Hi pretty soul! First of all, as i always say, English is not my first language so feel free to correct any mistakes (as long as you're not rude or mean ofc). I don't know if what I do could be considered as writing, but I do it because sometimes I have these oddly specific scenarios and I don't find any fanfics that adjust to them and I thought maybe someone would like them too so I share them. I hope you enjoy them! :)
Matt Murdock:
The fella over there
All along
The project
Hits different
The devil I know
Stiles Stilinski:
Invisible string
Seth Cohen:
Locked up feelings ode
Also, I don't know if I should upload them in ao3, I use it really often so I'm hesitant. Anyways, I still need my fake scenarios to sleep so I'll write more.
Current character addictions
P.S.: Interacting with them (specially reblogs) is really appreciated and makes me feel more motivated, but obviously you don't have to if you don’t want.
i’m not a logan girlie specially, but i can’t believe i haven’t seen an edit with crush by ethel cain, like you knowwwww that man’s working with those handsss
To all the heroes who write in like abandoned fandoms, you are my fave people ever. Please never stop writing!!! I love it all!! I’m just genuinely awful at writing in comment sections, but know that I love yall!!!
The low rumble of Rodrick’s van was the only sound in the stillness of the night. The neon glow from passing streetlights cast fleeting shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the way his fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel. You sat beside him, your legs tucked under you, basking in the comfortable silence that only came with being around him.
It was past midnight, and the world felt softer, slower, as Rodrick drove with no real destination in mind. The cool night air seeped through the cracked windows, carrying the scent of asphalt and pine. Your town always felt different at night—quieter, almost like it belonged to just the two of you.
Rodrick exhaled through his nose, tapping the dashboard with his palm. “Alright, Y/N, serious question,” he said, his voice scratchy from a mix of exhaustion and whatever energy drink he’d chugged before picking you up. “If you had to listen to only one band for the rest of your life—like, no skips, no variety—who would it be?”
You hummed, pretending to give it deep thought. “Löded Diper, obviously.”
Rodrick groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That doesn’t count. You’re just saying that ‘cause you feel bad for us.”
“Maybe.” You grinned. “But also, I like your music, okay? So sue me.”
He side-eyed you, lips twitching like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he flicked on the stereo, and the van filled with the opening chords of a song you didn’t recognize.
“What’s this?” you asked, shifting in your seat as the steady drumbeat kicked in.
Rodrick shrugged, gripping the wheel tighter. “Just a mix. You’ll like it.”
You didn’t miss the way his knuckles flexed, how his knee bounced as if he was waiting for you to say something. His usual cocky attitude was nowhere to be found—just nerves, poorly hidden under the dim glow of the dashboard.
You leaned closer, letting the song wash over you. It was a mix of classic rock and some heavier alternative stuff, but then, a song that was unmistakably different played through the speakers—something softer, melodic, almost sweet.
You turned your head slowly. “Rodrick… did you make this?”
He snorted. “What? A playlist? Yeah, Y/N, that’s not exactly rocket science.”
“No, I mean… for me?”
Rodrick drummed his fingers against the wheel, gaze fixed on the road ahead. “I dunno,” he muttered. “Maybe.”
A warmth spread through your chest, something soft and fluttery. You had known Rodrick for years, and despite his general ‘I don’t care’ attitude, there were always these moments where he’d surprise you—where he’d let that tough exterior slip just enough to show the messy, endearing boy underneath.
“Rodrick,” you pressed, smiling despite yourself. “Did you just make me a mixtape?”
“I didn’t put it on a tape, did I?” He groaned, but you saw the tips of his ears go pink. “Just—ugh, don’t make it weird, okay?”
You let out a small laugh, watching as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was so bad at this—at being soft, at admitting when he did something thoughtful—but that just made it all the more endearing.
“I love it,” you said simply, because you did.
Rodrick peeked at you, and the tension in his shoulders eased, just a little. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the engine and the music filling the space between you. The city lights faded as Rodrick turned onto an empty backroad, the kind lined with trees where the only illumination came from the headlights slicing through the dark.
He ran a hand through his already-messy hair. “Alright, your turn. One band for life—not Löded Diper.”
You tapped your chin dramatically. “Hmm… Nickelback.”
Rodrick gasped, swerving the van slightly. “Take that back.”
You cackled, throwing your head back. “Make me.”
Rodrick shot you a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky I don’t pull over and leave your ass on the side of the road.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” you challenged, poking his arm. “You’d miss me too much.”
Rodrick rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” But his grip on the wheel tightened, and there was something softer in the way he glanced at you, in the way his lips parted like he wanted to say something else but couldn’t quite figure out how.
The mixtape—his mixtape for you—kept playing, the tracks bleeding into each other, each one carefully picked by him. It was so painfully obvious now, what this was. He hadn’t just thrown together a bunch of songs he liked.
He’d picked songs with meaning. Songs that told you things he didn’t know how to say.
The van rolled to a stop at the edge of a hill that overlooked the town. It was a spot the two of you had come to before, but tonight, it felt different. The lights below twinkled like tiny stars, and for the first time in a while, everything felt… easy.
Rodrick leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms before resting one over the back of yours. He was pretending to be casual about it, but you could feel the warmth of his fingers, just barely brushing your shoulder.
“You wanna know something?” he asked suddenly.
You turned to him, resting your cheek against the seat. “Always.”
Rodrick licked his lips, drumming his fingers absentmindedly against the dashboard. “I, uh… I don’t really do this. Like, the whole, y’know…” He waved a hand vaguely. “Feelings thing.”
“I never would’ve guessed,” you teased.
He shot you a look. “I’m being serious.”
“I know,” you said, a little softer this time. “Go on.”
Rodrick exhaled sharply, like he was bracing himself. “I just—look, I like having you around, okay?” He squirmed, like the words physically pained him. “And not in, like, a ‘you’re cool to hang out with’ way, but in a ‘shit, I think about you all the time and it’s annoying’ way.”
Your heart stuttered, heat creeping up your neck. “Rodrick—”
“Wait, I’m not done,” he interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before forcing himself to look at you. “I made the dumb mixtape because every time I hear a song I like, I wonder if you’d like it. And I wanna know what you think about it, and—ugh, this is so lame.”
You laughed, but it wasn’t mocking—it was light, breathless, because God, he was a mess, and it was adorable.
“Rodrick.” You reached over, slipping your fingers through his. His breath hitched, and he tensed, but he didn’t pull away.
“…Yeah?”
You squeezed his hand. “I think about you all the time, too.”
Rodrick blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
You grinned. “Yeah, idiot.”
For a second, all he did was stare at you like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, with a sudden burst of confidence, he leaned in.
The kiss was quick—just a hesitant brush of lips, warm and a little clumsy—but it made your stomach flip all the same. When he pulled back, his cheeks were red, and he was trying so hard to act cool about it.
“Well,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “That wasn’t terrible.”
You rolled your eyes and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him back in.
This time, he kissed you properly.
And if the mixtape continued playing softly in the background, with lyrics about love and late-night drives and stupid teenage feelings—well, neither of you were complaining.
i've been rewatching doawk because rodrick and the films where funny, but i'm also so mad i've never got to see a film adaptation of dork diaries. that book saga was everything to me when i was a kid and i don't know, it just feels unfair to my inner child
Summary: Being with Peter Parker is more chaotic than you thought.
Content: just lots of fluff and some crack.
Word count: 5.2k
Authors notes: I sincerely apologise for how horrible this, it’s kinda half-assed and I was getting a bit of writers block. Regardless, I hope you somehow enjoy! Not really proofread Divider by @uzmacchiato
You had been a nervous wreck the whole day on Friday. You couldn't focus in class because your mind was too busy running through all of the possible scenarios of your date with Peter, especially the worst ones. What if by the end, he decided he didn't like you and ditched you? What if he stood you up because he realised you weren't the one he wants? What if you embarrassed yourself to the point that he knew he couldn't keep this thing going on between you forever?
Yeah, you were overthinking, but that was a talent of yours. Especially because you had been pining over Peter for a few months, and you never thought you'd get to go on a date with him. You really liked him, and you really didn't want to mess this up.
You dressed into your best outfit when the time came, doing your hair in a casual way with your usual makeup routine. Then, you grabbed your things and headed out, locking the door of your house as your parents weren't home yet.
The first thing you and Peter were going to do on your date, was have dinner at this little diner you were both close enough to walk to. Then, Peter would be taking you someplace else that you knew nothing about it, because he wouldn't tell you where you were going, a surprise he said. You were afraid you weren't going to enjoy this mysterious place, and you would be spending the whole night pretending to be entertained.
Gosh, you really needed to stop worrying. The first step was to have a casual little dinner, since Peter said he felt too weird for not taking you out for it. Now, you knew all of this because ever since he had asked you out, and you had told him to call you, that's all he had ever been doing. You two talked almost non-stop now, whether it was over the phone everyday after school, or at school where you interacted more frequently.
At least that gave you the reassurance that it wasn't going to be too awkward. You two knew what to say to each other, and you would stay on the phone with him for hours without getting bored. It would be fine, right?
As you spotted the diner, your breath hitched and the worries came flooding back. It was different between you two this time, because you were now an actual date, and it felt much more formal with more pressure. You almost chickened out, wanting to turn around and run back to your house, but you mentally slapped yourself and kept your chin up, heading in. This was your dream, you could not waste it.
It seemed you had gotten there before Peter as you couldn't spot him, so you sat in a booth, saving a seat for him and politely telling the waiter you were waiting for someone. Then you realised this is how it starts every time someone gets stood up on their date, and you start internally panicking again.
You overthink the situation until five minutes later, a cute boy walked through the door, and you recognised him as the one who makes your heart skip a beat.
You waved him over, and a smile crept into his face as he locked eyes with you. He came over and took the seat across from you, his eyes studying your appearance before his smile widened.
“Hi,” he said softly.
You smiled bashfully. “Hi.”
“You, um- you look nice. Really nice,” Peter complimented, and you could see the small contort of cringe on his face at himself.
You let out a breathless laugh. “Thanks, you look nice too. The menus are there, if you want to take a look.”
“Oh, thanks,” said Peter, and it was your turn to cringe at yourself. Of course he wanted to look at the menus, how else was he going to order?
Silence fell upon you both as you read through the menu, deciding what you wanted. A few minutes later, a waiter came, took your orders and then took your menus, receiving a smile and a thank you from you and Peter.
You exchanged an awkward smile at him, and your worst fear came true. You had had a feeling that it would be awkward, no matter the amount of talking you two had done before! You squirmed at the silence, the embarrassment seeping into your bones as your mind scrambled frantically to say something.
When you found it, you opened your mouth at the same time as he did, both starting to speak. You slammed your mouth shut as he did, and you both laughed nervously.
“You go first,” said Peter.
“Okay, um… I was just asking to make sure you’re not planning to kill me after this, with the so-called surprise you have for me,” you said sheepishly.
Peter let out a breathless, real laugh, caught off guard. No, not likely.”
“Not likely? That’s not reassuring!” you said with a laugh.
“Well, you’ve caught me. I orchestrated this whole thing so that I could gut you in a dark alleyway,” said Peter jokingly, faking an intimidating voice.
You burst into even more laughter, your hands flying to your face. “You’re messed up in the head! That wouldn’t work anyway, you forget we have a masked vigilante swinging around the city.”
Peter snorted, putting his hands up in surrender. “True enough. I’m no match for spidey.”
Conversation came easy after that, any awkwardness long forgotten. When your food came, it felt as though you barely touched it as you were too focused on him. Your worried started to ease away without you realising it, because the playfulness and warmth between you two was enough to calm you down.
You finished your dinner, having a little argument over who paid, before Peter forced his money into the waiter’s hand. He held the door open for you as you walked you, to which you blushed.
You now walked beside him as he lead the way to this mysterious location he was sure you would like. Your sides consistently kept brushing against each other’s, feeling the touch of his fingers against yours and it made you shiver with longing, wanting to reach out and hold his hand in yours.
You crossed the busy road once, and walked more for a little bit before he halted in his tracks, and you stopped with him, looking at him curiously.
"Here we are," said Peter with a nervous smile, turning to the building you stood by.
You followed his gaze, narrowing your eye as you looked through the glass doors. Peter held the door open, stepping aside to let you in first. You laugh a little at his gentlemanly antics this time, and thank him as you walk through.
Your eyes widen as you take in your new surroundings, the fluorescent neon lights with varieties of colours gleamed in your eyes as you spun around with curious eyes. You could hear the beeping noises of videos games, with the laughter and cheering of children as they excitedly ran past you. Peter walked up beside you, studying your reaction.
"You took me to an arcade?" You asked Peter in disbelief.
"I remember you mentioned you liked going there as a kid, so I thought it would be fun. But we can go somewhere else if you like-"
"You worry too much, I love it!" You said happily, beaming at him. A grin spread on Peter's face, and you realised something as you registered his words properly. "You remember me saying that?"
Peter reached up to scratch his neck, that adorable goofy smile on his face. "It's hard to forget anything you say."
You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks, and you laughed in a flustered way. "Shall we start playing?"
"That's what we're here for, right?"
You went to the front counter to buy some tokens, and then ran further in to start playing the games. You first played a mini game with basketball hoops, and when you beat him, you teased him relentlessly, reminding him of that one time he broke the backboard at school. He went red at the reminder, and got his revenge by brutally beating you in the next game.
You hadn't had so much fun in so long, what with your friends often being busy and having homework to do anyway, or taking care of your little cousin. With Peter, you truly let loose, and your stomach hurt from laughing, your cheeks hurting from smiling. Some games, you lost, but you two still won lots of others, earning lots of tickets.
You got enough to get something from the prize counter, and you let Peter decide what to do with them since you were indecisive. He considered it for a few minutes before choosing the Hello Kitty plush toy, giving it to you. You were a flustered mess at this, your cheeks burning, and you had to wonder if it was appropriate to kiss him in that moment.
You were playing another game of Donkey with Peter watching, when he went quiet where he would usually cheer you on. You finished the game, winning, and looked at his distracted expression.
"Everything okay?" You asked with slight concern.
Peter blinked as if snapping out of a daze, and smiled at you. "Yeah. Uh, I just need to go to the toilet for a sec. You can keep playing while I'm gone."
"That's okay, I'll wait," you said kindly, as he handed the Hello Kitty plushie he had been holding for you. "Wouldn't want you to get lost."
Peter smiled, but there was something unreadable behind it as he went to the toilet. You brushed it off, and hugged the Hello Kitty plushie to your chest as you smiled to yourself. God, you were really head over heels for this boy, there was no going back now. You wondered what your parents would think of him, surely they'd approve.
Peter was taking a little long, but you still didn't mind. You glanced around the place to find a means of distraction, and overhead a kid saying, "is that Spider-Man?"
You blinked, and looked at the kid, following where he was pointing his finger to the backrooms for the staff. You couldn't see from where you were standing, but the kid he was with following his gaze, and frowned, "Spider-Man where?"
"Didn't you see him through that window? Just wait... I swear I saw him there before," said the first kid, tilting his head.
The other kid scoffed. "You're imagining things. You're just desperate to meet Spider-Man."
"Everyone wants to meet Spider-Man."
"Just focus on the game."
You brushed off the conversation of the kids. You started to get worried when Peter still didn't show up, and you were about to call him with your phone when he came running at you, panting as he stopped in front of you, his hands on his thighs as he bent down slightly to catch his breath.
"Sorry... got distracted... long story..."
"Are you okay?" You laughed, bewildered by his state. It seemed like he had just ran a marathon.
"Oh yeah, y'know... I'm just not very fit, you see. Never been athletic," said Peter, waving a hand to dismiss it as he straightened you.
"You didn't seem unathletic when you stole the basketball from Flash and broke the backboard," you said with a teasing smile.
Peter narrowed his eyes at you. "You're never letting that go, aren't you?"
"Nope."
"I'm hungry, wanna get a snack? We should get a snack, take a break," Peter suggested breathlessly.
You sent him a suspicious look before agreeing. Listen, you weren't gonna judge whatever his actions were in the bathroom. It was more than natural for everyone to need to shit, and you weren’t the immature type to dwell on it.
You left the arcade for a bit, finding a little takeaway where you ordered hot dogs. You two went to sit at the park to eat your hot dogs, sitting on the bench together in the quiet, calming atmosphere with the distant noises of the city in the background. There were only a few inches between you two, a distance that spoke to you silently.
"Thanks for taking me out tonight," you said after a moment of silence, your Hello Kitty plushie perched beside you. "I had a lot of fun."
"Me too," said Peter softly, "and no worries. I was pretty afraid you weren't gonna like it if you can't tell."
You laughed softly, finishing your hot dog as you wiped your mouth with the napkin. "You had nothing to worry about. I haven't been to the arcade in so long, my family never has time so it was really nice. I haven't had this much fun in a while."
Your eyes lifted to meet Peter's gaze, and your heart skipped a beat at the tenderness in his irises. God, he made you feel so many things. No one had ever had you in so deep before.
You noticed something as you stared at his face, and you lifted your hand slightly, "uh, you have some sauce on around your mouth. It's on the corner."
"Do I? Shit," Peter murmured, grabbing his napkin and wiping at the wrong corner.
You laughed. "Other one."
"This is so embarrassing," said Peter, and you laughed harder as he wiped at the right corner. He got most of it, but there was still an smidge of it there, wiped at but not fully gone.
"You still have some... here," you tentatively raised your own napkin to his face, wiping it away from him. You pulled your hand back a bit, and your breath hitched as you met his open and intense gaze.
You gazed into each other's eyes, and all you could hear was your quickened heartbeat. It wouldn't surprise you if he could hear it too, and then you wondered if his heartbeat was as wild as yours.
You considered it before you made a move, sliding just that bit closer to him, closing the gap between your sides on your bench. Peter was unblinking, and you dropped your hand, while very fibre in your body ached for him.
He was the one to lean in, and you let out a soft gasp as his nose nudged the side of yours, your lips brushing his.
"Can I kiss you?" Peter whispered, adding, "please?"
You did it for him instead of answering, softly pressing your lips against his. You were both still for a moment before his hand slid up to the side of your neck, cupping it as he kissed you with a quiet passion. You felt him turn his body to fully face you, and you did the same, one of your hands resting on your waist and nothing else because you simply could not believe this was happening, and his lips were so soft, like you imagined but even better.
He pulled you closer against him until you were flush against each other, and you sighed. Another minute passed before you broke the kiss for air, and your eyes fluttered open to see that his were still closed, like he was savouring this moment.
When he did open his eyes, he smiled at you. It wasn't bashful, nervous, forced or anything like that. It was real, genuine and beautiful.
"You're so pretty," he said quietly.
You felt your cheeks started to burn again, and you buried your face into his shoulder out of embarrassment, and he laughed fondly, placing a hand on your back. You lifted your head off his shoulder, looking over your own before giving him a teasing look.
"Keep it G rated, Kitty's watching. She already feels bad enough about third-wheeling," you said seriously.
Peter burst into laughter, and you giggled with him, admiring the crinkles in the corners of his eyes when he smiled.
"I'll keep that in mind," said Peter solemnly, before pulling you in for another kiss.
You wrapped your arms around him properly, securely as his arms went around your waist. This kiss was more passionate, more intense than the last, and you stayed like that for a while, ignoring the fact that Hello Kitty was watching.
Your heart could've burst with happiness.
***
Dating Peter Parker was like a dream. It was the good kind of dream, where you pinched yourself in the most intimate moments with him, because you were in disbelief that you had gotten this lucky. Where you touched his face just for the sake of it, to feel his real skin under your fingertips and realise he was really there with you.
With the way that he was at school with his lack of friends, you had sort of believed he would never really let anyone in, never let anyone get close to him. You would've never thought you'd been the exception for that. Although, you could tell there were still things about him that he kept quiet. But you never pushed, because the choice was his if he wanted to tell you these things.
He was sweet, patient, attentive to everything you did, and amazing to kiss. You were shocked when he told you you were his first girlfriend, because first of all, had everyone else who had seen him really been that blind to not make a move? And second of all, he was doing great on his first run. Deep down, you hoped this would be his only run, but you weren't going to dwell on that.
You sometimes hung out with him in between classes, always sat next to him Physics class, and often saw him after school. You found that he had a knack for being a bit late, and he sometimes cancelled plans due to unexplained emergencies, but he didn't do it all that often. Sometimes you were disappointed by it, but it was better than him doing these things without a warning.
You were currently at his house, sitting on his bed while playing games on your laptop. You were waiting from him to come home from his book club which you had no idea he was part of until now. He had insisted over text that you could head to his house straight away, and he would meet you there.
So you had, a little tentative but his Aunt May, who you had first met a week ago, was as sweet to you as the first time she had seen you and let you in. Now he had to meet your parents next, which you were terrified for.
You let out a bored sigh, closing the tab on your game and looking around his room. You had been in here before, but you always admired it every time, like the collection of skateboards he had on his wall, and the Polaroids he had of you behind his computer.
You were snapped out of your daze when there was a sudden thud on the window, and you jerked violently, head whipping around.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw a suit of red and blue in front of the window, which were opened by their hands before they stumbled through.
You were perplexed as to why Spider-Man had come crawling into your boyfriend's bedroom until he yanked the mask off, revealing a head of brown hair you had run your fingers through. His back was turned to you, but when he turned around and met your gaze, his body went rigid.
You hadn't even felt your mouth drop, your eyes wide as you spluttered out, "you... you..."
"Shit, shit! It isn't what it looks like," said Peter hastily.
You looked him up and down, struggling to match his face with the famous Spider-Man suit.
"No? It's not what it looks like? Care to explain why you're wearing Spider-Man's suit?" You said breathlessly.
"Uh... it was for Physics club! We were doing some tests... we got a replica of his suit, and we wanted to figure out his powers, and stuff..."
"Peter, you said you were doing book club," you corrected.
Peter's mouth dropped, before his hands went to either side of his head. "What are you even doing here?"
"We had plans to hang out, remember? You told me to go here!" You reminded him.
"I didn't know you were gonna be in my room though!" Said Peter in exasperation.
"Why wouldn't I be? I didn't think you had anything to hide, which clearly, you do!" You shot back.
He rushed forward and planted his hand over your mouth. "Please be quiet! Aunt May is gonna hear and she's gonna get worried."
"Peter, I'm more worried about the fact that you're fucking Spider-Man! I mean- what even- I can't even process this-"
"Okay, I know, it's crazy," said Peter, putting his hands on your shoulders. "And I'm sorry for keeping it a secret, and if you're mad, that's okay too-"
"Why would I be mad?" You asked.
"I- well, I kept a secret from you," said Peter, frowning slightly. "Aren't you mad?"
"I mean, I'm shocked, definitely shocked. I can't believe my eyes right now, but... I don't think mad is the right word," you said, gazing at his suit. "This is just crazy."
"Yeah, I know, I know. God, you weren't meant to find out this way. You weren't really meant to find out ever," said Peter, straightening up and running a hand through his hair.
"Well here I am," you breathed.
"Yeah, here you are. Hey, Y/N, please don't tell anyone. I keep it secret for a reason, and if this got out."
You stand up, placing your laptop beside you. "Of course I won't tell anyone. I wouldn't have even if you didn't tell me to."
Peter sighed, looking at you anxiously. "Thank you. It's just that no one knows, no one's supposed to know. But I guess you being the first isn't so bad..."
You blinked. "Wow. You're telling me I'm the first person who knows who Spider-Man is?"
Peter smiled dryly. "Congratulations."
"This is... holy shit, I can't believe this..."
"We'll talk about it in a second, but um... I need to get changed," said Peter awkwardly. "Y'know, I can't go walking around in this suit, defeats the whole anonymous thingy."
"Oh, right, sorry," you say, heat rushing to your cheeks. You sent him an awkward smile and open the door to leave, leaning on it once you close it.
Your boyfriend is Spider-Man. Peter is Spider-Man, you are dating the city's vigilante. What the hell.
This leads you to go into deep thought about everything, all those things you thought were a little strange, out of the usual.
When Peter told you to come back, you said while walking in, "a lot of things make sense now. All those plans you cancelled for vague reasons, why you're always a bit late..."
Peter chuckled sheepishly, "yeah."
A memory came back to you, and you gasped loudly. "Hold on, that was you? You saved my cousin from being run over?"
Peter's smile became more bashful. "Yes..."
"Oh my God, no way! Peter, thank you so much for that. I was so grateful... wait, I remember Spider-Man was staring at me when my cousin was teasing me about you. Oh no, you heard that conversation?" You said fearfully.
He confirmed your question by the look on his face, and you slapped your hands to your face, embarrassed by what he would've heard.
"My cousin is a nightmare, I tell you. He didn't know what he was talking about, I didn't call you my boyfriend!" You defended.
You heard Peter laugh, and he took your hands away from your face, "you don't need to be embarrassed. Overhearing that actually propelled me to ask you on our first date."
You stared at him. "Really?"
"Yeah. I was sort of planning to back down after we couldn't that first time, but overhearing that... I don't know, I just decided to risk it, and it was the best risk I've taken," said Peter fondly, his pupils dilating as he looked at you. "It turned out for the best."
You were speechless, your heart melting under his gaze. So because of Xavier, Peter had asked you out on a date? This whole Spider-Man thing just kept getting weirder.
"I have so many questions," you said.
"Then shoot, you have Spider-Man wrapped around your finger," said Peter.
Your stomach fluttered wildly at that.
The next time Peter came stumbling through your window as Spider-Man, it was at your house.
This time, you two hadn't made any plans. You were taking care of Xavier again, who played the Wii in the living room while you sat in your room, planning to dedicate the evening to studying.
That was until there was a sudden bang at your window, and you had looked around to spot New York City's unofficial hero falling through your window.
You gasped, rushing out of bed to close and door and then over to him. "Peter? Are you okay?!"
“Amazing, actually,” said Peter sarcastically, his voice strained as you helped him off the floor. You could hear him hiss in pain as he took his backpack off, tossing it to the floor.
You guided him to sit on your bed, and gently took his mask off. Your eyes widened upon seeing the blossoming bruises on his face, with a busted lip and a bloody nose.
“What happened?” You gasped.
“Oh, you know, just had a conversation with some guys who were trying to rob a bank. We disagreed on some things,” said Peter casually.
“Yeah, I can see that,” you said, concern laced in your tone as you examined his face, gently holding his jaw as you tilted it from side to side.
Peter smiled weakly. “You should see how they look though.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Being with Peter after finding out he was Spider-Man was definitely an experience. He was much more open about his vigilante activities now, sending you a casual text about how he would be there soon, he just needed to deal with a guy who was holding people hostage.
You had seen some of his minor injuries after a fight before, but this was the worst state you had seen him in so far.
“I’ll go get you an ice pack, and we need to get that blood off your face… oh shit, my cousin’s here,” you said, the realisation dawning on you.
“The one who motivated me to ask you out?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, he’s playing the Wii. Okay, stay in here, and don’t make a sound. I’ll be back soon,” you instructed, leaving your room and quickly heading to the kitchen to grab an ice pack and a wet paper towel.
“What are you doing?” Xavier asked, noticing you.
“Uh, I have a headache. Don’t bother me,” you lied, shooting a sharp look at Xavier as you walked by him, going back to your bedroom.
“That’s a weird way to deal with a headache,” he said, and you ignored him, rolling your eyes as you went back into your room, closing the door behind you.
“He’s so nosy,” you told Peter in annoyance, sitting on the bed next to him and wiping his nose with the paper towel. He winced, and you softened, murmuring an apology.
“Thanks for taking care of me, I know I gave you a shock,” said Peter gratefully.
“Of course, I did say you could come to me whenever you needed it,” you said, smiling softly.
After wiping his face, you pressed the ice pack to the apple of his cheek first. Peter placed his hand over yours, his eyes focused on you before they dropped down to your lips.
You swallowed nothing, and you melted as Peter leaned in for a tender kiss. You let him hold the ice pack, your hand going to cup the side of his neck. He tilted his head for a better angle, pulling you closer to him.
You were interrupted by a knock on your door, and you both jumped away from each other.
“Are you talking to someone?” Xavier’s voice asked from the other side of the door, and you let out an exasperated sigh.
“None of your business, go away!” You snapped.
“I’ll tell your parents you snuck someone into the house.”
“I’m going to kill him,” you whispered to Peter, who looked amused. “I didn’t! I’m on the phone!”
“But I heard the other voice really clearly!”
“Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong and go play your stupid games!” You said loudly.
“Ooh, you’re hiding something,” said Xavier teasingly, and when you saw the doorknob being twisted, your eyes flew wide and you lunged forward to press your side against the door, keeping it closed.
You sent a panicked look towards Peter, and he hissed to you, “just tell him!”
“No!” You whisper-shouted.
“I can hear you.”
“What if I was naked? You don’t go barging into people’s rooms like that!” You scolded.
“Ew!”
“Yeah, exactly!”
“If you tell me what you’re hiding, I’ll keep it a secret.”
You groaned, and at Peter’s look, you reluctantly said, “stay out there, and I’ll tell you in a second!”
“Okay!” Said Xavier, sounding pleased as you heard him walk away.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why he’s so nosy. I’m going to throw him out a window one day,” you said heatedly to Peter.
Peter seemed quite entertained by the whole ordeal. “It’s okay. I think I might as well meet the kid anyway, after all, I have a lot to thank him for.”
You smiled bashfully at his implications, and looked him up and down. “Do you, uh, have a change of clothes?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s in my backpack.”
You grabbed his backpack off the ground and gave it to him. “I’m going to leave the room while you get changed, and you’re going to come out when you’re done in the hopes I haven’t throttled my cousin by then.”
Peter grinned. “Okay.”
“Can’t believe you’re meeting my cousin before my parents…” you muttered to yourself, opening the door and quickly closing it as you joined Xavier in the living room, who was back on the Wii.
“So, watcha hiding?” He asked.
“You’ll see in a second. Honestly, you’re so embarrassing, you need to learn to mind your own business-”
“You were talking to someone in your room, maybe I was checking that you weren’t being kidnapped!”
“That doesn’t even make sense!”
A minute later, your heart stuttered as your boyfriend came out of your room, limping slightly only in a way you noticed.
“Xavier,” you started nervously, “this is Peter, my…”
Xavier gasped. “Oh, he’s the boyfriend! No way, you snuck a boy into the house!”
You glared at him. “How about you say hi to him?”
“Oh, right. Hi Peter, my cousin talks about you all the time-”
“No I do not-”
“Woah, what happened to your face?” Xavier asked, his eyes widening in fascination.
Peter laughed at the kid’s behaviour while you scowled. “Uh, someone tried to rob me, and I got into a fight with them…”
“Did you win?” Xavier inquired.
“I think so?”
“Oh, good.”
Peter smiled awkwardly, “nice to meet you.”
You snorted quietly, because little did Xavier know, they had already met.
“Nice to meet you too. Hey, if you guys were in there alone, were you having sex?”
A/n: I have so many ideas for something like this.
You weren’t supposed to be here.
The florescent lights in the detention room buzz above you, casting a washed-out glow on the scratched-up desks and the bored faces of the other unlucky students. But none of them are the reason your blood is boiling.
No.
Rodrick Heffley is slouched across the room, feet kicked up on a chair that isn’t his, eyeliner slightly smudged, chewing a pen like it insulted his band. He hasn’t looked at you once since you walked in, but you feel his smirk anyway—like static electricity crawling up your spine.
asshole.
You know he thinks this is funny. You know he’s loving this.
You’re wearing your new cheer hoodie, lip gloss still glossy, nails still perfect. You’d just finished choreographing a homecoming routine when Principal Haskell stormed into the gym, waving a folder of “evidence” that said you were responsible for the glitter bomb prank that turned the senior hallway into a rave. Your name—along with Rodrick’s—was written in permanent marker on the underside of the detonator box.
And it was Heather Mills who “found” it.
Heather with her sickeningly perfect smirk and her fake innocent eyes.
Heather, who hated that you showed up this semester with better clothes, brighter popularity, and real cheer skills. Heather, who’s been trying to one-up you at every turn since you stole her spotlight…and, apparently, Rodrick’s attention too.
Fucking bitch. If she had a brain she might realize you can’t stand the guy.
“Cheer Queen finally cracked,” Rodrick mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.
You glare at him. “Eat my mascara wand.”
He snorts. “Tempting.”
“Ugh.” You slam your binder onto the desk, crossing your arms. You’re not supposed to be here. You have a tutoring session. A dress fitting. A whole life that doesn’t involve sitting across from Rodrick Heffley in a room that smells like old socks and Axe body spray.
You’re not supposed to be here—and yet here you are, framed like some glitter-obsessed criminal.
You don’t speak again for fifteen minutes.
Rodrick starts tapping his pen on the desk in the rhythm of some metal song only he knows. You pull out your lip gloss just to have something to do, applying it with sharp, deliberate strokes. He watches. You pretend not to notice.
Your jaw clenching for the excessive tap-tap-tap.
Outside, the sky is turning gray. It starts raining—of course it does. You can practically hear the irony in the way it splatters against the windows. Drama weather. Typical.
Rodrick shifts suddenly, scraping his chair back and striding across the room. You tense.
“Don’t even think about it,” you snap, holding a hand up like he’s a wild raccoon. “Stay in your lane, garage band.”
He stops next to your desk anyway, leans against it like he owns it, like he owns you. “Relax, princess. I’m not here to steal your glitter or whatever crap you are obsessed with."
You turn to face him slowly. “Did you set me up?”
He raises a brow. “You think I’d risk my band getting suspended just to get you stuck in detention? That’s Heather’s brand of psychotic, not mine.”
You blink. He said it like it was obvious. Like he knows Heather’s games. Like maybe he’s been watching this whole time. You hate the twist your stomach does so you left out a scoff instead.
“So,” he continues, “if I didn’t set you up, and you didn’t do it, then that leaves one conclusion—”
“Heather.” You say her name like a curse.
Rodrick gives you a mock round of applause. “Gold star.”
You sigh and slouch back in your seat. “She’s obsessed with ruining my life.”
He shrugs. “Welcome to the club.”
You don’t mean to ask it, but the question slips out anyway: “Why does she hate you?”
Rodrick’s mouth quirks, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Because I stopped pretending to like her last year. That tends to piss people off.”
You look at him differently for a moment. Not as the annoying delinquent who mocks your routines from the back of the gym. Not as the messy-haired menace who plays too loud in the parking lot and calls you Barbie.
But as a guy who maybe sees more than you gave him credit for. "So, still see me as some cheerbot?"
He leans down a little. “Still think I’m just a loser with a van?”
You hesitate. “Well. You do have a van.” You look away as your hand tightened around your glitter pen.
Rodrick grins. “Touché.”
There’s a pause. A long one.The kind where the room gets smaller.
The kind where your heartbeat starts pounding in your ears and your lip gloss suddenly feels too shiny and too kissable. Rodrick’s eyes flick to your mouth. Yours to his jaw.
And then the fire alarm goes off.
You jump. He groans. The door slams open and chaos breaks loose outside. Kids shouting. Teachers yelling. Papers flying. And before you can react, a gust of wind knocks open the windows—and the door slams shut behind you. Hard.
Locked.
You both scramble to the handle. You twist. Rodrick rattles. Nothing...of course.
You’re locked in detention. During a fire drill. Alone. With him.
“Oh my god,” you mutter. “I’m going to die here. I’m going to die in a stupid school with a stupid boy and my lip gloss isn’t even fireproof...—”
“Relax,” Rodrick says, shoving his shoulder against the door. “It’s probably a drill.”
“Or a test. Or a bomb. Or Heather’s final act of vengeance....that Bitch”
He stops, tilting his head. “You know, your panic voice is kind of hot.”
You spin on him. “Are you flirting with me right now?!”
He grins, boyish and reckless. “Depends. Is it working?”
You open your mouth—then close it. Because you don’t know what to say. Because your heart is hammering. Because you should be yelling at him, but you’re thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. To run your fingers through that messy hair. To grab his stupid flannel and pull him closer and—
Rodrick steps toward you. You step back until your spine hits the wall. He watches your reaction, something softer flickering in his eyes.
He leans in. Just a little. Just enough to test the air.
“If I kiss you right now,” he murmurs, “are you going to slap me or slap me after?”
Your voice comes out breathless. “That depends.”
“On?”
“How good the kiss is.”
That’s all it takes.
His lips crash into yours and the tension—weeks of snark and stolen glances and hallway collisions—explodes. His hands are in your hair, yours are gripping his shirt, and your perfect lip gloss is definitely ruined.
It’s messy. It’s desperate. It’s perfect.
And when you finally pull away, dazed and pink-cheeked, he’s smiling.
“You taste like strawberry.”
“You taste like teenage angst,” you murmur.
He laughs. And you realize you like the sound of it.
The door finally bursts open—Mrs. Harris with a clipboard, glaring. “What are you two still doing in here?”
Rodrick wipes his mouth. “Uh…detention?”
You smooth your hair, try to look innocent.
Mrs. Harris glares harder. “Get out.”
You do.
He holds the door for you. You roll your eyes, but your fingers brush his as you pass.
Outside, the rain’s stopped. The sky is clearing.
Heather’s across the quad, arms crossed, watching. Her glare could kill. You meet her eyes and smile sweetly then blow her a kiss.
Rodrick slings an arm around your shoulder like it’s nothing.
My favorite thing in Daredevil is when Matt is always saying how they have to handle everything the legal way, immediately followed up by a scene of him in costume beating up a dude for information.
