Summary: An anniversary celebration in Italy ends in the best way imaginable.
(You and Jacob had been together for nearly 4 years now. He planned to take you away on holiday for your upcoming anniversary to Italy, a place you've always dreamed of going.)
One evening after your shift at work, Jacob surprised you with an at home cooked dinner with candles and rose petals and a perfect 2000s style romcom playlist. After Jacob pushed your seat in for you, he handed you a bunch of your favorite flowers, pink lilies. In the bouquet was an envelope. Jacob had put the tickets to Italy in the envelope. You were leaving in the next few days.
(Now in Italy)
You wake up to the warmth of his arm around you, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. The first thing you notice isn’t the sunlight spilling through the window or the quiet hum of the ocean beyond the balcony—it’s him.
Jacob, still half-asleep, hair tousled, jawline softened by sleep, looking impossibly calm and real.
“Morning,” he murmurs, voice low and rough in a way that makes your stomach do that weird flip.
You squint at him. “Morning,” you mumble, nestling closer. “You realize you’re ridiculously photogenic even when you’re asleep, right?”
He chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m glad someone appreciates it.”
For a few minutes, neither of you speak. Just the sound of the ocean in the distance, the faint creak of the balcony, and the comfort of each other’s presence. You’d almost forgotten what normal felt like—waking up next to someone who makes you feel like this, like everything else can wait.
The week had been everything you didn’t know you needed. Jacob had whisked you away to a coastal town tucked between cliffs and endless ocean, quiet enough to feel like it belonged only to you two. Days were spent wandering cobblestone streets, barefoot on hidden beaches, and stopping constantly for photos—him sneaking shots of you when you weren’t looking, capturing your laughter, your hair in the wind, your distracted expressions that were somehow perfect.
“You take too many pictures,” you said one afternoon, squinting at the camera as he raised it toward you.
He grinned. “I take just enough.”
At night, the two of you would sit on the balcony, shoulders brushing, sipping wine, listening to the waves. No one else existed. Just him. Just you. Just quiet moments that felt monumental.
And now it was your last night.
Jacob led you along a secluded trail you’d passed earlier, twisting around cliffs and through low shrubs until the ocean spread out below you like a living painting. The wind tugged gently at your hair, carrying the salt and sun and freedom of this place.
No one could see you. No one could hear you. Just the two of you, perched on the edge of the world.
“This is… incredible,” you whispered, eyes taking in the vast blue horizon.
He didn’t answer. Not yet. He just reached for your hand, warm and steady in yours.
You perched on a flat rock together, your shoulder against his chest, feeling the weight and comfort of him.
“I like you like this,” he said quietly, voice low enough that the wind might have carried it away if anyone else had been here.
“Like what?” you asked, tilting your head.
“Happy. Unrushed. Real,” he said simply.
You smiled softly, leaning into him. “You’re doing a very good job of being mysterious and romantic at the same time.”
“I’m serious,” he said, the warmth of his gaze holding yours.
For a few seconds, he was quiet, just looking at you. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out something small. You blinked as he lowered to one knee.
“Jacob—”
“Y/n,” he murmured.
Your breath caught as he opened the small box to reveal a simple, elegant ring—beautiful, thoughtful, undeniably you.
“I brought you here because I wanted it to be just us,” he said. “No one else. No distractions. This place… it’s quiet, but it’s real. And so are you. You’ve been my favorite part of every day, every morning I wake up, every stupid little moment. And I don’t want to imagine life without you in it.”
His voice softened. “So… will you marry me?”
You could feel your heart racing, your chest tightening, your hands trembling. And the answer was the only thing your mind could reach for.
“Yes,” you whispered, voice cracking just a little. “Yes, Jacob.”
His relief was immediate, radiant. He slid the ring onto your finger, stood, and pulled you into his arms. Forehead resting against yours, breath mingling, the world falling away until there was nothing but the two of you.
“No take-backs,” he murmured, a grin tugging at his lips.
“You’re stuck now,” you said, laughing softly against him.
He kissed you slowly, deliberately, letting the salt-tinged breeze and the golden light of the setting sun witness something far more intimate than any words could capture.
Just you. Just him. Just love.
And in that quiet, perfect place, nothing else mattered.
Summary: You're a huge fan of Teen Wolf, and there is a Teen Wolf meet-and-greet in your area. You've been standing in the line to meet Dylan for what feels like forever, when finally, it's your turn.
Your feet ached from standing in the buzzing que of chatty Teen Wolf fans for over an hour. Your heart rate had slightly raised as the number of people ahead of you in the line became less and less. You were next in line.
You had practiced what you were going to say, not wanting to come off as one of those fans. You took a deep breath just as the volunteer loudly spoke.
"Next."
You stepped up onto the stage that Dylan was seated on, clutching your Teen Wolf poster you hoped to get signed.
Dylan looked up at you and blink. He almost did a double take after the blink.
"Hey" he said in that charming voice of his "how're you doing today?"
"I'm good, thanks," you manage to get out, slightly shaking as you hand him the poster.
"God, you really chose the worst photo of me that you possibly could." He said, letting out an embarrassed laugh.
You giggled back, "What, no. That buzz cut was so in."
"Hope that's not the only reason you watched the show?" He chatted back, keeping the energy.
"Oh 100%, why else would I watch it?" You joked.
He looked up at you and did that boyish cute snort laugh of his as he handed the poster back. "Thanks for coming, really."
"Thank you. It was really nice meeting you."
"Likewise." He offered you a soft smile which you returned.
You stepped off the staged, heart pounding, and looked down at your signed poster. Under his signature was a phone number and writing that said, "Hope the buzzcut wasn't the only reason... If not, give me a call."
Your heart jumped. You looked back at the table where he was sitting. Feeling your eyes on him, he looked over and smiled.
Summary:Clark Kent’s the star quarterback with every eye on him—except hers. She’s sharp, sarcastic, and refuses to fall for Smallville’s golden boy. But when their worlds keep colliding, it turns out the only thing harder than resisting him… is keeping her guard up.
Friday night lights burn bright over the Smallville High football field. The crowd’s cheering, pom-poms are flying, and every girl in the bleachers is trying to catch Clark Kent’s eye—except you.
You’re sitting three rows up from the front, legs crossed, notebook open on your lap—not because you’re taking notes on the game, but because you’re mid-essay. Multitasking, obviously.
“He’s looking at you again,” your friend Mia whispers, biting into a hot dog.
You don’t even look up. “He also looks at stray cats and oncoming meteors. Doesn’t mean I’m special.”
Mia nudges you. “Come on, Clark Kent, quarterback, literal hometown hero—half the school would donate a kidney for a smile from him.”
You sigh. “Then I hope the Red Cross is ready, because I’m not joining the donor list.”
On the field, Clark wipes sweat from his brow, helmet off, grin in full swing. He’s laughing with Pete and tosses a football in his hand like it’s weightless—which, knowing him, it probably is. His gaze flickers to the stands, catches yours. For a half-second too long, he smiles.
You lift an unimpressed brow and turn a page in your notebook.
The whistle blows. Game resumes. Smallville wins, obviously. When the crowd explodes into cheers, you stand—not to celebrate, but to leave. Except, as you start walking down the bleachers, he’s there. Right in your path, all six-foot-something of him, slightly sweaty and absolutely insufferable.
“Hey,” he says, breath still a little uneven from the game. “You were at the game.”
“Unfortunately.”
He grins, like your sarcasm’s a love language. “You didn’t cheer much.”
You sling your bag over your shoulder. “Didn’t want to distract the star athlete.”
“Didn’t work,” he teases, stepping closer. “You were still distracting.”
You scoff, but your pulse betrays you with a tiny flutter. “You use that line often, or am I just lucky?”
“Depends,” he says, leaning in just a bit. “You planning to tell me your name this time, or should I keep pretending I don’t already know it?”
You arch an eyebrow. “Why ruin your fun?”
You brush past him, leaving him half-smiling, half-stunned. He watches as you walk away, that smirk tugging at his lips like he’s already decided this is going to be his next challenge.
Summary: After a summer that ended in heartbreak, returning to Cousins Beach means facing Conrad Fisher—the boy who broke your heart and still won’t look at you. But when old feelings finally surface, one night on the shore changes everything.
(Conrad Fisher x Reader)
Cousins Beach hadn’t changed—of course it hadn’t.
The porch still creaked in the same places, the air still smelled like salt and sunscreen, and the same songbirds still woke you up too early.
What had changed was you. And him.
You hadn’t seen Conrad Fisher since last summer.
Since that summer.
Since the one where you said you’d never come back here again.
But promises mean nothing when Susannah calls and says, “We’d love to have you stay again, sweetheart.”
Because who could say no to her? Not you. Never you.
So here you are—back at the Fisher beach house, heart pounding like it knows something your brain refuses to admit.
You spot him before he sees you.
Leaning against the porch railing, messy hair, sunglasses half-slipped down his nose, a bottle of Coke sweating in his hand. He looks older, quieter. But when he turns, when his eyes land on you—
He freezes.
Just for a second.
Then he looks away.
And it’s like last summer all over again.
---
It had been reckless.
You and Conrad weren’t supposed to fall for each other. He was your best friend’s brother, for crying out loud. It was supposed to be late-night swims, teasing banter, nothing serious.
Until one night, it wasn’t.
Until his hand brushed yours, and neither of you pulled away.
You’d spent that entire summer tangled between laughter and confusion, between the safety of friendship and the danger of wanting more.
And when it all fell apart—when words like “this was a mistake” and “we can’t do this” cut through the air—you left before dawn, barefoot and heartbroken.
He didn’t stop you.
He didn’t look back then, either.
---
The next few days were a dance of avoidance.
You and Conrad existed in the same spaces—same house, same beach, same bonfires—but never the same conversation.
He laughed with his friends, teased his sister, even joked with you… but never looked at you.
Until the fourth night.
You were walking along the shore after dinner, the tide brushing your ankles. The sky was painted orange and purple, the perfect kind of end-of-summer cliché Conrad would hate. But tonight, it felt right.
“You’re avoiding me,” you said without thinking.
He froze mid-step. Sand shifted under his bare feet. “I… I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are,” you snapped, frustration burning hotter than the sun just gone down. “You’ve been here for four days, and I swear you’ve looked at everyone but me. Why?”
He swallowed, eyes darting toward the waves, then back to the sand. Finally, he spoke, voice low. “Because I can’t.”
Your heart stuttered. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
He ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight. “I can’t… look at you and pretend nothing happened. That summer… last summer… I—” He stopped.
“Conrad,” you whispered, stepping closer, heart hammering.
“I’ve tried,” he said, finally meeting your eyes, and it was like the floodgates opened. “I’ve tried to act normal, to pretend I didn’t care, but… I do. I’ve always cared. Every stupid joke, every fight, every late-night swim—I’ve always cared about you. And leaving that summer? I regretted it every single day.”
The words hit you like waves. The pain, the longing, the months of wondering, all boiling down to one moment.
“I… I cared too,” you admitted, voice trembling. “I was just scared. Scared of losing you, scared of everything we weren’t supposed to have.”
He smiled, that crooked, boyish smile that made your chest ache. “Yeah. Me too.”
And just like that, the walls between you crumbled. He stepped closer, fingers brushing yours, until his hands were cupping your face. “I don’t want to hide anymore.”
You laughed softly through tears. “Then don’t.”
And he didn’t.
The first kiss was hesitant, sweet, everything you’d both been holding back for a year compressed into one perfect, salty, sandy moment.
The waves crashed around you, but you didn’t care. The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving streaks of pink across the sky, and for the first time since last summer, everything felt right.
Conrad finally looked at you. Really looked at you. And this time, he couldn’t look away.
Summary: You thought a summer internship at Oscorp would mean coffee runs and chemistry reports—not falling for your mysterious lab partner with a hero complex and spider-like reflexes. But when secrets surface and danger creeps in, you’ll have to decide if you’re ready to risk your heart… for the boy behind the mask.
The elevator dings with a sterile beep, and you step into the heart of Oscorp Tower.
You try not to look too starstruck. The glass walls, the chrome floors, the soft hum of technology—it all feels like stepping into the future. You're here. Somehow, you got selected for the Summer Scientific Advancement Program at Oscorp—an internship normally reserved for college students. Your hands shake, just slightly, as you clutch your clipboard and find your name on the welcome list.
(y/n) (l/n) — Assigned to Genetics Division, Lab 3B. Partner: Peter Parker.
You blink. That name sounds… familiar.
You don’t have time to think too hard about it before a voice beside you speaks.
"Hey, um, you’re (y/n), right?"
You turn. Standing a few feet away is a tall, messy-haired boy in a grey hoodie, camera bag slung across his chest. His eyes are warm brown, slightly too wide, and very, very nervous.
"That’s me," you say. "Peter?"
He nods, scratching the back of his neck. "Guess we’re partners."
You don’t know it yet, but this is where it all begins.
---
Peter Parker is strange.
Not in the bad way. More like the "you definitely have secrets and I want to know them" kind of way.
He's smart—brilliant, really—but deflects compliments like they're contagious. When you're working together, he gets so caught up in the details that you often have to remind him to eat. Or breathe.
On the third day of your internship, a sample tray nearly crashes to the floor.
Peter catches it—without looking. Reflexes like a cat.
You narrow your eyes at him.
"You've got some fast hands, Parker."
"Lucky timing," he says too quickly. "I, uh, played a lot of baseball."
You smirk. "You seem more like the chess club type."
He shrugs and mutters something about being a man of many talents.
---
Oscorp's labs are divided by clearance levels. You're not supposed to enter anything above Level Two. But one afternoon, while running samples down to storage, you see Peter swipe into a Level Four lab.
Your stomach flips.
He wasn’t supposed to be able to do that.
Later that evening, you sneak a look at his tablet and catch sight of something odd: a file labeled "Arachne Protocol."
You don’t ask him about it. Not yet.
But now you’re watching him more closely.
And you’re pretty sure he’s watching you, too.
---
Your apartment is tiny and cramped, but the fire escape makes up for it. On especially hot nights, you climb out with a book and a glass of lemonade.
Tonight, you're not alone.
Spider-Man lands silently on the railing beside you.
Your heart leaps into your throat.
"You shouldn’t be out here alone," he says.
You stare at him. "And you shouldn’t be sneaking up on people in spandex."
He huffs a soft laugh. "Fair."
The two of you sit in silence for a moment. Then:
"Have we met before?" you ask.
He doesn't answer.
You don’t know it yet, but the way he looks at you under the mask will haunt you in the best way.
---
You confront Peter the next day.
"What’s the Arachne Protocol?"
He freezes.
"Where did you see that?"
"Does it matter?"
He sighs, scrubs a hand through his hair, and looks more exhausted than ever.
"It’s a project Oscorp buried. Gene editing. Spider DNA. Things that should’ve never left a lab."
You whisper, "Like the spider that bit you?"
His eyes widen.
You’ve connected the dots.
---
You and Peter sneak into Oscorp after hours to get proof of what they’ve been hiding.
The lab is nearly empty, but a new compound is missing from storage. Something labeled VX-43.
Peter looks pale. "That’s a weapon. I think it’s already been released."
Before you can run, security arrives.
Peter grabs your hand. "Hold on."
You swing through the glass window in Spider-Man’s arms.
You scream. He laughs.
You’re falling for him. You hate that it feels like flying.
---
"You lied to me," you say, arms crossed.
Peter stands in front of you, mask off, eyes desperate.
"I didn’t want you to get hurt."
"And I didn’t want to be left in the dark."
Silence.
Then, softly: "I trust you, (y/n). I just didn’t trust myself."
Your heart twists.
You kiss him.
---
Oscorp falls under investigation. The internship ends.
Peter walks you home.
"This wasn’t how I imagined summer," you say.
He grins. "What did you imagine?"
"Less secrets. More sleep. Fewer rooftop swings."
He pauses.
"More kissing?"
You laugh. "Maybe."
You take his hand.
And somewhere beneath the city lights, two wired hearts beat in time.
Summary: When Steve Harrington asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend only for one night — just to get back at his ex, Nancy Wheeler — you never expect the lines between fake and real to start blurring. What begins as a simple favor to repay a debt quickly turns into something neither of you saw coming.
You were halfway through reorganizing the horror shelf at Family Video when Steve Harrington crashed into your life for the second time — this time with less blood, but more desperation.
“Okay, I know you’re gonna say no,” he started, hair already doing that slightly frantic floof thing he had when he was nervous.
You sighed, not turning around. “Let me guess. You need someone to cover your shift because you’re emotionally compromised again?”
“Worse,” he said, dead serious.
You finally looked up. “Worse than you crying during Terms of Endearment last week?”
He pointed a finger. “That was a powerful cinematic experience and I stand by my reaction.”
You raised an eyebrow, waiting.
He ran a hand through his hair and leaned on the counter. “Nancy’s bringing Jonathan to Tina’s Fourth of July bash. You remember Tina? Loud. Loves pink punch. Throws theme parties like her life depends on it?”
You nodded slowly. “What does this have to do with me?”
He winced. “I need a date. Someone… convincing.”
The silence between you stretched long and taut. “You want me to fake-date you?”
“Just for the party,” he rushed to say. “One night. Pretend you’re super into me so Nancy thinks I’m doing fine. Better than fine.”
You blinked. “And why would I do that?”
He gave you a look. The look.
“You literally owe me your brother’s life.”
Damn him.
A year ago, your little brother wandered too far into the woods near Lover’s Lake. Steve had found him — alone, scared, cornered by one of those Upside Down abominations — and carried him out with a bloody bat and a bruised ego. You owed him. Reluctantly.
“One night?” you repeated.
He nodded eagerly. “Promise.”
You sighed. “Fine. But there are rules.”
“Obviously.”
“No kissing.”
He looked mildly offended. “I’m not a sleaze.”
“No weird pet names.”
He grinned. “Not even ‘honey bunches of—’”
“Try it and I’ll punch you.”
He held up his hands. “Deal.”
You sighed again. “This is going to be a disaster.”
Steve smirked. “Maybe. But we’ll look good doing it.”
---
“Okay,” Steve said the next afternoon, sprawled across your couch, munching on Twizzlers. “We need a believable backstory.”
“You’re putting way too much thought into this.”
“This is my reputation we’re talking about. If we’re faking this, we’re going full rom-com.”
You rolled your eyes. “Fine. We met at Family Video.”
“That’s boring.”
“You spilled soda on me.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
You leaned back, arms crossed. “We flirted. You asked me out. We’ve been secretly dating for two months.”
Steve pointed a licorice whip at you. “And we’re super into each other.”
“No.”
“Come on, for believability.”
“No one will believe I’m that into you.”
He clutched his heart. “Ouch.”
You smirked. “You’ll live.”
---
Tina’s backyard was buzzing with glitter, sparklers, and half-hearted patriotism.
You arrived with Steve’s arm around your waist and his hand oddly warm against your hip. You’d borrowed a denim jacket from him for effect. It hung off your shoulders like it belonged there.
Nancy spotted you from across the lawn, a red cup in her hand and Jonathan by her side.
Steve stiffened. “Showtime.”
You leaned in. “You good?”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I will be.”
You mingled, sipped warm punch, and laughed at Steve’s over-the-top stories about your "dates" — all of which were technically lies, but his smile made them feel like memories instead of fiction.
At one point, you sat close on a porch swing. Fireworks popped in the sky above. Nancy glanced your way more than once.
“You’re a good fake girlfriend,” Steve said quietly.
You turned to him. “You’re a good liar.”
He chuckled, but his gaze lingered.
---
Later that night, when most of the party had dwindled down to drunk teenagers and melting popsicles, Steve walked you home.
“It worked,” you said, nudging his arm. “Nancy looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.”
“Yeah.” His voice was distant. “She did.”
You both stopped at your doorstep.
Steve looked at you for a long moment.
“This was supposed to make her jealous,” he said. “But the only thing I kept thinking all night was how easy it felt being with you.”
Your breath caught.
“We’re not really dating,” you whispered.
He nodded. “I know.”
You opened your door, hesitating. “Goodnight, Harrington.”
He gave a crooked smile. “Goodnight, fake girlfriend.”
---
The next week, you kept the act going longer than planned.
A casual arm around your shoulder in Family Video. A hand brush when passing popcorn. Inside jokes that weren’t part of the script.
And then one night, after a shift, he drove you home, parked outside your house, and didn’t leave.
“I think I’m in trouble,” he said softly.
You turned to him. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to stop pretending.”
Neither did you.
But that scared you more than you could admit.
---
Two days later, you heard Nancy and Steve arguing behind the store during a smoke break she definitely wasn’t supposed to be taking.
“You think dating her fixes everything?” Nancy snapped.
“She’s not some rebound,” Steve hissed.
Your heart sank.
Because she was. That’s how it started.
You left before he could notice you listening.
---
You ghosted him.
Didn’t reply to his calls.
Skipped work shifts.
Until he showed up at your house, drenched in rain, eyes wide and heart on his sleeve.
“Don’t shut me out,” he said. “Please.”
You crossed your arms. “I was a stand-in. Admit it.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You were the wake-up call. I thought I wanted Nancy to regret losing me. But I just wanted someone to really see me. And you did.”
Your breath hitched.
“You still do.”
You stared at him. “This isn’t part of the act.”
He stepped closer. “It never was.”
Summary: You and Peter Parker are paired up in your advanced biochem class at Empire State University. He’s always flustered, always running late, and always bruised—though he brushes it off with a nervous laugh. You don’t know he’s Spider-Man. He doesn’t know you’ve had feelings for him since week one. But when a late-night study session happens, feelings turn into words.
Peter is late again.
You tap your pen against your notebook, trying to look unbothered, but your knee bounces beneath the lab bench. It’s not that you’re annoyed—okay, maybe a little—but it’s more the fact that you’ve grown used to him showing up like this: disheveled, breathless, half-apologizing, half-grinning like he knows you’re too soft to stay mad.
And he’s right.
“Sorry—Professor Cho caught me in the hallway,” Peter says as he skids into the chair beside you. His backpack thuds to the floor. “Something about the midterm. Or maybe… mitochondria?”
“You’re two minutes away from me replacing you with a more reliable lab partner,” you say, but your lips curve despite yourself.
“Who? Chad?” he gasps. “You’d betray me for a guy who still calls it 'yeast goop'?”
You raise an eyebrow. “At least Chad shows up on time.”
Peter gasps again—fake this time—and presses a hand to his heart. “Cold.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the flutter in your chest. He’s ridiculous. And charming. And unfortunately cute when he’s flustered.
You need to get over this crush. Stat.
---
Weeks go by, and Peter gets more familiar. More open. You notice things.
The cuts on his knuckles, the way he stretches like his ribs ache. The excuses that get vaguer. “Bike accident.” “Tried parkour. Didn’t go great.” “Ran into a door.”
No one bruises that much running into doors.
One night, while you’re walking home from the lab, it clicks.
A blur swings past you on the rooftops, a flash of red and blue, and then it stops. Pauses. Watches. You can’t see his face behind the mask, but something in your chest tightens.
Spider-Man watches you for just a moment… then vanishes into the night.
You whisper, “Peter?”
And you know.
---
You don’t tell him. Not yet.
But you do start carrying a spare ice pack in your bag.
“Why do you always have this?” Peter asks as you press it gently to his wrist after he bumps it in the lab. His voice is casual. Too casual.
“I’m accident-prone,” you lie. “And I’ve seen you trip over a microscope stand.”
He grins. “I did do that.”
You nod. “Twice.”
That night, there’s a fire alarm in your dorm building. You end up crashing on Peter’s couch, because it’s too late to go back, and your roommate’s being weird with her situationship.
And of course, his bed is broken (conveniently), so you both crash on the floor. In one bed. One blanket.
You don’t touch. But your backs are almost brushing, and it feels like gravity is tugging you toward him all night.
---
Midterms hit hard.
So do the villains.
Peter starts missing class. He texts excuses, sends half-hearted memes. You pretend not to worry. But when he shows up with a split lip and his hoodie zipped high to hide something you’re sure is a bandage, you’ve had enough.
“You don’t have to lie to me, Peter,” you say quietly as you clean a scrape on his palm during office hours.
He stiffens. “What?”
You meet his eyes. “I know.”
A long silence.
“I was careful,” he whispers.
“I know.”
Another pause.
“I didn’t want you to get dragged into it.”
You shake your head. “Too late.”
---
After that, it’s different—but better.
You patch him up without pretending. You help him study when he’s too exhausted to focus. He brings you shawarma from across the city in under ten minutes and sheepishly calls it “friendly neighborhood food delivery.”
And one night, when you’re both lying on his floor after a disaster of a day of studying and trying to catch Peter up on all the work he's missed, he gives you a gentle smile. "Thanks for being so cool. I know its so easy to tell people about me being Spider-Man, so thanks for, yk, not." You smile back.
"that's what lab partners do, keep secrets about each other's superhero identities." you say, he responds with a chuckle.
"Right, lab partners." Peter says, slightly under his breath as if he was wishing you were something else. "Just Lab partners."
You look up from your books and give Peter a look of misunderstanding. "Hmm?" you question. "y/n, you help me study, help me catch up on work, fill me in on what information people have about me, and keep probably the most difficult secret in the world and that still makes us just lab partners?"
"Idk, aren't we?"
"Yeah.. Yeah" Peter says softly.
Peter looks back down at the books, trying to avoid eye-contact. Your fingers slowly glide onto his bruised hand. He looks up at you. "we don't have to be just lab partners.."
Peter sits up and softly places his hand onto your crimson cheek. He slowly closes his eyes and places a gentle kiss upon your lips.
Your lips slowly pull apart from each other and your eyes meet.
"Lab partners kiss, right?" Peter jokes. You push his shoulder to which he chuckles at.
The rest of the night, you and Peter laugh, "study" and share more strictly 'lab partner' kisses.
Summary: The cool air guided your boots towards the waft of fresh coffee and the potential perfect guy...
The morning air was crisp, the kind that made your cheeks tingle and begged for the comfort of a warm coffee. The city buzzed with it's usual hum, but your mind was set on one thing: a steaming cup of caffeine from Central Perk. You adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, eyes on the familiar neon sign ahead.
But then, your steps faltered.
There he was.
Leaning casually against the brick wall outside the coffee shop, a cigarette between his fingers, stood a tall stranger. His dark hair was perfectly tousled, and his sharp, impossibly gorgeous features made it difficult to look away. A hint of smoke curled around him in the cool air, giving him an effortlessly rebellious edge that only seemed to enhance his charm.
You paused for a moment, your breath hitching as you tried to remind yourself how to walk. He wasn't even doing anything particularly special, just standing there, gazing out at the street. And yet, it felt like the whole world had shifted slightly off-kilter.
You considered your options: walk past him and pretend you hadn't just mentally melted at the sight of him, or... No, that was probably your only option.
Taking a steady breath, you adjusted your coat and started walking again, your heart pounding harder with every step.
As you got closer, you tried to focus on anything but him- the cracks in the sidewalk, the sound of your boots, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting from the shop. But it was no use. Your eyes flickered towards him.
He noticed.
"Let me guess," he said, exhaling smoke as his gaze settled on you. "You're either here for the coffee or you're about to tell me what a horrible habit smoking is. I'll save you the trouble - I already know."
A small laugh escaped before you could stop it, and his lips twitched into a smirk. Up close, he was even more devastating. His eyes - those warm, mischievous brown eyes - locked onto yours, and suddenly, standing still felt just as difficult as walking had moments ago.
"That's too bad, I came all this way." you replied jokingly.
"Guess you'll have to settle for the coffee then," he says flicking the cigarette to the ground and stamping it out while nudging his head towards the door of the cafe.
You both head towards Central Perk as he opens the door for you. You stroll towards the counter. "What can I get you?" Gunther asks.
"She'll have something Irish, gotta keep me interesting."
You scoff at his joke, "Even whiskey has its limits"
Gunther hands you your drinks, as you notice the sky grow darker. Raindrops begin to trickle down the Central Perk sign.
"Oh shit, I have to walk to the subway." You say, realizing you're about to get soaked.
"Idk I think that white button up might look better drenched." Chandler jokes with a smirk.
"I don't think my brand new boots would agree."
"Well, I stay right upstairs, why don't we wait the rain out together?"
"As lovely as that sounds, for all I know you could be some serial killer luring me back to your place to dismember me."
"Fair enough, at least let me lend you an umbrella."
"Mmm idk."
"Come on, it's right upstairs." He says.
You glance outside as the rain gets heavier, so you reluctantly agree. He takes you up to his apartment, it's the most bachelor apartment you've ever seen. A pool table instead of a functional one, two barcaloungers, and old pizza boxes on the counter. The only decent thing was the wooden flooring.
He offers you a beer just as the door opens. Another handsome brunette enters, this one a little more confident.
"Dude, you won't believe- woah, who's your friend?" Joey says looking you up and down.
Chandler looks over at you, realizing you still haven't introduced yourselves.
You smile, "y/n". Chandler smiles, "Chandler".
"How you doin'?" Joey interrupts.
"This is Joey, sorry about him we've tried sending him to a Christian retreat but he got kicked out for sleeping with all the woman there.."
You laugh and look up at Chandler, "Is that where you two met?" You say with a playful smirk.
Chandler laughs at your wit and after a while Joey leaves and you and Chandler forget all about the umbrella and get to spending time together. The rest of the afternoon you share stories, laugh and discover how similar you are.
You look out his window and notice that the rain has cleared. "Thank you so much for having me, but I really should get going."
"Okay" Chandler says, slightly disappointed.
He walks you to the door and you step out. You turn around and grab his hand, slipping a piece of paper into his palm. "Call me." You say, before placing a soft kiss to his cheek and walking away, looking over your shoulder to get one last glimpse of the perfect guy.
Summary: You move to Stars Hollow as a senior in highschool. While unpacking your boxes, you look out your bedroom window, a glimpse of a tall brunette catches your eye.
You've just moved to Stars Hollow with your mom and cat, Toffee. After a long day of traveling, you finally made it to your new place on Main Street.
"Hun, please come help carry some of these boxes in from the car?" Your mom asks, standing outside digging in the car boot. You place down some bags of groceries on the counter top and make your way back outside.
"Thanks love." Your mom says, kissing you on the cheek as she passes you on her way into the house. You grab the last box and close the boot door, locking the car as you make your way back inside. Walking up the pathway leading to the front door, you see a tall guy walking down the street. You share a quick glance as you carry the heavy box through the front door.
"Anything else you need help with?" You ask your mom. She shakes her head with a smile, so you decide to start unpacking.
You stumble upstairs, a box of books in hand. You place the cardboard box down on your bed and cut the tape, opening it. You had sorted your books by genre, the romance books lay on top. You paced the room back and forth, placing books neatly on your shelves. On your way back to the bookcase, you glance out your window, noticing the boy that was walking alone along the street earlier. He had now gone into the house opposite yours. He peered out his window, noticing you looking back.
You quickly spin around, hoping he didn't notice you looking into his window. You close your eyes tightly and then turn back slowly, praying he's left. But there he stood, a gentle smile plastered across his features. You smile back, your stomach consumed with butterflies.
{the next day}
Your mom had to leave early for work, so you had to walk to the bus stop this morning. On your way down the hill in the road you hear someone catching up to you. You turn your head around to see the boy who stays across the street from you, jogging in your direction you.
"Hey" he said, slightly out of breath.
"Hey" you respond, with a smile.
"I saw you moved in across the street from me." He brings up, looking back to your house over his shoulder. "How's that going?"
"Yeah, my mom got a new job working at the Dragonfly Inn and so she moved us from the outskirts of Connecticut to Stars Hollow. Unpacking is going well for the most part, just got a little left to do."
"Cool" he responds. "You on your way to school?"
"Yeah, I'm catching the bus though."
"Where do you go?"
"I've been sent to Chilton. You?" You ask, looking up from the ground and in his direction.
"Oh, I go to Stars Hollow High."
You both continue walking down the street, making conversation. He accompanies you to the bus stop and then offers you his hand. "I'm Dean, by the way."
"I'm y\n, it was nice meeting you." You smile, shake his hand and then climb onto the bus.
After a few weeks of living in Stars Hollow, you and Dean have become quite aquatinted with one another and he walks you to the bus stop every morning. You've been to the local store, Doose's Market, for "things" on a regular basis, but in all honesty, you've only been going so often because you know Dean works there.
One afternoon after school you went to Doose's Market to pick up some groceries your mom had forgotten to get. The little bell above the door jingles as you step into Doose's Market, scanning the shelves for the few items you need. You grab a pint of ice cream, a loaf of bread, and a box of cereal - you know, the essentials.
At the counter stands none other than Dean, looking bored, leaning one elbow on the register. His floppy hair is a little messy, and the green apron tied around his waist only makes him look more endearing.
As you approach the register, he straightens up, flashing you a quick grin.
"Stocking up for a wild Friday night?" Dean asks playfully.
You smirk, setting the items on the counter.
"Oh yeah. Cereal for dinner, bread for breakfast. Ice cream is just... a lifestyle choice."
Dean chuckles, scanning the ice cream first.
"You know, I read somewhere that cereal for dinner is the ultimate sign of giving up." He says with a slight grin.
"Whoever said that clearly doesn't know how satisfying Lucky Charms can be."
He raises a brow, glancing down at your box. "Frosted Flakes. Classic. Respect."
"Thanks. I live life on the edge."
Dean bags your items, but his hands slow deliberately, as if he's in no rush to end the conversation.
"So, this is what, the second time this week I've rung you up for ice cream." Dean mentions.
"What can I say? I'm consistent." You say with a slight smile.
"Or predictable." Dean says, looking down at you.
"Touché. What about you? You working every time I come in, or just waiting to catch me at my weakest moments?"
Dean leans forward slightly, resting his arms on the counter, "Maybe a little bit of both." The playful smile on his lips makes your heart skip a beat.
"Well, glad to see my grocery habits are keeping you entertained."
He shrugs, handing you the bag.
"Hey, anything to make this shift a little less boring." Dean says, looking at you with his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
"Glad I could help." You say as you grab the bag. Dean leans in just a bit closer, his voice dropping low enough that only you can hear.
"Same time next week?"
You can't help but smile. "Only if they have a sale on Frosted Flakes."
Dean chuckles as you turn to leave, the sound of his laugh following you out the door.
"I'll save you a box."
The little bell jingles again as you push your way out of Doose's, groceries in hand. The sun is now dipping low, casting the street in warm, golden light. You're halfway down the block when you hear rapid footsteps behind you.
"Hey! Wait up!"
You turn just as Dean jogs toward you, breathless but grinning. His green apron flaps slightly as he slows to a stop, hands on his knees for a second to catch his breath.
"What, forget to charge me for something? Or did you miss me already?"
Dean straightens up, running a hand through his messy hair, clearly trying to play it cool but failing adorably.
"Both. I mean - wait, no. Just one of those."
"Smooth, Forester."
He steps closer, a little shy now but determined. "Look, I've been thinking. I keep seeing you come in, and we talk, an it's... fun."
"Aw, is that your way of saying you like me?" You tease
Dean chuckles, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Maybe, I just- okay, here goes. Would you want to, I don't know, grab coffee with me sometime? Or dinner? Or.. whatever people do when they're not buying cereal or ice cream?"
You cross your arms, pretending to think it over. "Hmm. I don't know. I've heard dating your checkout guy is pretty risky."
Dean smirks, leaning in just enough to make your pulse race. "Risky how?"
"Well, what if I agree, and it goes badly and then the next time I'm in the store, you give me expired milk out of spite?"
Dean laughs, and you couldn't help but join him.
"Id never. But I can promise free paper bags for life."
"Now that's a tempting offer." You say in a mock serious tone.
"So.. is that a yes?"
You smile. "It's a yes, but only because I was promised free paper bags."
"Of course." Dean plays along, with a slight chuckle. "Pick you up at seven?"
"Sure, see you then." You say, turning to leave.
{later that evening}
You're all dressed up and ready for your date. You look out your window and watch Dean walk across the street and before you can second-guess your outfit one more time, the doorbell rings. "I'll get it!" You call out to your mom. You head downstairs and open the door, Dean's eyes glisten as he sees you. He's leaning against the doorframe like the leading man in a romantic movie. He's wearing a plaid button-up, his messy hair slightly tousled in a way that makes him look effortlessly handsome.
"Hey, you. Ready for the best date of your life?" He asks, grinning widely.
"That's a pretty bold claim, Forester. Let's hope you can back it up." You say with a smirk.
He chuckles, tilting his head toward his truck across the street. "Come on, skeptic. I've got a whole night planned just to impress you."
You grab your bag and step out onto the porch, and Dean immediately offers his arm like some old-fashioned gentleman.
"Are you always this charming?" You say teasingly.
Dean pretends to think "Hmm.. mostly for you. But I do try to keep my standards high."
You role your eyes playfully and let him lead you to the truck. As he opens the passenger door for you with a flourish, you can't help but laugh.
"Wow, chivalry isn't dead after all." You play.
"Told you. Best date ever."
The drive through Stars Hollow is slow and cozy. The autumn air smells like fallen leaves and cinnamon, and the lights from the town square glow softly as you pass by. Dean taps his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm with the music playing on the radio - a familiar indie tune that makes you hum along.
Dean glances over at you "You know, if this date goes well, I might even let you pick the radio station next time."
With a mocking gasp you reply "A second date? Are we moving too fast, Dean?"
He laughs, a deep and warm sound that makes your heart flip. "I'm just trying to plan ahead. Gotta make sure you stick around."
The truck pulls up on the edge of town, where a small carnival is in full swing-string lights, food stands, and laughter filling the cool night air. Dean hops out and runs to your side to open your door, offering his hand like you're royalty.
With a grin you mention, "I could get used to this."
Raising a brow, Dean replies "You better."
He tugs you along to the entrance, where the smell of popcorn and fried dough immediately makes you sigh with happiness.
"Okay, Dean. You win. This is already pretty perfect."
Teasingly Dean replies "See? And we haven't even gotten to the cotton candy yet."
He buys two tickets for the ferris wheel, and before long, you're sitting side by side in the small carriage, the town below growing smaller as the wheel lifts you higher. The air is cooler up here, and without thinking, you scoot a little closer to him.
Softly Dean asks "You cold?"
Teasingly you answer "Nope. Just strategically stealing body heat."
He chuckles and drapes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in tighter. "I don't mind. Steal as much as you want"
As the ferris wheel carries you both to the top, Dean looks over at you "So.. second date?"
"If you're lucky."
Dean smiles softly at you and then places a hand upon your cheek. He slowly closes his eyes as he pulls you in. He kisses you softly as if you were glass that could break at any point. He pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. You slowly pull back, leaning your foreheads together. You bite your lip softly, a smile soon overcoming your lips. This definitely was the best date you'd ever been on. You and Dean spend the rest of the night laughing, joking and smiling, all mixed with the occasional kiss.
Heyy, would you mind writing one about Draco Malfoy on the astronomy tower? ❤️
Ofc!!
Beneath the stars
Summary: During potions class Draco passes you a note, inviting you to join him that evening on the astronomy tower to ask you something important.
You and Draco had been secretly going out with each other for a couple of months but decided to keep it a secret as you were a hufflepuff and he was a slytherin and had a reputation to keep.
Sat alone in potions, you focus on the tedious task Professor Snape had set out for you to complete. You had to brew a perfect draught of living death, something you're only supposed to learn in year 6. Snape thought it'd be an appropriate punishment for missing class the day before.
Stirring your potion, you feel a gentle tap against your shoulder. Your head turns slightly as you see a folded up piece of parchment upon your table, it was shaped into a beautiful paper bird. You look over your shoulder and see Draco smiling back at you. He nodded his head towards the paper, suggesting you open it.
Turning back to the paper, you unfold it and see a paragraph written on it. ______________________________________
Hey love
Would you mind meeting me at the astronomy tower tonight, I've got a surprise for you! 23:00 sharp!! (you look beautiful today, btw) ❤️
D. Malfoy ______________________________________
Turning back to face him, you send him a gentle nod.
{later that day}
You snuck out of your dorm room, trying your best not to wake the other girls. You slip out the door and make your way to the tower.
Once you reach the bottom of the spiral stairs, you look up above you and begin your climb to the top. Just as youre about to reach the last step you call out to draco. "Draco?"
With no response, you peek you'd head around the corner. You see a hand reached out to you. Taking his hand, Draco tells you to close your eyes. He leads you up the last few steps and towards the edge of the tower.
You open your eyes and see a plaid blanket laid on the floor with lit candles beside each corner of the blanket. There was a platter of your favourite snacks.
"Taa daa" Draco says, a smile displayed across his gentle features. "I snuck into the kitchen and stole some of your favourites." You giggle softly, amazed by the effort he had put in for you.
He leads you over to the blanket and you take a seat next to Draco, your legs crossed.
Throughout the evening, Draco feeds you chocolate covered strawberries and shares laughs with you. "Okay, so I've asked you here for a very specific reason..." Draco says, looking a little more nervous than before.
He holds both your hands and begins his prepared speech. "We've been going out for a while and I really like you. The other day when I saw you talking to Potter I could feel l my blood boil and I just knew I didn't want you to be with anyone else. So, I was wondering.. Could I be your boyfriend, officially?" Draco asks nervously awaiting your response.
You smile brighter than ever before and scream your answer. "YES!! YES!!" Draco embraces you and places a much awaited for kiss upon your lips.
You spend the rest of the evening lying together beneath the stars, a now official couple.
Summary: You and Peeta have both been in the games before and now find yourselves once again plucked from the herd like lambs.. However, through it all, you and Peeta still find a way to share a beautiful moment.
The sun was starting to set, casting a soft golden glow across the beach. You and Peeta had somehow found a moment of peace amid the chaos of the Quarter Quell. The gentle crash of waves and the salty breeze felt like a strange contrast to the games you were stuck in, but right now, it was just you two.
Peeta was sitting next to you, his hands running absentmindedly through the sand. “You know,” he said, glancing at you with a soft smile, “I’d rather be baking bread right now than fighting for my life. This is nice, though.”
You smiled back, leaning into him a little. “Yeah, I never thought we’d get a beach date in the middle of the Hunger Games.”
He chuckled, his laugh like a warm hug. “Guess we take what we can get, right?”
The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was the kind of silence where words weren’t necessary. The tension of the games faded, if only for a few minutes, as Peeta reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.
“I don’t know how much longer we’ll have this,” he said quietly, his eyes on the horizon. “But I’m glad I get to spend whatever time we have… with you.”
Your heart did a little flip at his words, and you couldn’t help but blush. The world might be falling apart, but in this moment, it was just you and Peeta, the sound of the ocean, and the fading light.
“Hey,” you said, nudging him with your shoulder, “after all this, how about we actually get that beach date? You, me, and no one trying to kill us.”
Peeta’s smile grew, lighting up his face in a way that made your heart flutter. “Deal,” he said, squeezing your hand. “And I’ll bake you something special for it. You’ll love it.”
Peeta smiles at you brightly, his complete focus on you. He slowly inched closer to you until his palm lightly grazed your cheek before settling upon your jaw. His lips met yours and the world fell silent.
The thoughts of worry about the games left your mind completely. All you could think about was this moment. He gently pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.
And for that moment, it was just the two of you, dreaming of a world where you could be together, no Capitol, no games—just Peeta, his warm kisses, and the promise of something better.
Summary: On a snowy Christmas Eve, you and Harry share a cozy moment on the Gryffindor common room couch. As a hidden romance blossoms, making the holiday season unforgettable.
You're sat alone in the gryffindor common room in the early hours of Christmas Eve morning. Cuddled up on the couch beside the fire place, with a blanket draped over your legs, you engulf yourself in your latest read. Hermione had suggested this book on the collection of magical folklore and mysterious phenomena, so you thought you'd give it a try.
Sat near the burning fire under the Christmas tree was Cinnamon, your light auburn coloured cat, enjoying the warmth from the flames on the cold winter night. Her head lifts from the floor as she glances over to the stairway leading to the boys dorm rooms.
Shortly after, you hear soft footsteps begin to grow louder. Harry's warmly lit face peeks out from behind the wall of narrow stairway.
"y/n?" Harry murmurs, with a slight hint of confusion. "What are you doing up so late?" he asks and he pushes off the wall and heads in your direction.
"Couldn't sleep, so I decided to give Hermione's book a chance." you say with an unamused expression and lift the book from your lap, showing it to Harry.
Harry pulls a face (😬) feeling sorry for you, as he strolls over and sits down on the couch next to you, lifting the blanket along with your legs and setting them down on his lap. "How's that going?"
Slightly taken aback by his gesture, you take a moment before replying. "Honestly, I've read not even 3 pages and I'm bored out of my mind" you say with a breathy huff.
Harry chuckles, "It can't be that bad! Come on, read me a page". You sigh as you open the book and begin to scan the page.
"In the hidden depths of the Forbidden Forest, the ancient runes whispered of a long-lost artifact, said to possess the power to-" before you could finish your sentence, Harry fake snores.
You playfully smack his shoulder "Harry!"
"Yeah, no.. That's beyond boring, good luck with that." he says, patting your leg. You roll your eyes "See what I mean. How am I supposed to read another 400 hundred pages of this?!" Harry shrugs, a smile displayed across his gentle features.
"Anyway, why are you up?" you ask, out of curiosity and the desperate want to change the topic. "Nightmare." Harry says bluntly. You know that his nightmares have been getting worse and more frequent lately, so you just offer him a comforting smile.
He lets out a soft sigh as he places his head upon your shoulder. You can feel the pace of your heart begin to speed up as you try to conceal your feelings for Harry. You've been friends since year 1 and have had feelings for him since then. You've been too scared to say anything as you don't want to jeopardise your friendship, but the want to be more has been eating at you more than ever.
"Harry" you say with a quiet tone, the words so close to getting trapped in your throat.
Harry lifts his head, his light green eyes locking with yours. You can feel the butterflies ignite within your stomach.
"I know we've been friends for ages and I treasure our friendship more than anything." you begin, with a shaky voice. "Yeah.." Harry comments. "Have you ever thought about it being more?" "What?" Harry asks, his eyes begging for an answer. "Nevermind, I don't know what I'm going on about.. Forget I said anything." you say while letting out an embarrassed and put on laugh.
Harry's eyes shift down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. He lifts a hand and places it against your crimson lit cheek as he pulls your face down to his.
"You have no idea how much I've thought about it being more." he whispers as he leans in and you slowly close your eyes as his soft lips meet yours and the world around you melts away.
He kisses you gently and calmly at first, but as time goes on, he becomes more desperate. Harry wraps his hand around the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He kisses you with such passion and desperation.
Harry breaks the kiss slowly as his eyes beam up at you. He swiftly takes your hand and guides you from the common room up the stairway and into his dorm room.
