it’s like he intends to break bones. He squeezes right back, and God, he knows it’s cruel and unnecessary and shouldn’t bother him, and it’s been almost three fucking years since he had to deal with Nate, but it still hurts. It hurts just as much as every comment like that did from him. It sends him back to memories of hating and second-guessing himself, and he just. He feels so fucking humiliated.

Quinn takes a very long breath, his eyes on Nate, while he digests this, and then he says, “Can I get a peach green tea, please.” He pauses, still squeezing the circulation out of his hand, and it is the only thing keeping Nando from tearing up. Which is pathetic. But he’s just. It hurts. “And he’ll have a—”

“Mocha frappe. Yeah. I know.” Nate chuckles a little, already grabbing a cup. “Extra whip, right?”

Quinn bristles, face flushing, and finally, Nando finds his voice. “Actually,” he says, “no.” Because even though that was what he was going to order, he doesn’t want to give Nate the satisfaction of thinking he still knows him that well. His Starbucks order may be the same, but there’s so much about him that’s changed since Nate knew him. So much about him that’s better now. Without him. He orders his second favorite. “An iced vanilla latte.” And then, because even though he really doesn’t feel like being polite to him, he feels like Mama might manifest in this Starbucks and kick his ass if he doesn’t say it, he adds, “Please.”

“Hm, my mistake,” Nate says, with a shrug, as he’s writing on the two cups. “I guess you’re a new man, Sebby. We really should catch up.” Quinn’s death grip intensifies, because he knows how much Nando cannot stand being called that. He brings his other hand back to wrap around his elbow, too, like he’s being protective, and Nando has never been more grateful for him.

“Anyway, that’ll be right up.” Nate looks so unbothered, just the way he always did, years ago, when he’d make a comment that left Nando’s self-esteem reeling for days afterward. “I guess I don’t really need your name for the order, huh?”

He’s writing on the cup, and Nando can’t see— or just doesn’t want to— but Quinn must be able to, because he says, “His name is Sebastián.”

Nate raises his eyebrows. “Ooh, feisty.” And of course Quinn sounds mad— but Nate making fun of him will do nothing but add more fuel to the fire. Nate looks to him, past Quinn entirely, and adds, “Does he speak for you all the time like this, or—?”

Nando wants to melt into the floor. “Just give us our total, Nate,” he says, because the faster they can get out of here, the better. Quinn is bristling next to him, but stays quiet. 

Nate sighs, shrugs a little, and punches into the cash register. “If you say so,” he says, then announces, “6.23.”

And he thinks that’s going to be the end, but then, as he’s handing over his card, Nate keeps fucking talking. “Oh!” he says, still all faux-fake. “Sebby, you should take him to the lake. Remember, when we’d go down there in high school?”

Quinn’s grip on him tightens. This transaction cannot process fast enough. “We had a lot of fun,” Nate says, like he’s reminiscing. “Always did. It’s a shame; I feel like we never really had closure.”

Finally, finally, after what feels like a million years, he hands his card back, and Nando pockets it in a hurry. “C’mon,” he says to Quinn, because he cannot stand here for one more second, and as they walk away, Nate calls after them.

“Hey, give me a shout sometime!” He’s doing the fake-smile thing again. “We should really hang out, now that you’re in town again.”

Nando squeezes his eyes shut and takes a tight breath; he didn’t realize it before, but it’s hard to breathe. He feels sick and humiliated and awful, and when they’re far enough away to be out of earshot, he looks to Quinn and whispers, “Baby, I am so sorry.”

Quinn is surprisingly calm, at least in comparison to his clear irritation at the register. He shakes his head and rubs his arm with the free hand that’s not holding his. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I just—” He wants to melt. “I had no idea he started working here; I haven’t even seen him since before freshman year, and it just— like, it figures, right—”

“Sebastián,” Quinn says, and his even voice pulls Nando out of his head. “I’m going to get our drinks, and then we can get out of here, okay?”

Nando lets all his breath out at once, then nods. “I— yeah. Okay. That’s— perfect. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Do not be sorry.” Quinn rises on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. “None of that was your fault.”

Quinn seems surprisingly collected for someone who was just ignored and insulted a minute ago, and Nando has this feeling, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he’s planning something, some kind of revenge— but what could he do, with Nate just working?

They station themselves against the wall by the pick-up counter, and it isn’t lost on Nando how touchy Quinn is being— not that they’d hold back in public for any reason in general, but he’s definitely going the extra mile right now, rubbing the inside of his elbow and leaning his head on his shoulder and holding his hand all at once. Not only is the touch grounding; Nando is also fully aware that Quinn is trying to rub it in Nate’s face should he glance over from his spot behind the counter.

Which, good. Let him fucking stare if he wants to. Nando hasn’t felt that humiliated in a long time.

And he hates that he let it hurt him, that one stupid comment— but it was such a reminder of worse times, times when he’d have to process things like that from the person who was supposed to be his partner all the time, and it was just. It was always hard, and it was always awful, and being with Quinn has helped him work so much on all of that. Quinn taught him, so early on, that he deserved better. Everything with Quinn is better.

He just focuses on holding Quinn’s hand for a minute, until Nate puts their drinks out at the pick-up counter. “Stay here, honey,” Quinn tells him, squeezing his hand before he unwinds his fingers from it. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Nando replies, and watches him go.

Quinn squares his shoulders, takes a short breath, and walks to the counter. Nando is suddenly very aware that something might be about to happen. He leans against the wall and listens in, as he watches Quinn take the two drinks from across the counter.

He’s right. Quinn looks Nate dead in the eye and says, “Hi, could I just remind you of something?”

Oh my God. Nando widens his eyes. Is Quinn about to chew him out?

Nate says nothing, but looks unamused, and Quinn continues. “You broke up with him,” Nando hears him say. “After you cheated on him, by the way. Just in case you forgot.” Nate raises his eyebrows, but stays silent. Quinn is reeling now, and there’s no stopping him. “And I happen to know an awful lot about the way you treated him, and how much that hurt him, so don’t you dare try to act so friendly, like you didn’t break him.” Nando is frozen in place, as Quinn picks up both of the drinks. “He owes you nothing. He clearly does not want to reconnect with you, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to do that either with someone who did nothing but make me feel awful about myself for two years.” Quinn isn’t even making a scene— the only reason Nando can hear what he’s saying is because he’s not standing that far away— but Jesus Christ, if this isn’t the most satisfying thing to witness in the world. Nate is red in the face and absolutely silent, and Quinn is staring daggers at him; if looks could kill, he’d be dead on sight. “If you wanted to be his friend, maybe you shouldn’t have stomped all over his heart.”

Nando cannot believe his ears.

“And,” Quinn adds, like it’s the end of a big monologue, “I’m going to need two straws.”

Nando is so in love with this boy.

He watches, trying not to smile or even laugh, as Nate fumbles into the thing of straws and shoves two in Quinn’s direction. Quinn takes them, flashes a big, stage smile, and says, “Thank you!” before he turns and walks back in Nando’s direction.

The fake smile turns self-satisfied in a second flat, as he meets Nando’s eyes again. Nando is still kind of frozen, but he wants to kiss him, right in the middle of Starbucks.

All he can say is, “Baby.”

Quinn is all smiles. He looks the way he does when he comes out of the stage door after a great show. “Ready to go, honey?”

“Am I ever,” Nando says, and they join hands again as they head for the door. He’s not sure if Quinn knows that he heard what he said. “That… was kind of the most satisfying thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.”

“Oh,” Quinn replies as he sticks his straw into his iced tea, “trust me, Sebastián. It’s the most satisfying thing I’ve done as long as I can remember.” He pauses, as he takes a sip, and then adds, “I’ve been wanting to do that for longer than I can even say.”

“It was hot,” he says, because, well, it was. “And just… jeez, I— maybe something good did come out of this situation.”

“Of course it did,” Quinn replies. His smile is kind of maniacal, and Nando is into it. “I got to have the confrontation of my dreams, and I got an iced tea.” He holds up his drink. “Cheers!”

Nando bumps his vanilla coffee against it and laughs. “Cheers, baby.”

Quinn squeezes his hand. They walk back outside into the summer day, and Nando doesn’t look back.

Not even a glance.

[birlcholtz]

you did bittyholtz so now how about bittyrans

bittyrans you say??? this is so fucking long it’s over 2.5k i’ve written full ass fics shorter than this i am going to bED

it starts with the PSLs, as so many things do. (do they???? idk i’ve only had like 2 psls in my life) PSLs turn into rans and bitty having weekly scheduled ‘get coffee and talk about the absolutely obscene lifestyle choices of the rest of our team,’ featuring holster and jack’s wardrobes, the green couch, and shitty’s inability to chew without talking at the same time, among other things

and THEN ‘coffee and bitch’ sessions turn into 'coffee and talk about whatever u feel’ sessions and eventually it just becomes a Thing. saturday mornings are for ransom and bitty. there’s still a lot of 'coffee and bitch’ happening, because it’s not like holster’s adidas slides and socks combo just went away, but they realize it’s not just expensive lattes and a half decent sense of fashion and hygiene that unites them. 

they deal with academic pressure in such different ways that it’s almost impossible to notice the similarities until they start talking more and more and realize they both feel that pressure (ransom because everything he turns in has to be perfect, bitty because he has a ridiculously hard time concentrating on things that don’t interest him, like for instance many of his classes), it’s just that ransom has nervous breakdowns that feature a lot of crying under the table and bitty bakes things as therapy until he’s forgotten all about whatever he needed to do.

so what happens when eric bittle (unofficially voted cutest member of smh 80 times) and justin oluransi (the most beautiful man at samwell) hang out a lot?

well, the first thing that happens is that people stare at them a lot as they walk around but ransom genuinely doesn’t notice because this happens to him all the time it’s never *not* happened and bitty notices but he figures it’s just because Ransom. u know.

ransom also finds bitty’s vlog, watches like 8 videos immediately (holster: dude are u ok), and barrels into the kitchen with his laptop in hand like BITTY CAN WE MAKE THIS

and bitty’s like oh sure! and ransom’s like. no. i mean can WE make this. i want to learn to make it and bitty’s like FUCK yeah

over the course of learning to make this dish ransom successfully wheedles bitty into letting him be on his vlog, bitty’s subscribers are Shook at this beautiful man just suddenly appearing when bitty has literally never had a guest before. he and ransom struggle to call each other by their first names the entire time and it’s fun and silly and they DO actually get a decent pie in the oven so it’s a success ('teaching my teammate to bake a _____’ sorry i didn’t think of a recipe lol. fill in whatever u want)

and then the comments on that video blow up, mostly with comments about ransom, some are just about how beautiful he is, some are like eric…. >.> why is this man on your channel when nobody else has ever been. eric do you have a boyfriend and where did you find him

bitty reads all these comments and does Not mention them to ransom but he’s mildly flattered that these people just assumed he was dating rans. because it’s hard to stand next to ransom and still feel attractive oops

BUT he also gets a bunch of new subscribers, which is why he asks ransom if he wants to be on the vlog again a few weeks later and ransom is like oh HELL yes

but it’s too late. bitty’s read all the comments asking if they’re dating. he never thought about ransom in that context before but he’s read all the comments now and he can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to date him. oops

they do the second video, and bitty firmly tells himself that they’re just friends and he’s just overthinking all of those comments, but also ransom smiling directly at someone is a force to be reckoned with and bitty literally cannot stop himself from smiling back (it’s a good thing they’re the only ones in the kitchen because anyone else would probably explode from observing it. bitty smiling is much more powerful than he knows)

okay and like. if bitty thought the comments on the first video were a lot. the sECOND video with justin oluransi?? it blows up. particularly because of one part where bitty catches ransom stealing a strawberry and just gasps and goes “justin” and people lose their minds over it. eric is so appalled. justin grins in a way that is only half apologetic and immediately reaches for another one and eric literally almost yeets the pie down the counter away from him. people set it to music on tiktok (i know tiktok wasn’t a thing while they were in college let me h a v e this)

and let it be known, ransom is also reading the comments on these videos, and he sees all the ones asking if he’s bitty’s boyfriend and he’s like haha wait what and tHEn he goes back and rewatches the videos he’s been in and like?? okay he can see why they think that. bitty puts his hands over ransom’s a lot and ransom slings an arm around bitty’s shoulders a lot but that’s just normal for smh??????? right??????? RIGHT??????????

too late. they’re both overanalyzing every single interaction now

(holster: bro did you see this tiktok of you and— ransom: and bitty losing five years off his life expectancy? yeah holster: nono this one’s set to don’t rain on my parade/the sound of silence/et cetera you have to watch it)

ransom still isn’t in most of bitty’s videos because honestly most of his stuff goes way over ransom’s level of baking knowledge. but he still watches them and it’s kind of nice to watch vlogs where bitty is so obviously in his element? the way he talks to the camera is so friendly and charming and the way he bakes is so efficient and professional. and because he’s a masochist he reads the comments on those ones too and finds a lot where people are asking where justin is. but mostly he’s focused on bitty and how obvious it is that this is bitty’s THING. he just exudes confidence and happiness and it’s kind of hypnotizing honestly

(he also goes back to bitty’s earliest vlogs and is like holy shit BABY BITTY. SO SMALL. and bitty in those videos is still charming but a little less calm and collected— the editing is a little less smooth, and he can’t quite stop himself from adding editorial comments about his aunt’s and his mother’s different techniques. it’s kind of adorable. and like, bitty is still adorable— wait what just crossed ransom’s brain???)

because bitty IS adorable, just a little more put together now. he still gets more excited by discussing types of flour than anyone else ransom has ever met, and he still bops along to whatever song is stuck in his head while he bakes, and when ransom sees bitty after bingeing roughly half of his videos and feels something in his chest lighten, he figures that’s probably going to be his new normal.

and people in the comments clamor for more videos with ransom, and ransom sees these comments, and bitty does too, and ransom seeing these comments is why he pokes his head into the kitchen when he knows bitty is filming, silently waves at the camera, and then leaves again before bitty’s even noticed that he’s there. it makes it into the final cut of the video and the comments section goes wild.

ransom and bitty still hang out plenty outside of doing vlogs together— bitty eventually gets a few dollars in ad revenue from the first video ransom was in and insists that they go on a celebratory unscheduled annie’s trip. (annie’s date energy intensifies)

and while they’re at annie’s/hanging out around campus/bitty has let ransom drag him to the library for some reason bitty can’t help but wonder what it would be like if he was actually dating ransom. he can’t deny that he thinks about ransom in that way now— it’s hard NOT to honestly?? like ransom has been objectively beautiful since the first day bitty met him (and before that, but y'know, not as relevant to bitty’s life) and maybe it’s just his imagination but he thinks that ever since they’ve started making these videos ransom’s smiles have lingered just a little longer and there are more of them, too. and the vlogs have also shown bitty a side of ransom that he doesn’t see a lot, because nobody sees it a lot— ransom trying something he isn’t already good at. throwing himself into it with enthusiasm, actually, and that NEVER happens. ransom is not great at handling failure? but bitty gets to see him cut loose and relax and laugh at his mistakes and he kind of loves it and loves this version of ransom he hasn’t seen before

and ransom, for his part, has been steadily falling for the sheer force of bitty’s charisma when he’s doing something he loves, ever since he first found bitty’s vlog. and as he looks closer he realizes it’s not just the vlog— bitty has always had these depths to him, he just kind of lets them out when he’s baking? and ransom feels kind of privileged to be able to see that side of him so regularly

(also i’m just saying that ransom is very into intelligence and watching bitty fire off answers without even blinking to obscure baking questions where ransom only understands about 30% of the words is a turn on)

but ransom’s become a fan favorite on bitty’s vlog, and he keeps making recurring appearances and even improves a little at baking (which bitty always comments on when he notices an improvement— it’s half chirpy and half genuine pride), and people in the comments BEG them to do a q&a for like. a couple of months. before bitty is like uhhh if i want to make money off of this channel i gotta give the people what they want

so he makes a normal vlog but at the end ransom pops in and they’re like hey we’re gonna do a q&a for our next video where eric answers baking questions and justin is also there since y'all really want him there for some reason??? (but bitty says it nicer and less confused than that)

bitty immediately realizes why ppl want ransom to be in the q&a so bad when about 25% of the comments are about baking and the rest of them are about bitty and ransom. roughly three-quarters of THOSE fully assume they’re dating and the rest of them are just asking if they’re dating.

so bitty is like um ransom?? we should probably address this in our q&a?? everyone really wants to know if we’re dating??

and this interaction is incredibly awkward. i need you all to know that. it’s incredibly awkward because bitty is like 'okay so like YES i like ransom in more than a friend way but this is literally the worst scenario ever i literally can’t believe my subscribers are calling me out for making eyes at him’ and ransom is like 'fuck fuck fuck i want to date bitty but i don’t want to make it weird is it weird??? because of his vlog?????? what do i do??????’

but anyway then ransom is like uh yeah we should address that! and then like. says nothing

and bitty’s like uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh. sooooooooooooo. what do we say

and ransom’s like. :0. um. (the amount of ums and uhs in this conversation are astonishing let me say) well. are we dating??

and bitty genuinely can’t tell if ransom actually meant that as a question or if it was sarcastic and he says as much and ransom is like no that was a real question i actually don’t know if we’re dating or not?

and bitty is like holy shit i can’t believe this is happening what the fuck and he says well. we should um. clear that up. before the q&a

and ransom’s like yeah we should. uh. like. we COULD be dating.

and bitty’s like ….yeah yeah we could. are we?

and ransom’s like do you want to be?

and bitty’s like do you want to be?

and ransom’s like i asked first and bitty’s like damn u got me there. and then he’s like yeah i …. kinda want to be dating and ransom is like swawesome me too glad we cleared that up, how was ur lit seminar and bitty is like HOLD ON JUSTIN OLURANSI because did that just fuckin happen??? we can’t just MOVE ON from that conversation that fast????

so they wind up talking about how basically bitty’s vlog inspired Feelings in both of them and it’s very emotional because ransom is like i love that i feel like i can make mistakes around you and bitty is like i love that you put in the effort to learn about what i care about and they go to annie’s because That’s What They Do and get matching drinks as they always do and smile at each other the whole time (bitty is also literally pinching himself because What The Fuck, how did i wheel JUSTIN OLURANSI) and then they go back to the haus and start picking the questions to respond to in their q&a

ransom does get busier and can’t spend as much time in bitty’s vlogs as usual but he helps bitty plan out what he’s going to talk about when, when to post, the ideal ratio of how-to videos versus just answering questions, and with his help bitty’s vlog starts getting a lot of attention and a lot of subscribers, like, exponentially fast

(it helps that they got memed so early on)

(it also helps that their q&a video where they confirmed they were dating was fucking adorable because they talked about how they got together and how a big part of it was bc of bitty’s vlog and it’s just the sweetest goddamn thing and that video totally blows up too)

(intentional celebrity eric bittle. accidental celebrity justin oluransi.)

it gets to a point where bitty is like. making legitimate money from his vlog and he INSISTS on compensating ransom in some way (ransom: i like helping you??? bitty: and i like making my vlog doesn’t mean i don’t like getting things out of it) so they work out a system where ransom gets some money for helping bitty plan out videos and edit and he gets some more for videos he’s in and like?? they’re icons. 

some headcanons: 

ransom successfully convinces bitty to wear sperrys

bitty boops ransom’s nose so often that there are compilations of it

bitty also spends a lot of time with ransom when he’s studying for tests because being just like. physically there, like leaning on ransom’s shoulder or holding his hand helps reassure ransom a little

ransom always holds bitty’s face in his hands before kissing him and bitty thinks it’s the best thing ever

there’s an entire swallow issue about them

bitty’s name in ransom’s phone is 'eric butter

bitty tells his parents ransom has been helping him with his vlog before he tells them that they’re together, and coach is like 'nice’ and suzanne bursts with such effusive joy (because ransom is great with parents) that bitty feels himself grinning

the Thesis Battle of 2017 is less increasingly sneaky methods of convincing bitty to write his thesis and more 'bitty read this article on the pomodoro method and then work on ur thesis for twenty minutes so you can bake pie later’ (dex asks ransom if they should cut off bitty’s oven access and ransom is like hmm. well if u do just make sure it doesn’t affect how the kitchen looks because if he can’t even film vlogs answering people’s questions then he’ll be really frustrated)

ransom and bitty shop for clothes together all the time and when it’s winter clothes it’s a constant battle between things that will keep them warm and things that will look cute. they definitely have discussions where bitty’s like 'okay do you think this is warm enough for me’ and ransom’s like 'no that’s warm enough for me you’re from georgia’

both of their snapchat games are INCREDIBLY strong. ransom’s stories are a work of art and bitty is a master of filters and they are constantly communicating via snapchat

ransom also keeps track of all the memes that surface from bitty’s channel and saves them to show bitty later

bitty’s channel gets bigger and bigger and more and more popular and his creative team gets bigger and more complicated to reflect that? but at the same time ransom is always his no. 1

[yourhero404]

Can we haveca Sero fic? It can be anything, the boi is part of the unappreciated club!! - kenpai

A/N: Yes he is, whatan underappreciated good boy smh. I hope this is okay since you didn’t specify! ^^

SERO

In all honesty, he’dbeen trying for weeks.

He and (Y/n) had beendating for what? A month and a half now? Wouldn’t they start to wonder why theyhaven’t had their first kiss yet? They watch romance movies- surely they’vethought about it, but he was just so nervous.

There’s been severaltimes he stared at their lips to drop a hint as well as leaning into them, butsomething always went wrong- was it his fault?

Their first date foran example, they stuttered out a quick goodnight and rushed into their house,he marked it off as nerves. Then there was the time at the diner where heleaned too far across the table and ended up covered in food as they laughed athim- sure, their giggle was music to his ears, but it wasn’t what he was goingfor. Or, there’s the multiple times Denki had walked in and interrupted bydistracting them with conversation. Oh! That’s right! Who could forget the timehe leaned in so quickly, hoping he could finally get their first kiss, only todry their tears for 20 minutes after head butting them with extreme force. Hewas starting to believe it was hopeless.

But it was all goingto change tonight, he made the promise to himself! They were going on this dateand he would be damned if he didn’t capture their lips this time!

Hand in hand on thechillier than usual night, he marveled at the rose coloured blush that gracedtheir cheeks. They had finished dinner a while ago, but the night was young andneither of them were quite ready to give the other up just yet. Underneath theflood of light, he pulled them into his chest as he leaned against the lamppost. He watched as their smile grew wide, causing the skin around their eyesto crinkle- he couldn’t help but give a large smile in return. They went on forminutes, excited over some story they were telling- he wanted to listen, hereally did, but all he could focus on was the small, blue tint to their lips.He leaned in, only to find his arms empty in the blink of an eye as they ran afew yards away, crouched down in front of a group of ducklings.

With a sigh, he tookup a light jog to catch up and crouch down next to them. They started to rambleon and on about how adorable these baby ducks were, even attempting to pet andplay with a few of them. Once they got a hold of one, they held the little ballof fluff in their gloved hand, holding it out in front of him.

“Give them akiss, I know you want to! They’re so cute! How could you not want to kissthem?” they asked. Their face was beaming with pride at their success ofgetting their hands on one- with a nervous smile and a scratch to the back ofhis next, he mumbled under his breath.

“Yeah, that’swhat I’ve been trying to do-”

“Hmm?” theyhummed, quickly turning the duckling back to face them, completely unaware ofhis mumbled confession. After cooing for a few moments, they allowed theduckling to catch up with its family, suddenly gasping and running towards thefenced overlook of the lake with him trailing slowly behind. They marveled atthe water, eyes shining and another smile tugging at their lips. He watchedtheir eyes dance over the moonlit ripples of the water- the shine on their facewas alluring and he had to catch his breath by taking a moment to look down athis shoes.

“Hey, Hanta? Doyou ever wonder how the water feels? Is it cold and lonely? Or does the moonkeep it company at night? Oh! Does the water reflect the moon so it can see howpretty it is? Maybe it-”

“Can I kissyou?” he interrupted, raising his flushed face to meet their own. Theyconstantly had so many questions for the world- even if they were odd and fastpaced, he thought it was adorable that they were so curious. He’d love to seethe world from their eyes- but not as badly as he wanted to feel their lipsagainst his own. He figured he needed to ask them bluntly, catch theirattention and hold it, maybe then he’d have a chance.

“Ah,y-yeah,” they muttered. He could tell they were flustered- the crimson ontheir face was no longer from the cold air around them.

He placed a hand ontheir cheek, his eyes flickering between their own and their lips as he slowlybrought his face to theirs. After a large intake of breath, he closed the gap,their lips fitting together with his as he softly pushed against them. A long,content sigh exhaled through his nose before he slowly turned his head todeepen the kiss.

He was ecstatic. Hisheart was beating in his ears, his entire body was shaking- yet he couldn’tfeel the cold surrounding him anymore. The feeling in his chest was heavy- buthe’d describe it as a good feeling. It was deep and warm, it gave himbutterflies and it just felt… right.

After a few momentsthat felt like centuries, he pulled away slightly before pressing his foreheadagainst theirs. The smile on his lips couldn’t have been washed away no matterwhat they said. Their embarrassed babbling only fueled his smile, He strokedtheir cheek bone with his thumb before laughing,

“Finally.”

[onelovewonderwoman]

the bet || part i/iii || fuckboi!peter parker x reader

 oi, I don’t want to make this too long but.... IM BACK smh I’ve been so m.i.a. but that’s literally because I’ve been so busy and have bad writer’s block. Smh this probably ain’t even gon be good. But like I worked hard on it to have meaning and stuff and I rlly hope you guys enjoy it. I just want you guys to get straight to the story because you’ve waited so long for it and I’ve been teasing it sm smh. Just read it hope you enjoy muthertruckers😬

tags : @running-outta-time @i-just-wanna-run-hell @munalisax @themyscirahs @sammie-blogs @geeksareunique @violentlybarnes @geeksareunique

words : 11,197

warnings : fuckboi!peter parker, mild cussing, various mentions of sex, angst, ned needs a hug, peter needs a hug, you need a hug, everyone needs a hug

Masterlist

part ii

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”I bet you your whole Goddamn rep that you couldn’t get weird ass mcgee over there to sleep with you; you know, take her v-card. Before. We. Graduate.”

The words spoken smugly by one of Peter’s multiple friends at the lunch table caught his attention as quick as you could say, “Spider,” The statement challenged him, making him smirk at the smug boy before looking over his shoulder, almost savagely, at the fifteen year old girl huddled in her own little corner of a table in the back, her face morphing as she read through numerous pages of the thick book she held in her hands.

Watching the scene, Peter laughed and shook his head before turning back the group at his table, them looking deeply invested as to what would happen next, he spoke lowly, “Watch me.”

Peter stood from his seat, eyeing the young girl in her plain, baggy shirt, flipping pages quickly as she read vigorously through the book.

Since the eighth grade, Peter found himself sick of being pushed and bullied around by the older, more popular kids. His only friend had been Ned Leeds, one of the smartest kids in Midtown High along with himself, of course.

His patience grew thinner and thinner with the kids who poked and prodded at him for being the smallest out of all the boys, even some girls. They mocked him for his round glasses, and the fact that he only ever had one friend. They teased him endlessly for his stutter and the way he’d get nervous so easily.

So, he decided to change all of it.

He began to work out, growing stronger as years went by; he’d shed his tiny form and instead grew into a lean, muscular type. He traded in his glasses for contacts, dropped Ned, and grew into one of the most attractive boys in Midtown by the tenth grade. Most girls threw themselves at him, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t taken some of them ever so often. The new found confidence allowed him to grow out of his stutter, and rather into a cocky young man whose mouth doesn’t shut when it needs to.

There were the few girls in Midtown who never bothered, the ones he was glad didn’t; truth be told, there were some scary chics at that school.

But you; you intrigued him. He remembered seeing you up in most classes when it would be time to present something. He remembered how you stuttered and averted your eyes from everyone. Your head was always down and lost in your studies. Your [adjective], E/C eyes would always go wide when someone would try and speak to you, which never really happened often. You were quiet and reserved, which is how you liked it.

Peter licked his lips as he walked towards your [adjective] frame, smirking to himself as he walked past the table to greet you from behind.

Head still stuck in your book, you didn’t notice the seventeen year old boy around the table until a hand laid itself on your back, making your body clench and your head shoot to the boy behind you with wide eyes.

“Woah, woah,” Peter placed a hand on your upper arm, “It’s just me. I just want to talk.”

You watched with still wide eyes as he slung a leg over the bench, straddling it as he faced you, he nodded his head over to your book, “So, how's that book? Any good?”

Your mouth opened and closed multiple times, not believing that the most attractive guy in school (who happens to be two years older) was sitting in front of you, you spewed, “I - I - I - uh - I - I don’t - know?”

Peter laughed at her nervousness as she stared at him in shock and suspicion. Her whole body felt numb as she stared at him, fearful of what could happen next, ‘Is someone gonna jump up and prank me or something? Oh God, this could be a prank! No, he’s laughing genuinely. Oh, but what if it’s because someone’s behind me, ready to shower me in rotten eggs or something!’

Your head moved behind you quickly to check if anything was there, then turned back to the brown haired boy, “What… what do you want?”

“What, can’t I make some new friends?” Peter exclaimed falsely before chuckling, “Yeah, even I don’t believe that.”

You rolled your eyes slightly before reaching for your book, only to have Peter’s large hand grab yours, “Hey, hey, hey,” he stopped you, “Seriously though, I came here to ask if maybe you wanted to go out sometime.”

You other hand went to point at you as your face morphed into one of disbelief, mouthing, “Me?”

“Yeah,” Peter went on, smirking to himself as he played you, knowing his friends were watching from afar, he leaned forward a bit, “You’re pretty cute, you know that?”

“I thought,” you gulped, voice small, “I thought you didn’t date. You just, you know…”

Peter laughed again, his eyes examining you as he felt himself succeeding in the first part of his little plan, “Yeah, well, I’m graduating, in what, three months? Yeah. You know, I think it’s time I try relationships.”

“But why me?”

“Why not you?”

You laughed in nervousness, averting your eyes from him now. He spoke again,

“I don’t know how you get home from school, but don’t do it today; we’re going to my place. I’m driving.”

Before you could object, Peter stood up and gave you a wink before walking back to his friends, tugging on his bomber jacket and running a hand through his fluffy, very touchable hair.

‘What. The Hell. Just. Happened.’

True to his word, Peter had been waiting for you outside of the school building, wearing his signature smirk as always.

You watched as he pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you; his hair had been slightly disheveled and he’d shed his bomber jacket, wearing only a black T-shirt that eccentuated his very, very, attractive arms, leading you to believe that he’d just come from Gym class.

Your body tensed as he slung his arm over your shoulder and spoke to you lowly, “Looks to me like you were a bit slow today,” his mouth had been close to your ear as smiled smugly, his soft, brown hair brushing across your cheekbone, “Are you nervous, Y/N?”

“No,” you said quietly, “I just don’t know if you’re gonna murder me or something; this is kind of weird.”

Your own eyes widened at your ridiculous words of concern, Peter laughing loudly as you blushed up and storm.

“I’m not going to murder you,” Peter came down from laughter, looking as genuine as he could possibly muster when he said, “I like you, Y/N, a lot, actually.”

Your hands dropped from your bag straps to your sides, believing the boy’s words, smiling lightly when you spoke softly to yourself, “No one’s ever liked me before.”

Peter felt his smile falter a bit at the words you spoke, feeling only a tinge of guilt creep through; only a tinge, though.

“Welp,” Peter clapped his hands, “Come on, let’s go. My aunt’s not home today, late shift. We got the whole place to ourselves.”

“Okay.”

You were oblivious to the suggestive tone in Peter’s voice, only following him to his car when he slung his arm over your shoulder once again.

“So, you live with your aunt?” You asked once you got into the passenger's seat.

“Yeah,” Peter paused before continuing stiffly, “My, uh, my parents were killed in a, uh, a plane crash.”

Your mouth shaped into an O, turning your head to face forward, hunching in defeat, ‘Why would you ask that, Y/N?’

“Well,” you tried to start up another conversation in the radio-less car, “I live with my mom. My parents are divorced and stuff, so, um,”

You looked over at Peter as he gave a distracted “Mhm,” staring at the road ahead of him until you stopped at a light.

“So, I’m just asking,” his head turned to look at you, “You’re a virgin, right?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, mind blazing over in immediate anger. Shaking your head, your voice wavered, “I knew it. I knew all you wanted to do was get in my pants, ‘cause that’s all you ever want to do! You’re an asshole-,”

“Woah, hey, calm down,” Peter grabbed your wrist to stop your exaggerated hand movements, beginning to drive with the other hand as the light turned green, “I’m not trying to get in your pants. I meant it when I said I like you and want to try this relationship thing. I just want to know the boundaries.”

Peter felt a boost in pride as he lied himself through the situation after having slipped up with the previous question.

Your shoulders slumped, “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘Oh’.”

You mumbled a sorry before keeping quiet the rest of the ride, internally scolding yourself for being so quick to assume things about him; which is something that probably happened a lot, and something you swore you’d never do to anybody, always having been judged as the weird, loner in everyone’s eyes.

“We’re here.”

You were brought back to reality when you heard Peter’s voice. He’d parked on a busy street beside an average apartment complex, ‘Huh, I would’ve thought he lived in a huge mansion or something,’ you shook your head at your thoughts, ‘You’ve been reading way too many cool, bad boy novels.’

After getting out the car, Peter led you to the front doors. The two of you made it to the elevator before Peter reached down and grasped your hand tightly, making you give him a questioning look, “You just look really beautiful, you know?” He paused, “And that doorman’s looking at you real funny.”

You blushed as red as a fire truck, not believing the words coming out of his mouth as something he’d say on the norm, “What’re you trying to do?”

“Be boyfriend like?” Peter tried, only to have you give him a deadpan look.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open for the two of you to step in before they slid close again, leaving the two of you in privacy.

“Listen,” Peter started, “My friends don’t think I can be in a relationship. I don’t even think I can, but you’re the only girl who’s not throwing herself at me or who doesn’t want me at all. So, please, just give me a shot. At least ‘till you can get rid of me by graduation.”

“I will,” you smiled, “I’ll give you a shot, Peter.”

While you felt a huge burst of trust in him and that he wouldn’t cheat on you with his habits of sleeping around, Peter felt a huge burst of success as you believed his little sob story.

‘Got her trust.’

“You wanna go on a date tonight?”

Was the first thing Peter had said when he showed up at your locker the next day.

“I mean, I was just at your house yesterday and stuff,” you were shocked at his eagerness to go out with you, “No one usually wants to hang out that repetitively.”

Peter chuckled, “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly no one.”

You nodded and laughed to yourself, “Noted.”

You took the next few moments to stare into the boy’s doe eyes. It felt as though you could gaze into them forever and never get bored of the colour most people call plain and unoriginal; it was like the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen.

“So where are we going tonight?” You broke the silence, stepping back when you realized just how close the two of you were.

Peter thought for a moment before saying, “Just be pretty. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

With that, he left, leaving you with slight butterflies in your stomach. You smiled to yourself and thought, ‘He likes me.’

Getting home at 3:15 left you only 3 hours and 45 minutes to get ready for your date with Peter.

It was go time.

You spent about an hour and a half searching and searching through multiple outfits you could wear, wondering why in the Hell you had so many black leggings in your Goddamn drawers. You finally settled on a short sleeved, navy dress that went down to mid thigh with black flats.

After decided on your outfit, you decided that it had been so tiring that you needed a power nap. A fifteen minutes nap soon turned into a one hour and fifteen minutes nap.

By that point, you found that it had been 5:00 p.m. You had managed to take a shower and get your hair and makeup done in the record time of one hour and a half.

After changing and brushing your teeth, you collapsed onto your couch with 23 minutes to spare.

After only ten minutes, you heard the doorbell ring, shouting a “I’m coming!” before getting up and opening the door for whoever stood behind it, presumably Peter.

You were right; but, oh, did he look handsome. His normal fluffy hair had been gelled back neatly, and he wore a black dress shirt instead of the usual tight Tee. In his hand he had a single rose,

“I heard guys give girls flowers and stuff on the first date, so,”

He handed the rose to you, which you took gently and placed in quickly in the flower pot, that occupied other sorts of beautiful flowers, next to the door inside.

“So, now can you tell me where we’re going?” You asked once you stepped outside and began towards the car.

“Uh, yeah,” Peter opened the car door for you, “See, my aunt’s Italian,” he shut the door after you’d taken your seat, jogging over to the other side and opening the door, continuing to speak, “and, ever since I was young, she’d take me to this little Italian restaurant. We don’t go much now, but I figured it would make a good date scene. You’re okay with it?”

You smiled at the sentiment, “Yeah, it sounds great.”

Peter gave a tight lipped smile, “Cool.”

You both drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments before it was broken by Peter, asking, “So, have you ever had any past boyfriends?”

You squinted, “What kind of question is that to ask?”

“Well,” the car stopped at the light, the roads hadn’t been all that busy that night, “I just assumed since you agreed on a date with me, but girlfriends?”

“No!” You exclaimed, calming when you said the next words, “No, I just… you just shouldn’t ask someone that on the first date. It’s not necessarily the best topic, you know.”

Peter began driving once more, “So what, did you have a bad breakup or something?”

“No,” you mumbled, “I’ve never had a boyfriend.” ‘Hence my shock when you asked me out.’

Peter gave a ‘Hmph’ before pulling the car into a small parking lot next to a small looking, yet cute, restaurant, “This is it.”

You stared at the place while Peter looked for a parking spot, admiring the small candle lit place. The few windows it had had couples sitting by them, smiling and chatting happily. Numerous flower pots surrounded the tiny building, some even hanging from the entrance.

Once he’d parked, the two of you got out of the car. Peter reached to grab your hand as you walked, sending an warm, fuzzy feeling through your body.

“This is really something.” You looked over at Peter as you said that.

He smiled to himself, “Yeah.”

Once the two of you entered the restaurant, you watched as Peter interacted with the staff he knew oh so well. They greeted him with hugs and “Where have you been?”s. You watched as his smile broadened as it all happened; it was… heartwarming.

Soon enough, one of the waiters lead the two of you to a table, leaving soon after to tend to another one.

You spoke up, “It must be cool,” Peter’s attention shot to you, “I mean, to have what you have with the people here.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked you up and down, genuinely intrigued with your statement, ‘Most people wouldn’t think that. I guess you like the little things, huh?’, “Yeah, it is cool.”

As you both say in silence for a few moments, your eyes scanned the inside of the building, admiring the unique oil paintings that hung from the walls. The lights were laced with intricate designs, hung lowly from the ceiling, and lit dimly as many candles were sprawled out on each table. Single followers occupied them as well, ranging from roses to daisies.

Peter’s voice broke through your trance with the interior when he asked, “So your parents are divorced?”

“Oh,” you shook your head in nonchalance, “Yeah, it happened a long time ago. It’s really nothing. Everything’s cool between them.”

“That’s good,” he replied, “What about siblings?”

“Don’t have any. Hey,” you leant forward on your elbows, giving him a challenging yet playful look, “You seem to want to know an awful lot about me, you know, after the first drive together; what about you?”

“What about me?”

“I mean,” you slumped back in your chair, “I know that you get all the girls, and that you have a whole ton of friends, and you’re cool and all that, but I don’t know anything beyond that; and I don’t think your friends do too, huh?”

Peter only stared at you in what looked like resentment, but what was really shock at your observation.

You smiled knowingly, “So, I’m not wrong?”

Peter quickly brushed off your comment, replying with, “Let’s just order something.”

You mouthed “Okay” before bringing your head down to look at the menu, which had assortments of food that looked and sounded to be delicious.

A few more moments passed in silence until you heard Peter speak up again, raising your head up to face him, “I like science.”

He doesn’t know what appalled him to say that; a part of his old self, he guesses. The fact that someone, other than his aunt May, is wanting to get to know him, the real him, made him feel something he never thought he’d feel. You wanted to know the little, scrawny kid he used to be; and you seemed to like it by your reaction.

You bite your lip as you fought a smile, “You know, I just so happen to like science too.”

“Cool.” His smile was tight lipped.

‘Who said it was gonna be easy?’

“Peter, come on, don’t deny that Harry Potter is better than Star Wars. You just can’t!” You exclaimed as you walked beside the doe eyed boy.

Two weeks had passed since the date; since you’ve gotten to know Peter more than he wished for you to know him, and visa versa. Yeah, you were sneaky like that, despite all everyone could say is how nervous you get with people.

It had been a week, however, since Peter had stolen your first kiss. You had had another date just a week ago, where he took you to a fair going on for the school. He’d planted one of the most sweetest, gently kisses on you that, truthfully, shocked him more than you. The majority of the time, everything was rough with him. However, he found himself feeling the need to treat you as he saw you; sweet and delicate.

“No,” Peter stopped walked to face you, using gestures when he said, “Y/N, you’re delusional!”

“Says the boy who considered following the trend of bleaching their hair white.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes widened, “How did you-,”

You put your hands on your hips, “Don’t think I didn’t see your gaze linger on that bypasser’s Goddamn yellow hair.”

“Observant. Noted.”

You smiled in accomplishment before Peter reached for your hand once more, grasping tightly for a reason he could not fathom,

“You suck.”

“You swallow.”

Peter’s head shot to you at your sudden words, making you blush and clear your throat, speaking sheepishly, “Sorry, force of habit.”

Peter eyebrow raised this time, making your eyes widen at the unclear explanation, “No! Not like that! I just mean-,”

Peter laughed, cutting you off, “I know what you mean, don’t worry.”

“Phew.” You somewhat leaned on Peter’s side as you resumed walking, only to be stopped by a loud shout from behind you,

“Hey, yo, Parker!”

“Shit.” Peter uttered under his breath, looking over at your concerned face.

The two of you turned to find a pack of his friends walking over to you, bumping into each other as they laughed and shouted with deep voices, cockiness the only thing evident on their facial expression.

“Hey, Parker,” Mark, the friend who’d bet Peter two weeks ago, looked you up and down as though he was eyeing his prey, “How’re you doing this fine afternoon.”

“Fine,” Peter said stiffly, releasing his hand from yours and crossing it over his chest, “What are you doing here? This isn’t really your scene.”

“Thought we’d find a new one, you know, keep it,” Mark smiled maniacally and winked at you, “fresh. Catch the best things here, dontcha?”

“So, you’re dating now, huh,” another one of Peter’s friends, Calvin, spoke up, “Thought you only took virginities.”

“Yeah, well you thought wrong,” Peter said through his teeth as he gestured towards you with his eyes, unbeknownst to you, “Now, leave. You’re ruining this shot I got.”

“Hold on just a second,” Mark raised his hands in defence, “I’m sure the guys would like to get to know your little girlfriend. Check her out, you know?”

‘Oh, I know perfectly well.’ Peter thought to himself.

As the boys started questioning you while they smiled maliciously and knowingly, Mark leant over to Peter, speaking lowly,

“Everything’s going pretty well for you, huh,” He leant closer to the boy’s ear as he stayed stiff, eyes staring forward, “Let’s up the ante; v-card, one month before graduation. 200 bucks; my old man’s loaded. Unless you’re too chicken. It’s just your reputation, nothing else really.”

Peter’s face stayed hard, feeling some guilt creep up on him as he watched your nervous face interact with his friends.

Only some guilt, though.

He gulped, face still straight, “Deal.”

“Perfect.”

Peter continued to watch your face as it morphed into different expressions. Your hair flew with the wind, the sun reflecting your eyes perfectly; the very ones he stared into when you’d gotten him to crack on the first date.

‘It’s a bet. Don’t be stupid.’

“Peter!” You squealed, “Put me down, now!”

Peter laughed and threw you onto his couch, playfully pouncing on you,

“Now,” he cracked his knuckles and smirked, “Since you couldn’t take that, let’s see how you take this.”

His hands moved down quickly as he began to tickle you all over your stomach, making you burst into laughter and gasp for air,

“Stop! I give in! I give in,” Peter stopped his movements as he continued to straddle you, leaning over as his body shook of laughter, you said remorsefully, “I hate you.”

“The door’s that way.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. You smiled in admiration when he ran his hand through his soft, brown hair, falling in love with the fact that all he wore at home were shirts with stupid, little science puns, and sweaters that had “Midtown High School”,“Harvard”, and various more things imprinted on them.

Slowly, but surely, you noticed Peter leaning over to you, eyes slightly hooded as he stared at you lips, “I don’t think my aunt’s going to be home any time soon.”

You stared at his lips, muttering a distracted “Cool.” Before connecting eyes with him, leaning in closer and closer, until your lips grazed his and-,

“Peter!” You heard a shout as the front door bursted open, “Sorry I’m so late, hun, I got caught up at work.”

You heard footsteps coming your way, making you both completely move apart from each other. You saw his aunt May turn the corner, not facing the two of you just yet,

“Good news, though, I brought home a pi-,” she turned and saw you sitting on the other side of the couch, smiling sheepishly as you gave a tiny wave, making her finish with, “-zza.”

You gulped, biting your lip in nervousness, “Hi, Mrs. Parker. I’m - I’m Y/N.”

You waited for her say something, anything, just about losing hope when she stayed silent for the next while before she grinned broadly at the both of you, “It’s just May, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

You only grinned back at the kind woman, happy that she didn’t think you were one of the girls Peter only fooled around with; presuming she knew about what Peter did before with other girls.

It wasn’t until after dinner with his aunt that Peter lead you to his room to be alone.

He let you in first, shutting the door behind him; after May had specifically told him not to do so. You looked around the fairly large room. Lamps and various lights were scattered everywhere, a bunk bed accommodated the left corner of the room, and desk sat beside the door with an arrangement of school supplies and textbooks.

“May really liked you,” Peter flopped down onto his bed, resting his hands behind his head as he sat semi upright, “Seriously, she wasn’t just being nice.”

During dinner, you and his aunt May had ceased to stop talking. The two of you bonded after the initial, kind of, awkward meeting. The woman loved you; yearning to know every detail about the “very beautiful girl Peter had decided to bring home,”.

You sat by Peter’s feet on his bed, “Well, I’m glad. She’s,” you smiled and laughed lightly, “quite a character.”

The young aunt didn’t cease to remind you that you were the first girl Peter’s brought home to meet her, and that she was secretly planning a wedding at the back of her mind after she’d seen you and how you treated her nephew, practically son.

“I mean, I guess that’s why you guys get along. You’ve got that in common,” Peter smirked as he looked at your challenging yet playful expression at his words, “I thought all you did was stutter and blush up until our little rendezvous at the restaurant.”

“Well, you did break the ice with the whole virgin question, so really, there was nothing to lose,” you smirked back at him, subconsciously leaning closer to him as he did too, “and I thought you took Spanish classes, Señor.”

Peter shrugged, face getting even closer to yours as his hands moved away from the back of his head to his sides, “Guess I’m a man of many tongues.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Your comment was supposed to come off as sarcastic, however ended up sounding somewhat dirty to the likes of Peter, who’d heard it all by that point.

Peter’s eyebrows raised, his eyes flashing down and back up your body, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip, “I could show you.”

At the words your body numbed, suddenly feeling hesitant and unsure of what to do next. Fluidly, Peter moved forward and grabbed your higher waist close to your breasts, pulling your body into his lap as if you weighed absolutely nothing. Your legs rested on one side of him, dangling over the edge of the bed as he sat near it. Your body stayed stiff as he brought up his, significantly, larger hand to brush away a loose strand of hair from your face.

Your breathing had turned into shaky breaths as his nose gently nudged yours. You felt his breath on your lips as you eventually made shy eye contact with him, hesitation and nervousness evident in your features. He spoke softly, “Relax.”

He brought his lips forward to land on yours softly, enticing a nervous squeak from you. His lips barely melded into yours as the kiss stayed feather soft, sending off light noises throughout the room. When your lips parted, Peter found himself murmuring words that made him recoil in the inside for a reason he couldn’t fathom then, “Trust me.”

Your lips reconnected with his after you gave him a curt nod, still unsure of what was to happen next. This time around, your lips melded with his roughly, your kissing lower than amateur compared to him. Without breaking the kiss, one of his hands moved to grab onto your leg, moving it over to his other side so you could straddle him. While the hand stayed gripping your thigh, the other moved to cup the back of your neck, pulling you even closer into the intimate make out.

You, on the other hand, were very unsure of where to place your hands. They roamed his chest for a while before you settled on awkwardly grabbing onto his shoulders. You stifled a whimper against his lips when you felt him tighten his hold on you, the sound only encouraging him further. Both hands moved to your lower back, slowly sliding down until they reached the hem of your leggings. His thumbs hooked over them, folding them over once before your arms moved behind you to still his hands as you pulled away from the kiss.

“Peter,” you said quickly, gulping before you continued, “I don’t want… to do anything, right now. I’m just… I’m not ready, at least not yet. I mean, we’ve only been together for a month.”

Peter, who had come so close to closing the bet he had only one more month for with his friends, had attempted to cover the disappointment he felt when he realized he had to wait longer, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

You looked at him with despair and guilt, “I’m sorry.”

“Really, no, it’s fine,” he shook his head before chuckling humorlessly, “It would be great if you got off me, though. I’m not really in the best… condition, right now.”

Your eyes widened once you felt what he was trying to notify you of. You jumped off, biting your lip as you walked backwards to give him space. You watched as he grabbed it pillow to set over his lap, staring awkwardly at whatever was in the corner ahead before saying, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You flashed a nervous smile as you blushed like a mad men, “Yep, you too.”

Quickly, you ducked your head and grabbed your back from beside the desk, rushing out of his door to leave him with a very awkward situation to take care of.

“Peter,”

“Hmm,”

“Peterrr,”

“Hmm,”

“Pst, Peter!”

“What! What do you want? Jeez,”

“Your attention,” you said smartly to the sleeping boy on the Parker couch, “I wanted to tell you something.”

Peter wiped his eyes, looking over at the digital clock to see it was 12:54 a.m., looking over at the TV after to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire playing through the dragon battle scene.

“You fell asleep when they met Cedric for the first time,” Peter turned to look at you as you smiled cheekily, “You have a really cute snore. It’s like a kitten, really.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Haha,” he shook his head, “Now, what’s so important that you had to wake me up from my kitten snores?”

Your face suddenly turned nervous, biting your bottom lip before you spoke up, “Peter, I trust you.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows as he smiled confused, grabbing your hand to put into his, “Yeah, and I trust you too.”

“No,” you shook your head, desperate to find a way to tell him what you meant without having to explicitly say it, “I trust you. I know it’s been only, like, ten days since I said I wasn’t ready, and only almost two months since we’ve been together, but I trust you... a lot. I really want to be with you.”

Peter, who’d been taken by surprise, struggled to find his voice until he cleared his throat and spoke hoarsely, “What… why do you trust me so much if it’s only been two months? I mean, it was only ten days ago, what made you change your mind?”

You paused, then you looked into Peter’s eyes as you smiled, “You used to go after so many girls just for hookups, for something so meaningless,” you moved closer to him, grabbing his hands in yours, you chuckled, “But you gave relationships a shot; and you did that with me. You made your first relationship with me, and it’s not so bad either. You’ve really made me happier and less scared to be with someone. I trust you, Peter.”

Peter stared at you incredulously, “Damn.”

You looked shyly down at your touching hands before looking back up at him, eyes filled with love despite the nervousness.

For a moment, looking at the innocence that was you, Peter had come close to reconsidering the whole bet.

Come close.

He leaned over to cup your face, stroking your cheek as he smiled, “Thank you.”

‘God, I’m sorry.’

You woke up in a haze, your vision blurry as your eyes fluttered open to meet an unfamiliar green-ish wall. You slept on your stomach as your hands rested underneath head, a few strands of hair had fallen over your face. You attempted to move, but felt a heavy weight over your lower back, your body aching underneath it when you moved. Carefully, you turned your head to see Peter’s face close to yours. His eyes were closed and his mouth was parted as he continued to let out little even breaths as he slept. You smiled to yourself when recollection of the night before had come rushing back.

You continued to stare at Peter’s face with love and appreciation, not waking him up even though his arm was getting significantly heavier to your tired body as time went by. What seemed like forty, but was only ten, minutes that had gone by, Peter’s eyes began to squint open as they were so close to the line of sun that had come through the curtain.

His eyebrows furrowed as he smiled, pulling his arm off of you when he turned over from his side to his back, putting his hand over his eyes to block the oncoming sun, “Hey.”

You moved your body to lay on your side facing him, your hand going underneath the pillow when you said back lightly, “Hey.”

Peter chuckled looked at your huddled up figure, turning to his bedside table as he smiled and shook his head at you, “Last night was…,”

“Great.”

Peter’s hand grabbed his phone before his attention turned back to your face. Your smile was relaxed and made him realize just how uneasy he really was.

Peter let out a small sigh when he saw your eyes close once again, still awake, he knew that, but calm. His thumbs slip across his phone, unlocking it, only for you to hear him quickly type a text and send it.

“[Nickname],” Peter spoke softly to you, “I’m going to the washroom, you need anything while I’m up?”

You opened your eyes when you felt his weight shift off the bed. You watched as he pulled sweatpants on over his boxers, saying with a soft smile, “I’m fine.”

Peter smiled back at you before disappearing out the bedroom door.

You sighed to yourself, a grin making its way to your face as you stared at the ceiling. However, your thoughts of gratitude for the amazing boy were soon interrupted by the chiming of his phone. One ring turned into a billion as his phone began to blow up with texts.

Your expression soon turned into one of annoyance at Peter’s friends who, apparently, have thumbs as fast as that one guy in the news, Pietro Maximoff.

You reluctantly rolled out of bed, grabbing Peter’s shirt from the floor and putting it on quickly, not even bothering to untuck any hair in your vigorous attempt to get his friends to shut up.

You took a step to his bedside table, ‘How the Hell did he reach this shit from the bed? Fucking monkey ass arms… nice arms. Yeah. Nice arms.’

Grabbing the phone, you went to turn off the ringer, but you were stopped when your eyes had flashed over what looked to be your name. You had never been one to snoop, never. But the fact that his friends, you were guessing they were either Calvin and Mark, or of the same nature, were talking about you, didn’t seem like it would be good talk.

Curiosity got the best of you.

You bit your lip hard as you swiped open his phone, cursing as a password popped up. It was a word. ‘Think, think, think!’

You tried all sorts of different passwords before you realized it could lock you out at any time, making your choices much more limited. Giving up, you rolled your eyes and scoffed at yourself, ‘Oh, let’s try my name… as if.’

However, to your bafflement, when you typed in your name, the phone had unlocked itself, leaving you with an open group chat with five other guys; including Mark and Calvin, as you suspected.

You scrolled all the way up to where Peter had first texted,

Peter : Five weeks before grad. I think your old man owes me 200 Mark

Your eyebrows knitted at the text, ‘What’s five weeks before graduation? Why does Mark owe Pete $200?’

You continued to read on,

Calvin : No way you actually did it?

Flash : Damn good job u little asshole

Josh : i thought he would pussy out.

Wyatt : Did look like he was gettin soft

Your eyes zoomed over the texts, fearing Peter walking in on you on his phone without his knowledge.

‘Couples shouldn’t have to hide anything though.’

Even though you had been rushing to not incriminate yourself, your whole body froze when you read the last text,

Mark : goddamn parker, how you gonna tell that oblivious piece of shit y/n about our little bet? i can see her face now… good job pete. i underestimated you

“Hey, Y/N, you want breakfast now? I don’t know about you but I’m getting pretty hung-,” Peter’s figure appeared through the doorframe, his face twisting in a mix of anger and urgency, “What are you doing on my phone, Y/N?”

You stayed in place, eyes still reading over the last text Mark had sent before his other friends had continued boasting him on the chat. Your mind had managed to connect all the dots. It, however, left you fearing the truth and hoping it was all just one big misunderstanding.

“Y/N,” his voice became angry as he stayed in place, “What are you doing on my phon-,”

“What bet did you need to tell me about?” Your head shot up to look at his face, eyes filled with the desperate need of both the truth and to be lied to for your own sake, “Why can they imagine my face now? Why did they underestimate you; what did you do that was such a good job done?”

Your eyes filled with tears as you watched his face go from angered to guilt and regret.

Tears began to slowly spill from your eyes as your lips quivered and your voice shook, you said in a whisper, “Tell me it’s not true, Peter. Please, tell me it’s not true.”

You began shaking your head in denial as Peter edged closer to you, looking you in the eye, “Y/N… just - just listen. I just need you to listen.”

You shook your head more violently this time, “No.”

Peter came closer when he saw your body shaking as you cried and began to hyperventilate some, “Just calm down, please, [Nickname]. I don’t want you to hurt yoursel-,”

“Why, so you could be the one to just hurt me some more?” You looked at Peter in betrayal, tears still streaming down your face, “Isn’t that what you want? You… you.. asshole!”

Peter’s face morphed into one of shock at the sudden name. He shook it off quickly though, going to wrap his arms around you to get you to calm down, only to feel himself being pushed away roughly by your hands,

“Don’t you dare touch me.”

Your crying hadn’t ceased until you began to furiously wipe away your tears with your hands, trying to stop crying, but getting nowhere.

Peter’s voice cracked when he said weakly, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

You gave a humourless laugh before realizing you had only his shirt on. The pressure of the situation became more pressing as stood in front of him almost bare, really remembering that you had given your virginity to a man you loved, but, as it turns, didn’t love you back.

Your hand rose to your face again, resting on your forehead. You hiccuped, “Where are my clothes?”

“Y/N, please, listen to m-,”

“Where are my clothes, Peter,” It wasn’t a question rather than a plead, “Just… where are my clothes.”

He simply found himself pointing at the dresser next to you in hopelessness, mumbling, “Top drawer.”

You moved quickly to the dresser and yanked it open, revealing your clothes. You quickly put them on over the underwear you already had on underneath his shirt, not even caring that he would see you naked when you changed your shirt, ‘It doesn’t even matter anymore.’

You pocketed your phone, which had been next to his on the table, and didn’t bother looking at him when you walked past his figure and into the living room.

Peter cursed frustratingly to himself, running out of the room to catch up with you. His hand caught your wrist and pulled up around to face him, “God,” his voice raised at you, not knowing how to handle the situation in any other way than to get somewhat aggressive as he would with his friends, “Just listen to me, Y/N! Stop doin-,”

“No, you listen,” you tore your wrist out of his hold, speaking slowly when you said you next words, “You are a coward, Peter Parker,” your voice became a whisper, “A. Coward.”

You turned away suddenly and moved across the rest of the living room to the front door, bending down to put on your shoes. Peter, who had followed you, stood and looked down at you in despair.

“Y/N,” his voice softened as he looked down at your hunched form attempting to tie your shoelaces, “I really do love you. It was a bet at first but… I fell in love with you.”

“And I couldn’t give a shit, Peter.”

His face morphed into one of shock at your cold tone and words. He watched as your face stayed stone hard with streaks of dried up tears and ones that threatened to spill over your face once more.

“What?”

You stood up sneering at him, “I don’t care whether you fell in love with me or you didn’t, Parker,” you walked closer to him and gave a bitter laugh, “You know, I really hope it was worth it. I hope that the others see you as this God ‘cause it would’ve been all for nothing, but just know, Peter Benjamin Parker, that to me you are nothing - nothing - but a self absorbed,” your index finger poked his chest with each name you called him next, “attention seeking, manipulative fucking lying fucking pussy. You will never - ever - be anything more than that.”

You turned away from his wide eyed face filled with tears, brimming on the edge of escaping with a trembling body, and grabbing into the door handle and turning it, only to scoff and say pitily over your shoulder, “You know, I knew from the beginning that it had been some sort of play when you asked me out. You even told me you wanted to prove something to those guys; but you still went after whatever prize you could get from my - out of everything - virginity,” you let out a choked laugh filled with nothing but tears, “You are an ass for that, Parker, but I’m a damned fool for thinking that I could change you.”

You left without another word.

Peter stared after at the door after it had slammed closed. Tears managed to make their way down his cheeks part way through your speech and his breath was now laboured.

“God,” he sobbed, “God, fuck!”

His hand punched the wall beside him as his tears ran faster and his crying grew louder.

“I’m sorry,” his back hit the walls and he began to slide down with his hand over his face wet with tears, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m so, so sorry.”

It was the next day when you walked into to school that only made matters worse. As predicted, Peter’s friends had run around gloating about how ‘their boy’ was practically a God at the school, being able to get anyone he pleases.

You spent that day earning sniggers from the populars and pitiful stares from the opposite. The numerous girls that Peter had taken, himself, took any opportunity to send murderous glares your way. So much talk had spread that even the likes of Michelle Jones, one of the most unimpressed and tough girls at Midtown who could never fall for the antics of Peter the God, had softened her usual hard stare when looking at you. What had shocked you even more had been when she approached you in the girls washroom during third period, not bearing supportive words,

“You’re an idiot.”

You eyebrows furrowed as you stared at her leaning against one of the out of order stalls through the mirror in front of you. Closing the tap, you turned and responded, making sure of what she had just seriously said, “Sorry?”

She nodded, shrugging her arms and allowing her crossed arms fall to her sides, “You’re an idiot.”

You opened your mouth to respond before you closed it again without a word, ‘You know what? I don’t need this right now.’ You shook your head and attempted to move past Michelle in haste, only to have her grab your arm and pull you back with strength you had no idea her body possessed,

“Listen.”

She didn’t continued after that, making you nudge your head towards her with your eyebrows raised high.

Her eyes turned steely, “I said listen. Are you listening? Yes or no?”

“Yes,” your eyes widened at her passive aggressiveness before uttering under your breath, “Jeez.”

“I heard that. Anyway,” she paused, “You’re an idiot-,”

“Yes, you’ve said that countless times!” You rolled your eyes and tried to yank your arm out of her grasp, only to have her hold on tighter.

“Listen. To me,” her face came only a few inches apart from your with each word, pulling you closer to her, “Don’t. Speak.”

You huffed as she started again, “I know I’ve said it countless times, but you are an idiot. And before you roll your eyes and try to escape my killer grip, which you won’t, by the way, I’m going to tell you something,” Michelle brought you closer once more, staring at you intensely, “That Parker kid is possibly one of the biggest man whores I have ever laid my eyes on, but let me tell you that I can read everything that comes off all of these emotional, horny, pubescent teenagers in this entire school. But that’s regardless of the fact that Penis Parker hasn’t made a single noise or sex joke all school day, and I would know, I’m in every single one of his classes. Now, I don’t believe in love, it doesn’t make sense, and I don’t like things that don’t make sense, so obviously you did something that’s really bothering him or else he wouldn’t be acting this way.”

Michelle suddenly pushed you away and let go of your arm. She began walked backwards towards the exit of the washroom, continuing to speak as she did so, “I know you. I know you don’t get bullied or pushed around, no matter how small or nerdy you are, because you’re good with your words. Parker didn’t walk into school all high and mighty, but more like a pussy,” you flinched at the word, making Michelle smirk as she immediately knew what that meant, “I’m all for defending yourself; I’m a black woman in a small minded world; but there’s a point. This guy, he’s an ass, but he’s not exactly all that slick, you could’ve figured it out ‘cause of how smart you are.”

She pushed open the door to leave, but spoke for the last time before leaving, “You’re an idiot because you let him play you even though, I know you know, that he slipped up at some point and you had the feeling something was wrong, huh? You broke him down without giving him the warning he unintentionally gave you; you knew he cared about you after some point too, or else, trust me, he would’ve given up a month back. You hurt him for the sake of your own rep, or because of how Goddamn lonely you are and your hate for it. You found someone and you couldn’t let them go, and now that they want to leave, and you knew, so you gotta hurt them the only way you know how. I’m not a mind reader, but I really don’t think I’m wrong; I’m never wrong.”

You’re whole body had frozen at her words, tears gathering slightly in your eyes when you realized the truth to them. You gave a teary smile, clicking your tongue before you said, “Thanks.”

Michelle shook her head, both hands pushing the door open, “Don’t think I care about you. I’ve just been waiting to be all philosophical for a while now.”

You gave a choked laugh through the few tears that had managed to slip, “Okay, Michelle.”

She slipped through the door, shouting, “And go back to class without looking like a raccoon.”

At that, you spun around to face the mirror, finding clumps of black beginning to form underneath your eyes as a result of crying with mascara on.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” You began attempting to clean your eyes, ending up with no mascara at all after realizing the only way to actually clean it was to drench your whole eye.

You huffed as you looked at yourself for the final time in the washroom mirror before you turned on your heel when you finalized that you looked presentable enough.

As you walked out of the washroom and through the hallways, carrying the unnecessarily huge pass the school had students use when they left class for a moment, Michelle’s words had found their way back to you, “You broke him down without giving him the warning he unintentionally gave you; you knew he cared about you after some point too. You hurt him for the sake of your own rep.”

Those words didn’t cease to follow you back to class, nor did you forget them when you went back home to wallow, and even the next day at school.

That day at school, however, was just as different as the day before.

You had been walking, or more so jogging due to being late to class, through the halls when you hit a somebody, only for the two of you to fall to the ground. You looked up to apologize, only to be faced with a round faced boy with big dark eyes uttering apologies under his breath as he scattered around attempting to collect his stuff. The boy looked to be in hurry, his eyes widening when your hand had suddenly wrapped around his wrist. You gave him a soft look before saying sweetly, “Hey, calm down. Is everything okay?”

“No,” he shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he lightly shoved your hand away from him and went back to trying to pick up all his loose papers, “No, they’re gonna start again. I can’t - they - no-,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, opening your mouth to question him, only to be cut off by voices coming from the direction he’s bumped into her from,

“Oh, Neddy-Boy,” you recognized the voice as Mark, Peter’s friend who had made the bet in the first place, and you were right seeing as he showed up around the hall with his goons, face lighting up maniacally when he saw the two of you together, “Oh, this is so perfect. So, very perfect.”

Ned looked up at you, both of you still kneeling on the ground, eyes wide when he whispered, “You should go. This guys aren’t going to let off.”

You looked at him, grimacing, “Yeah, I know.”

Determined, you stood to face the group still walking towards you both. Your nostrils flared as you huffed, saying through your teeth, “Go away, Mark.”

“Go away?” Mark sneered, stopping only centimetres in front of you and leaning closer to your face as he spoke lowly, “Baby, you wouldn’t have had a bone to pick with us if you had just said that to Parker two months ago, now would you?”

Your mouth opened then closed, not trusting your voice as all anger towards Peter and them had come rushing back, Michelle’s words meaning nothing then.

Finally, you found your voice, “Shut up.”

“Awe,” your eyes only moved to watch as Calvin moved around you and Mark towards Ned’s cowering form, Mark still staring directly at you, “That’s cute.”

You heard the rest let out a chuckle. Calvin’s foot had begun kicking around some of Ned’s scattered papers, kicking him once in the process when he said, “Come on, Neddy, get up fatass. Come on!”

At that, you turned away from Mark and went to pull at Calvin’s arm to pull him away from hurting Ned anymore, “Get away from him.”

“Oh,” Mark pulled you away from them, yanking you roughly in the process, “You don’t want to do that, babe.”

“Yeah,” Wyatt spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke roughly, “You think that just because Parker made you mad, that you can pick something with us?”

Josh spoke up, looking you up and down before he said lowly, “You would really, really regret that, Y/N.”

You glared as you tugged against Mark’s grip, only to have him hold on tighter. You shook your head, “Regret, my ass.”

Mark’s nostrils flared as he got angrier, bringing you closer when he literally spat, “You better watch your mou-,”

The boy had been cut off by your fist jamming hard into his unsuspecting face. His hand had moved to clutch into his nose, freeing you. You turned to see Calvin shell shocked as the others went to Mark’s aid, and Ned’s eyes wide in adoration. You moved quickly to Ned, dragging him up by the arm, and saying urgently, “Come on, let’s go!”

You only made it down the hall when you heard Mark’s voice shouting, “Get them, you Goddamn fucking idiots! Go!”

His shouting had attracted attention; student had Come piling out of their classrooms to see what had been going on. Laughing had soon begun to erupt when they’d seen to two of you running away from a bloody nosed Mark, all knowing what could’ve most likely happened.

Passing through the last hall, you saw, the one and only, Peter Parker. His face looked confused to see the two of you, uttering a confused, “Ned?” Teachers hadn't been able to weave through the students on time to get the two of you, but had tamed the four boys and sent them to the office. Their record at the school and outside already hinting them on to what could’ve possibly occurred.

Once the two of you had made it out of school grounds, you stopped to catch your breath, hunching over in the process, “Damn, I need to exercise more… just kidding, I don’t run.”

Ned gave a breathless laugh at the end comment, hunching over just the same. He spoke in between laboured breaths, “Why did you do that back there?”

“They’re assholes,” you looked around you, recognizing the open field just outside your school filled with trees, collapsing on the ground and leaning back against one, the sun burning, but the wind a cool breeze, “They always do that to you?”

“Not all the time,” Ned mimicked your actions and sat next to you, looking up at the blue sky, “They’re usually with Peter, and I guess he stops them or something. I don’t know…”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Peter?”

“Yeah,” Ned smiled and huffed a laugh, “We used to be really close; best friends.”

“Well,” you turned your head and looked at the smart boy, “What happened?”

“Bullies happened,” Ned sighed then turned his head to look at you as well, “He wanted to be cool, and I supported him and stuff, but I didn’t know that would mean getting rid of me.”

You shook your head and let out a bitter laugh, turning back to look at the sky, “So he was an asshole from day one.”

“He’s not an ass,” Ned remorsefully, “He’s just hurt.”

You shook your head and turned back to him, “It still doesn’t give him the right to just dump you like that. You were there for him.”

You watched as Ned looked down at his interlaced hands, feeling sympathy for the shy boy. His best friend had left him because of his social status, and all he gets in return is worse bullying.

After few moments of silence, Ned spoke up again through the chirping of birds and faint sound of cars on the road a bit farther away from them, “Peter… It doesn’t matter that he dumped me for them; he had it worse and he got sick of it. It sucked. But he’s still a good guy, I know it.”

“No, Ned, you don’t,” Ned’s face morphed to one of sudden shock at your blunt words, “He’s nothing but an asshole. He’s changed into such a bad guy, Ned, and he’s not going to change back to the best friend he was to you any time soon.”

You watched as Ned looked back down at his hands, muttering, “You don’t know that.”

You shook your head, attempting to get through the boy’s head when you said with a strained voice, “Ned, the things he’s done to me… the way he tricked me. I just… I thought he was more than the popular, cool guy everyone sees him to be.”

Ned looked up at you, eyes slightly filled with tears when he said semi-desperately, “Yeah, and was a he a stupid science nerd? Does he still have those shirts with the science puns, and the glasses he stopped wearing for contacts?”

You stared at him in disbelief, only for him to continue, “Does he still love his aunt May as much as before? Does he still have that Lego Death Star in his room?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Lego Death Star?”

“Yeah, that’s mine, I really just want it back. But that’s besides the point,” Ned shook his head, “Y/N, if you saw any of that in the past two months, my best friend is still in there somewhere; my best friend.”

You voice wavered, “Ned, all he wanted was my virginity for a bet. He said he loved me-,”

“And if he’s still my best friend, he meant it; the old Peter means it when he says that kind of stuff,” Ned’s voice has been hopeful as he stood up from his seated spot and looked down at you, “He’s still there.”

You mimicked his actions and stood up to face him properly, shrugging your arms in a sense of giving up, “Then why did he still want the money, and the reputation? If he really cared and loved me like he said he did. I trusted him that early into our relationship because of who he used to be and the person I knew then, but it was all a lie, Ned. He’s not the old Peter-,”

“People screw up, Y/N,” Ned spoke softly, “Haven’t you ever screwed up?”

The only thoughts that had come to mind were still few of the many words that had been spoke by the eve so observant Michelle, “You’re an idiot because you let him play you even though, I know you know, that he slipped up at some point and you had the feeling something was wrong, huh? You broke him down without giving him the warning he unintentionally gave you; you knew he cared about you after some point too, or else, trust me, he would’ve given up a month back.”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip, “I have.”

“Why do you even want to talk to me,” Peter shook his head, “After everything I did to you.”

Four days after your encounter with Peter’s former best friend, you found yourself knocking on his apartment door at 8:26 p.m. on Saturday night. The talks with both Ned and Michelle had knocked more sense into you, more than you thought they would, a few days after.

“Uh,” Your form seemed, and felt, small surrounded by the door frame, “I don’t really want to, there’s just… I’ve just been thinking about what happened, and… there’s just this whole thing with Michelle and Ned, and now I don’t know how to feel about what happened between us. I just need to know what to feel by the end of this, ‘cause I’m so confused, Peter.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, his hand clutching on tighter to his door knob in nervousness, “What… What are you confused about?”

“I just,” you paused, “I said some nasty things the other day that I shouldn’t have said. Michelle kinda made me realize what was wrong with me, and I guess I’m sorry for the things I said.”

Peter shook his head, “You shouldn’t be the one that’s sorr-,”

“It doesn’t matter, that was already hard enough for me to say as it is, don’t repeat it,” you cut him off before sighing in defeat, “I just wanna know why you did it, Peter.”

Peter looked down and shook his head, giving you a strained smile as he huffed a laugh, much like the way Ned had done on Tuesday, “I just wanted to prove something stupid to my friends.”

You nodded, muttering, “Okay,” before beginning to turn away from the boy and leave, forgetting Ned’s words about the old Peter still being in there and just being thankful you had apologized to avoid guilt. You had a feeling Michelle would forever haunt you if you hadn’t said anything regarding that.

You couldn’t leave, however, because you felt a hand wrap around your arm and yank you back lightly. A pale looking Peter looked you deep in the eyes when he said tearfully, “I don’t want to lose you. I did really fall in love with you; I wouldn’t be saying it if I didn’t mean it, trust me, I hate all that sappy stuff… I’m glad I took the bet.”

You shook your head in disbelief at the boy, old emotions resurfacing as you began to lose your sense of rationality once more, tearing as you said, “Then why did you still want the money? Why did you bring up sleeping with me before your grad? Why was the first thing you did after our first time together was texting your friends that you slept with the stupid, fifteen year old girl? Why did you do all that if you love me?”

“I don’t…,” Peter licked his lips in uneasiness as a tear slipped, “Reputation? I just… It’s the way things are!”

“The way things are?” You shook your head and moved closer to the older boy, “No, Peter, it’s not the way things are. Normal people, who do things the normal way, the way things are, don’t dump their best friends, or try to hurt a girl so bad as to make them fall in love and leave after they’ve taken what they wanted. That is not the way things are.”

“I don’t want to go back to the way things were!” Peter shouted at you suddenly, tears beginning to slowly flow, his hands and arms moving all over the place to express his anger and frustration with each word, “I don’t want to get shoved into lockers again! I don’t want to be poked and prodded at, and I don’t want to be scared again!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to hurt people,” tears of your own had begun to fall, “Peter, you can dress the way you do outside; in your leather jackets and jeans. You can gel your hair, and you can hang out with whoever you want. Just please; don’t hurt people. Don’t hurt me, and please don’t hurt Ned anymore.”

You took a shaky breath before whispering, “And I really am sorry that I hurt you. I just hadn’t been lonely for once in a long time.”

Peter’s doe eyes looked down at you in sadness and adoration, “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, “I know, Pete, I know.”

You both only stared at each other for a few moments before you heard a voice come from the hall,

“Y/N,” May smiled at you once she reached the door, “Hey, sweetheart, how’re you?”

You, who had managed to wipe away your tears before May could see as did Peter, gave her a smile back when replying, “I’m great, May.”

“That’s good,” May’s eyes shifted between the two of you suspiciously before speaking up, “You know, I just wanted to go make some dinner, but now I think I’m more into what’s going on here. Anything I should know?”

“Nope,” you laughed lightly before moving forward and giving Peter a knowing smile as your arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders to pull him into a hug as you still faced May, his arms wrapping around you as well, “I was just telling Peter about how he has to give that Lego Death Star back to Ned.”

You both watched as May’s eyes went wide at the name, “Ned? As in Ned Leeds?”

“Yeah.” Peter replied softly as he buried his face into your neck shamelessly, his soft brown curls tickling you slightly in the process.

“But I thought that…,” May paused then smiled at you disbelievingly, shaking her head in happiness, “You know what? Never mind.”

The young aunt snaked past the two of you and into the apartment, still smiling to herself the whole time as she watched your hugging forms.

“I’m not joking, though,” you muttered into Peter’s neck, “Ned really wants that thing back.”

[dong-hyucks]

7, 19, 92, enemies to lovers AU for nct jaehyun!! :-) congrats on 1000 once again hehe 💓 -🌻✨

Jung Jaehyun ; “I dreamt about you last night.” , “Can I hold your hand?” , “I want you to be happy.” + Enemies↣ Lovers!AU

Prompts here.Masterlists

wow what a bias wrecker

okay so some backstory

you and jeffrey over here have known each other since he got back from america

everyone fawned over him when he got back

you were probably like,, the only one at school who got tired of his little “i lived in america, that’s why i’m here, man!!” joke

you: we get it can you stop now

when he found out you were annoyed by him in general he was a bit confused

he’d never spoken to you before so he thought your disliking of him was a bit dumb

you found out because his friends have loud mouths

which only fueled your hatred oops

because you thought he was calling you dumb behind your back

anyway after you guys graduated

you didn’t see each other much

that is

until you became a makeup artist for sm

the gods were against you because you were assigned to nct

you couldn’t do anything about it tho because it was a good job and you’d rather not get fired

besides, you could tolerate the other boys (for the most part)

this little hatred is a bit one sided

he just likes to mess with you but he doesn’t hate you

like he’d take a lipbalm thing from your bag without you noticing

you’d know it was him but he would play innocent

he would put it back once you turned away tho

“see!! it’s right there”

you rolling your eyes out of your head

whenever it was his turn to get his makeup done or his hair fixed

you had to refrain yourself from making him look like a clown

even being so close to his face infuriated you smh

the boys didn’t really see why you ‘disliked’ each other

like they’d interrogate jaehyun after witnessing him steal your makeup supplies a few times (always giving it back ofc)

he’d never have a legit answer??

“it’s funny to see [Y/N] get angry they’re like a cat lol”

“jae that’s not–”

and then if they’d ask you about it

which was a mistake

the entire time you did the person’s makeup (probably taeyong oml) you’d literally be listing the reasons why jaehyun irritates you

ty: never again

taeyong would tell jaehyun about what you said and he’d be like ???

“they aCTUALLY DISLIKE ME??”

like he thought you had gotten over your resentment from school and you were just playing along

slow child, he is

so after that he’d kind of just lay low

he wouldn’t steal anything anymore or make any teasing comments

which you were half grateful for but at the same time it was weird not glaring daggers at him practically every day

now that he wasn’t playing around with you, you kind of realized how much of an angel he was

bUt you were too prideful to step down 

so you kept your distance

which the boys noticed like right away

they probably made a gc about you guys tbh

anyway now that you weren’t glaring at him 24/7 or making any snarky remarks

jaehyun was able to look at you without feeling like you weren’t going to bite his head off

he started noticing some things

like how you rake your hand through your hair when you’re getting stressed over the makeup

or how you cover your mouth when you laugh (if you don’t do this then read the bold lol)

or how you’re able to laugh comfortably around the boys

and how you bite your lips when you’re concentrating on doing makeup admittedly he got caught staring at your lips by yuta 

and the cute way you furrow your brows together

you’re so different around others than when you’re with him

with him you just stay quiet and don’t say much unless you’re instructing him to move his face in whatever way

but with the boys and with the other staff members

you joke around a lot

and smile easily

he found himself wanting to see you do that in front of him

after like a month of admiring you from afar it kind of just hit him like

“i??? like??? [Y/N]???”

he wouldn’t be that surprised with himself considering the fact he had started to search for you in a room whenever he entered

and the fact that seeing you made him feel all tingly

he’d be kind of nonchalant about it but at the same time he’s torn over whether or not he should confess

he still believes you hate him honestly

he texted johnny about it and ranted for like an hour talking about the pros and cons of confessing

he also fawned over you a bit

however

he made a grave mistake

he accidentally texted yuta and not johnny

rip jung “jeffrey” jaehyun

all of the members, including the ones who hadn’t debuted yet + jaemin, knew of his crush within the hour

half of them would just dismiss it and go one with their lives

the other half were devious and made a plan

a majority of that other half were the dreamies tbh

they got updates on your interactions with jaehyun from donghyuck

occasionally mark

so basically, the dreamies except for the hyung line + yuta came together to make a plan (with doyoung subtly giving ideas smh what a snake)

in hindsight they realized the plan was dumb but hEy it worked

so basically

the boys hid your really expensive makeup palette (i know nothing about makeup sorry)

right before the boys (including the dreamies) had to go on a broadcast

smart idea guys, very smart

so basically you got really worried

because you and the other makeup artists shared that palette because it was gigantic

when it got to the point where the other artists were getting impatient

you were the youngest out of all of them yet you were trusted with the most expensive thing lol

jaehyun saw you freaking out and went over

he didn’t even think about it like the moment he saw your eyes glaze over he kinda sprinted to you

took you out of the room, away from the crowd of people, and into a spare room

you were still freaking out and now you were just “jaeHYUN LEMME GO I NEED TO GO FIND IT–”

he’d literally just hug you and rub your back

he wouldn’t say anything

you’d calm down a bit but you were still worried

jaehyun noticed and frowned

“can i hold your hand?” 

you’d kind of just pull away and give jaehyun a weird look

so he just took your hand and interlaced his fingers, sending you a gentle smile

your heart would actually be pounding

you were confused

why was he acting like this? you didn’t know

so once you calmed down immediately he’d take you back into the room and help you search for it because it’s easier to find things with a calm mind (is it? idk)

and yet

there it was– in jisung’s arms

you couldn’t even be mad because he looked so sorry about it

so basically you and the other artists were rushing to get the boys makeup done but it’s alright cause they’re going to look great no matter what you do

you went home that night with jaehyun on your mind

like you were conflicted

so you texted jaehyun for answers

your texts were really formal because even tho you had his number you never really texted him before

like proper punctuation, grammar, everything

“Hey… why did you do that? Earlier today, I mean.”

jaehyun was probably on his phone when he got the text

he legit counted to ten before answering your text

“wdym?”

he obviously didn’t care as much for formalities as you did

“You know what I mean.”

you know that feeling you get when you see a speech bubble and it just disappears and then reappears again

yeah that’s how you felt

the speech bubble kept appearing and disappearing for a straight three minutes before he finally sent anything

“i want you to be happy.”

you may or may not have left him on read

‘Read 11:39 PM’

you had jaehyun staying up all night over that wow

that night you didn’t get much sleep

but when you did fall asleep you had a dream

a certain someone was sitting beside you at a table

apparently you were studying, just like you did in school

he merely turned to you and smiled, resting his hand against his cheek and outright staring at you lovingly

then you woke up

you screamed into your pillow when you realized how you felt about that someone

“i like jaehyun oh my god”

you stayed in bed shook for so long you were almost late for work

you saw jaehyun in the elevator and literally spun on your heel to take the stairs

he chased after you like the drama character he is

“wait, [Y/N]!”

when he caught up to you he was panting

which confused you because he literally just ran down a hall??? like you do very complicated and tiring (yet amazing) dances man c’mon

“please don’t avoid me,” he pleaded with a sad look in his eyes

you didn’t answer because you knew you’d die if you looked into his eyes

this made jaehyun feel worse because he thought he upset you again

“can you tell me what i did wrong?”

without even thinking you blurted out, “i dreamt about you last night, okay?”

um no

not okay

realizing what you just said you tried to run away again

he didn’t let you, keeping a firm grasp on your wrist (without hurting you)

“you dreamt about me??” he would ask, astonished

you nodded bashfully; you couldn’t take it back anyway, he’d know you were lying if you said no

“how do you feel about me?”

hoo boy jaehyun straight forward much

you practically glued your lips shut, afraid of revealing another thing you would’ve rather kept secret

he knew you weren’t going to answer so he just continued anyway

“i like you”

your jaw dropped

“i’ve liked you for a while now, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, i just wanted to tell you–”

he stopped when he felt your arms wrap around his torso

you covered your face using his chest/neck (idk depends on your height) because you could feel your face getting hotter

you couldn’t see but he was blushing too

“i like you too, idiot.”

[artiya-il-muriel-chamuel-blog]

I’m over it

😭 I got left on read, naturally.

Why do my emotions change so fasttt.

I sorta feel bad for exposing him but at the same time like no, you hypocritical ass.

She probably went back with him, they’re still following each other and he liked her recent pic. I’m mad i even know this 😭 I literally take this FBI shit to the extreme. Whatever. I’m not reaching out anymore. He’s probably really angry at me for exposing him, naturally. So if he ever decides to reach out, cool, be my friend. But if not, suck a toe 😭 stay mad.

It’s been officially 4 months since I’ve last had sex. I don’t even want to count toe man 🙄 he was dead tripping. So if i don’t count him TECHNICALLY it’s been 7 months. But if we’re Being practical and realistic we have to count him 😪🙄 so it’s only been 4 months.

Aye revirgination 🙏🏽.

Being at this monastery has been nice. They tell me to be in the present moment which is really hard for me bc I’m always stuck in the past or making scenarios of the future that’ll never come true.

But it’s nice to be on a personal retreat, this part of New York is so nice, so much nature.

When meditating i was having MAJOR flashbacks. Of like David and being in his dads apartment, his dads shower area was so big for no reason 😂. I was having like a flash forward of the good times but then i CALMLY was like *concentrates on breath* and just like that it was gone. I feel like if i let my self swirl in memories i just fall down a deep whole of reliving something from the past, but i just saw how quick i could bring my mind to focus on something more important. The here and now.

I’m going to take this with me moving forward.

My dynamic with dan is now completely changed. Just like Jon and Anthony , I’m completely off the table. My friendship is here but even then it’ll be limited bc if you have ulterior motives, we shouldn’t be talking. That’s one thing i wish i didn’t do when i was with david, i should’ve dropped Jon like a fly. Especially bc i knew he still was resentful and he feelings, but nooooo i had to be all “but friendship blah blah”

Idiot.

🤷🏽‍♀️reap what you sew.

Now you know.

But yeah I’m done with being dans entertainment or using him as my entertainment when I’m alone and just want someone to talk to.

I’ve come so far in regards to handling my solitude. I haven’t been a relationship in almost 2 years. Yeah I’ve fucked around and had my fun but what better time to do it than now, but emotionally? No one. Maybe that’s why i kept going back to dan even if it was just sex, he was the last person i was emotionally connected too and i didn’t want to let that go. I wanted ,

I’m not sure what i wanted. Sometimes i wished he would be like let’s date again but then i would truly think about it and realize i could never date him again. His eyes wonder so much, and i know that, which is why i was happier with him as a fuck buddy , but even then I’m too territorial for that shit, and he knew that which is why he stopped seeing me after November, that and he found Maranda and was like i wanna try something new.

I’m fucked for ratting him out 😂 i don’t even know her like i could’ve given him that solid.

I was just emotional and was like if you won’t fuck me you most def won’t fuck her then, no one gets fucked!

So vindictive smh.

But then after having a nice sleep i realized WTF like chill CHILL

Chilllll

Why don’t i have a chill button

I react with my emotions

My actions are ALWAYS with my emotions which is why i get in shitty situations

But would i really be me if i didn’t ?

Fucking yolo.

I’ve always been that way. I put my pride aside and send the texts i know will never get answered or make the calls. Bc you know what? At least i tried. I won’t go living like shouldacouldawoulda . There are times now though that I’m like, nah. Go to sleep, read a book, just don’t, bc there’s a thin line between possibilities and just being a flat out stalker/creep.

I’m probably the crazy ex.

To everyone.

Idc.

I’m crazy and i don’t pretend to be anything else.

I warn people always.

Like proceed cautiously bc I’m hell & heaven in one and if you can’t handle the hell then idk what to tell you bc it’ll happen whether you like it or not.

That’s probably a bad outlook on life

But i don’t change.

I don’t.

I’m still the same person at my core.

I want someone to love me the way i want to love them.

I would rather your hell over anyone else’s heaven type of love

Many people call that toxic

They can all suck a bulls left nut.

Bc that’s my dream love.

I want that psycho love.

That Bonnie and Clyde love.

So obsessed.

Break the law with me.

Die with me.

Live with me.

That sounds SO bad.

But i don’t have anything to make it sound good, like Kanye said in his album in that first song , super shrug mode bc i really don’t have anything to make it sound better to people who don’t understand. Bc one thing i know for certain is that when i love i LOVE . Which is why i go so crazy. Bc i now have a strong connected and wrapped around my heart and your words have the power to tighten it and suffocate me but also give me life. I GIVE you that power bc i hope i have that power too.

I can’t imagine what my future love will be like. You know . “The one.”

The one i thought was the one found his one. And over the years i tried to mold a new imagine in my head but it just comes up blank. At least it’s not like his face is trapped in that slot. I’ve come to accept that it’s done. It’s over. No mas. Ya.

And so instead of his face popping up when i try to think of the one, i get, blank, just open air.

Bruh,

Whoever he is.

I can’t even imagine you right now. Like future husband , future one, i can’t imagine you. I can’t. Yet, you’re out there, somewhere. And boy i hope you knock my socks off. I’m probably going to write so much poetry about you. Ugh. I can’t wait.

But I can actually.

I can wait.

Bc you’re probably worth waiting for.

So in the meantime I’m just going to live my life and explore explore explore. And one day we’ll cross paths and it’ll be history from there.

I’m still so young.

So much can happen still.

Old friends, new friends.

Things change.

And that’s okay.

It’s almost noble silence time here at blue cliff. I wonder if that means typing too.

But this was a good entry.

A good outlet.

Bah, I’m so grateful to be alive. I hope on my sad nostalgic days i remember to just breathe, and be thankful that I’m still alive, and that i have opportunities for happiness. I just need to be grateful of what i can do and what i do have. If they’re meant to be in my life they’ll be there. If they’re not, be happy that they were in my life the time that they were. Experiences were had. Stories for my future children.

My birthday is near.

I wonder what I’ll wish for this year

I wonder if it’ll come true.