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#my maths grade has gone up this year n i wanna prove it was the right decision
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Imagine being Peter´s best friend and crushing on Spiderman
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Peter Parker / Spiderman X Reader 
Summary: You´ve been Peter Parker´s best friend for years.Recently you have developed a crush on Spiderman. However you don´t know your crush is actually your best friend, who has been in love with you for a long time. 
“Peter, come here and look at this”, you said.
You were lying on your best friend´s bed while he sat at his desk, doing his homework.
“(Y/N), I can´t right now. I´ve got homework and I still have to study for the math exam next week.”
You tried to hide a grin. You loved Peter, you really did, but sometimes you wanted to hit him, just to get him to look up from his books once in a while.
“It´ll just take a second, they might finally know who Spiderman is.They´ve posted a photo.”
This actually made Peter look up from his homework and walk over to you. He sat down next to you and you handed him your phone. 
You saw Peter reading the article. Though he wasn´t as interested in Spiderman as you were, the article about his identity caught his attention. 
“I don´t think that´s him, it´s probably another copy cat. Look at his hair, it´s way too long and his arms are too skinny. And he´s wearing glasses, have you ever seen a superhero with glasses?”
You smiled at your friend. 
“I think glasses are cute.”
Peter blushed. He looked over at his glasses on the bedside table. 
“It´s a shame you stopped wearing your glasses, they really suited you. Not that you´re not good looking anymore, it´s just... I´m gonna shut up now.”
You avoided to look Peter in the eyes, but you could feel him staring at you.
“What about your huge crush on Spiderman?”
Peter laid down next to you and you rested your head on his chest. This might have been awkward for other teenagers, but the two of you grew up together, you have been best friends for years, before hormones and crushes started developing. 
“It´s not a huge crush, it´s just a crush. I think. I don´t know.”
“That´s what I´ve been trying to tell you, you don´t even know him. What if he´s a dick? What if he´s old, like parent old, not like senior year old? What if-”
“Pete”, you interrupted him,”He can´t be that bad. He saved me and he´s been protecting the neighborhood for a while now. And he can´t be that old, he´s too athletic.”
Peter scanned your face. Even though you had a dreamy look in your eyes it wasn´t your usual crush look. He knew the crush look, he had to go through a lot of them since sixth grade when you had your first crush. 
“Sounds like you know him.”
You shook your head.
“I don´t, I really wish I did though. Maybe that´s why this isn´t like my other crushes, I don´t know him. In my head he´s this perfect hero, kind, brave, ambitious, funny, nice...”
Peter tried to hide a sigh. He knew he wasn´t your type but if you knew he was Spiderman maybe, just maybe, he actually had a shot.
“I´m rambling, I should probably go home.”
You got up from the bed, Peter sat up as well.
“See you tomorrow”, you said and pressed a kiss to Peter´s cheek. You always did that to say hello and goodbye, but for some reason this time it was different.
Peter had a plan. It wasn´t his best plan, but he had only had one night to plan and because it involved his feelings his thoughts were a bit clouded. 
He walked out of the house a few minutes earlier than usual. Aunt May had already gone to work when he left the house, so at least he didn´t have to lie and make up where he was going before school.
After walking for about twenty minutes he finally spotted you on your way to the subway station. He hurried over to you.
You noticed someone walking up to you and stopped to look at the person next to you.
“Peter, what are you doing here?”, you asked.
“I need to tell you something, can we go somewhere quiet?”
You were confused. Usually you met Peter a few blocks away from school, where he would wait for you under a tree with weird yellow fruits. 
You led Peter to an alley father away from the station. No one was nearby, everyone was on their way to school or work.
“Do you remember when we were kids and we talked about the Avengers and how awesome it would be to be a superhero?”, Peter asked.
Even though you were very confused and had no idea where Peter was going with this, you nodded.
“Well, a while ago I had to opportunity to become a hero, there was an incident with a spider which caused me to gain powers, spiderlike powers. I decided to use the powers to help people because my uncle always told me that with great power comes great responsibility. I didn´t really bother with a name but luckily YouTube solved that problem, they called me Spiderman.”
As a way to prove it Peter opened his bag and pulled out a Spiderman maks.
“I am Spiderman.”
You didn´t know what to say. You opened your mouth but had to close it again. 
“Peter, you´re my best friend. You´re the best person I´ve ever met. You´re not like Spiderman. He´s strong, heroic and brave. You however are funny, nice, kind, clever, ambitious and so much more. You may be Spiderman but to me you are more. You´re Peter, my Peter. And I think, cross that, I know... I am in love with you. Not because you told me you´re the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, I just think it took the confession to make me realize how much I love you.”
When you had finished you were breathing heavy. Part of it because you had talked so much but mostly because you just realized you were in love with your best friend and told him.
“(Y/N), I love you I´ve been in love with you for so long.”
A smile broke out on both of your faces.
“I love you”, Peter whispered.
You didn´t answer, instead you put one of your hands on Peter´s shoulder and the other on the back of his head and pulled him closer until you lips met.
It was a short kiss, a bit clumsy, but for the both of you it was prefect anyway.
“We need to hurry if we wanna make it to school in time”, Peter said, after you had broken the kiss.
You laughed.
“You´re such a nerd, but I love you.”                
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smokydrake · 7 years
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“Friendly Neighborhood Watch” | Young Sam x Reader | FLUFF
WARNINGS: suggestive, language
WORD COUNT: 6,485
DESCRIPTION: There are four days left of school before Graduation Day. It’s so goddamn obvious you and your childhood best friend Samuel Drake feel the same thing for each other… but you won’t say anything because you don’t want to risk your established friendship, and Sam doesn’t want to say anything because he can’t risk giving himself away. But when two people are a perfect match for each other, some things are bound to be revealed sooner or later.
This is technically Part 2 of “Trick of the Light”, but you don’t have to read that in order to understand this (regardless I’ll still leave the link to it below). I’m really pleased with how this one came out because it just makes my heart so happy like aw Sam :,)) It switches between Reader and Samuel so sorry if it’s kinda unclear as to whose POV you’re reading from haha *sweats intensely*
And I also wanna tag @le-ephemere @hyperionbabe @a-n-g-e-l-frommynightmare and @nataliarmnov because you guys are SO NICE and left such sweet comments on Part 1 ily please enjoy
Trick of the Light
Inspired by this song (Rather Be With You - Sinead Harnett)
The only reason why you were with Rafe Adler in the first place was because you were lonely.
Well, more like the one guy you were ever seriously in to never paid attention to you the way you wanted him to, and conveniently, Rafe Adler transferred to your shithole high school and you thought he’d be a lovely distraction.
Except that, despite getting together with Rafe, you still couldn’t get over your one true crush.
The boy next door, your childhood sweetheart, your best friend: Samuel Drake.
You remember precisely when you started crushing hard on that boy. You were in middle school, still in your semi-awkward tween stage, lost in the masses of equally confused prepubescent boys and girls trying to find their places in the social hierarchy. Sam was one of the popular kids; he and his little brother were both notorious for their mischievous methods of cutting class and their bright, cheeky grins. Always the one with extravagant (although mostly exaggerated) tales of adventures, it was expected for girls and boys to flock around Samuel Drake. His heady Bostonian voice and loopy grin managed to light up any room he walked into; Samuel Drake had this laid-back, passionate, and approachable dynamic.
And on top of that… it was almost painful how good-looking he was.
So when senior year of high school rolled around, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d be quarterback of the varsity football team and “Class Clown” in the annual yearbook. You can’t remember how many girls approached you, asking for your help as wing woman because you were his best friend. It was pathetic. One, because you felt used and grew wary whenever girls were friendly with you, two, because, well, you liked Samuel Drake, and you refused to be lumped into the same absurd group of those fanatical girls.
You knew it was petty. Using Rafe, who was a pretty decent guy (although occasionally quite full of himself) as a twisted form of self-preservation and a defense mechanism against rejection. Hell, it was plain shitty: you kissed him the night of the homecoming game knowing that the star quarterback was watching just to prove a nonexistent point. Sam probably didn’t even care that you were dating Rafe. He was always messing around with other girls, girls who were cheer captains and homecoming queens, gorgeous girls equally as popular as Sam.
It hurt you to feel this way for Sam; it was impossible for him to be romantically interested in you because you guys were best friends. There was nothing you could do. You had a thing for him, and it wasn’t like those little things that went away with time; it was one of those big things, the ones that you couldn’t control.
-
A light knocking on the wooden table interrupts your carefully-curated method of memorizing the historical timeline of the ancient Persian wars for your upcoming final exam.
Looking up from your history textbook, Samuel Drake, wearing his stupid half-smile and his stupid denim jacket that you’ve poked fun of countless times (yet love to see him in), lazily slides into the empty lunch table seat in front of you. You pull an earbud from your left ear.
“Hello? Anyone home?” He waves at you ridiculously, peering behind nonexistent windows and doorways.
“Wrong house,” you answer wryly.
Knowing that he now has your attention, Sam scoots forward in his seat and leans his chin on his knuckles. “Hi neighbor,” he says simply, almost suspiciously.
You raise an eyebrow, holding up a hand to stop him from saying anything more. “Not so fast. I know you’re up to something.”
He laughs a hearty laugh, and you feel his shoes underneath the table bump against your ankles when he leans back. Something skips in your chest. “You are too smart for your own good, y'know that?”
A smile triumphantly crosses your face. “I do know that.”
He narrows his eyes jokingly at you, and then shakes his head. “No one likes a know-it-all. You goin' to Nadine’s grad party tonight?” He then frowns and turns his attention to your open textbook. “Jeez, Y/N. We’re graduating in four days. And you’re still studying?” He flicks through a couple of pages, losing your reading spot.
“Hey!” You swat at his hands and yank the book from his grasp, earning you a poorly hidden grin. “You know, colleges can still decline acceptance if you have shit grades. So yes, I am studying. And thanks a lot, you lost my page.”
He winks at you. “No problem, I do my best.”
You roll your eyes at him, but you’re anything but upset. This is normal; Sam being happy-go-lucky about everything that you rarely ever see him serious, and you being the one constantly trying to keep him out of trouble. It is just another day spent with Samuel Drake and his carefree nature, dealing with his playful antics, and secretly being head-over-heels smitten with him.
“Hey but for real. Please go. I don’t wanna be lonely,” he pouts at you.
You sigh, abandoning your history notes. “I dunno. She’s kinda intimidating.”
At this, Sam scoffs. “C’mon, Nadine’s the nicest person ever. Sort of. But whatever, I heard there’s gonna be a shit-ton of booze,” he wiggles his eyebrows.
“Ew, stop that,” you scrunch your nose, reaching out to hold his squirming eyebrows in place with your thumbs.
“Why? You don’t find it attractive?”
“No!” Your scowl grows into a giggle, and Sam laughs at your laughing. You shove his shoulder once, playfully, and then he pinches your dimples with a thumb and forefinger. “Fine, I’ll think about it,” you finally say.
Sam raps his fingers on the edge of the table. “Sweet. Where’s Rafe?”
“He’s in the library studying.”
“Not here with you?”
You shrug, unconcerned. It didn’t even cross your mind that Rafe isn’t with you until Sam had brought it up.
You two sit at the table quietly, unsure where to continue with conversation. Normally, there aren’t many awkward silences between you two. But, ever since that night, things have been a little… different.
The night you caught Sam watching you touch yourself.
In all honesty, what you did was partially in the spur of the moment and partially somewhat thought out. You had heard the ping of your text notifications, one unread message from a Sam Drake, and you just happened to have noticed him at his window, merely a dark figure shadowed by his almost-closed blinds. Driven by your high, you found his gaze and held onto it, turned on by the fact that he was watching you. Little did he know that it was him in your thoughts, doing all sorts of unsayable things to you.
You both have yet to acknowledge it. So far, you’ve been acting as if nothing happened. Sam is doing the same. You’re not sure what will happen if you say something about it, and part of you doesn’t want to know. But what you do know for sure is that there are new tensions between you and Samuel Drake, and they cannot be contained for long.
Sam opens his mouth to say something, but then the shrill ringing of the lunch bell interrupts his train of thought. He closes his lips with a tight smile and gets up from the table. “Later neighbor,” he calls to you with a flash of a smile before disappearing into the crowd of chattering backpacks and textbooks.
-
“Hey, what are you supposed to wear to grad parties anyway?”
At the sound of her voice, Samuel’s ears perked up. Dramatically, he turned in his swivel chair to see Y/N leaning out the window of her room, her elbows resting on the white windowsill and lips pressed into a perfect pout. Sam’s blinds were up and his window was open too, giving him full view of her room a couple of meters across from his. Her hair was curled and pinned up with rollers, and Samuel thought she looked stupid adorable.
He checked the digital clock on his desk. It was 6:40pm, and the sun was drowning itself in the invasive night sky. He shrugged at the girl next door. “Hell if I know. Check that Pinspiration site, or whatever.” He threw a crumpled math worksheet through his window at her, which she batted away with ease, conditioned by years of practice.
“Ha, nice try. It’s in your yard,” she teased, pointing at the small wad of paper near the bottom side of his fence. Then she made a face at him. “Wait, did you seriously just say Pinspiration? Sam, it’s called Pinterest.”
He grinned quietly, pretending to turn his attention back to the video playing on his desktop. He heard her groan and mutter something under her breath before turning away from the window.
He cherished moments like this: how casual they were with each other. But time was ticking. They were graduating in just a handful of days. Afterwards, summer would fly by in the blink of an eye, and then she’d be gone, off to an Ivy League in the south. He had gotten a football scholarship to a college on the East Coast, and he calculated; he’d be 2,660 miles away from home.
Away from her.
It stabbed at his chest every time he thought about it. He was happy here. Of course, he was also excited for college, but he knew that there would be no place like home. It was only a matter of time before they would have to part ways, and he wasn’t sure how well he was going to handle good-byes.
Something light smacked against his hair, hitting the floor at his feet with a small thunk.
“Take that, Samuel Drake!” Her voice rang again, this time louder and full of glee. She had chucked her own paper ammunition at him, catching him off guard as he swam through his dismal thoughts.
Sam turned to the window again and raised both eyebrows. He reached to swipe the crumpled ball from the ground and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head at her as she did a little dance of victory. She had taken the rollers out, and her hair cascaded down her shoulders and curved against her rosy cheeks. He bit his lip out of habit, wishing that he could keep her forever.
“Now pay attention to me,” she huffed. “How’s this?” She called to him, pushing back her powder blue curtains so that he could get a better look. She was wearing a sleeveless top and a casual pair of jeans, and he admired how she could make something so simple look so effortlessly sexy.
“Great,” he replied coolly, masking the effect she had on him. “You ready to go? I can give you a ride.”
He hoped she would say yes. He drove a motorcycle: a silver Suzuki 500cc that he absolutely loved to death. He had only taken her on it once. He remembered distinctly what it was like to have the icy wind slice at his skin while her warm arms were wrapped tightly around his body. Those were probably the two best feelings in the whole entire world.
But she just shook her head and waved a dismissive hand at him. “It’s okay, my friends are taking me tonight. I’ll just meet you there?”
“Sure,” He said back, getting up from his seat to stretch his arms and to hide his disappointment. “See you in a few.”
-
Nadine’s party is huge. You’re not talking about the house itself; it’s a cookie-cutter two story like yours, but the party… it’s the biggest bash you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.
Her house is brightly lit, thudding energetically with the beat of R&B and crowded with cars parked dangerously along the curb. Teenagers line the front lawn, in the open garage, on the roof; it’s almost chaotic.
“Shit, this place is sick,” your friends squeal, eagerly linking their arms through both of your elbows.
You and your small group work your way inside the house, pushing through the huddled groups of people, some sober, some utterly wasted. Couples hide behind not-so-hidden corners making out, and somewhere at the back of the house, you can hear ecstatic hollering after a round of beer pong. You can’t help but laugh; Nadine’s is something straight out of a 90’s high school chick flick.
You and your friends are finally in the living room, and everywhere you look, there are just people, more people, and even more people. Coincidentally, you make eye contact with Nadine Ross, prom queen two years in a row and salutatorian of your class, lounging on her sofa with her enviously attractive group of friends. She gives you a welcoming grin and you return it to the best of your abilities, secretly giddy at the fact that you’ve been acknowledged by the Nadine Ross.
Your friend at your right elbow tugs at your arm and points across the room. “Ooh, girl, there’s your man,” she coos.
For a second, you think of Sam. Your heart does a little dance, but when you turn your gaze, it’s not who you’re thinking of. Instead, your darkly handsome and lean boyfriend, Rafe Adler, stands in the kitchen, chatting with a couple of his lacrosse teammates, bumping fists and red Solo cups. You blush when your friends tease you, embarrassed by their suggestive remarks.
“Go get ‘em, tiger,” your other friend jokes, bumping your hip towards Rafe in the kitchen. Before you can even refuse, they’re gone, off mingling with others in an instant. You sigh, secretly amused by their playfulness as you wiggle your way through dancing bodies and sloshing alcoholic drinks.
You’re about to call out to Rafe when you catch the familiar tuft of messy brown hair and easy eyes from the corner of your eyesight. Samuel Drake leans against the dimly lit wall a little to your right, barely visible behind some vaguely familiar band kids passing around a blunt.
Butterflies float happily in your stomach. Rafe forgotten, you turn towards Sam’s direction with a grin on your face. You make your way through the band kids, peering over tall heads before you spot him.
Him and Crystal.
You stop in your tracks just before the two of them notice you. Sam has his hand on her waist and she is close, very close, to him that her blonde hair is pressed against his jawline.
Crystal was only one of the many pretty girls Sam has been on and off with in the past. She was one of the recurring ones, the ones that you saw Sam kiss goodbye on his motorcycle, saw Sam argue with, saw Sam make up with, saw Sam bring back home in the dead of the night. Crystal was his problematic favorite and your problematic problem.
You feel a sharp plummet in your stomach. You want to unsee them together, but you can’t. So you retreat quietly, disappearing from their line of sight.
As you turn to weave through the band kids again, your mood makes a significant turn for the worse. You feel left out and ignored. Sam invited you here tonight, for what? He looked happy with Crystal. Seeing them together served as a reminder that he saw you, vulnerable and dressed in nothing but moonlight, but still felt nothing for you.
You are almost frustrated to the point of tears. Blinking your eyes furiously, you push your way to the kitchen where Rafe is and wave him down. He takes notice of you quickly, and you are thankful for the distraction.
“Y/N,” Your boyfriend calls, reaching out to wrap an arm around your shoulder. “Hey stranger,” he smiles easily, handing you his cup in hand.
You take a swig at the drink and peck his cheek. You know it’s awful. You’re playing Rafe, keeping him around so that you won’t feel lonely. What you have with him is nothing like what you have with Sam; the chemistry isn’t as natural. But you’re tired of waiting for someone who doesn’t love you the way you love them. You’ve been playing this game of chase for too long… maybe it was time to put it in the past.
-
It shouldn’t have mattered, should’ve it?
Y/N was dating Rafe, and he was dating Crystal.
No, “dating” wasn’t the right term for it– Samuel was talking to Crystal. They weren’t official or anything like that; just a boy and a girl looking for something to keep themselves occupied with in the meantime.
Why was he so annoyed?
He had to admit. He wasn’t expecting Crystal to be at the party, let alone get distracted by her presence and easy conversation. What he really wanted was to get a chance to spend his final high school nights with, Y/N, the girl of his dreams, and then take her home on his motorcycle, where he’d get the chance to tell her how he really felt.
But it was harder than it sounded.
Occasionally, he would look around while Crystal was talking, casually searching the perimeter for Y/N. She was nowhere in sight… oh. There she was.
Y/N was in the kitchen, drinking whatever cheap liquor Nadine had lining the cluttered countertops. Rafe was there too, knocking back shots. Samuel noticed that she was drinking heavily, laughing with her boyfriend inaudibly over the pounding music.
She was never like this.
Samuel knew that Y/N wasn’t the best at holding down her alcohol. Two or three shots, tops. But at the alarming rate she was going at… things were not going to end well.
He was getting worried, anxious. What was she doing? She usually knew her limits… she was always the sensible one between the two of them.
“Hey, Sam.”
Samuel turned to look at Crystal who now stood further away from him. Her small arms were crossed and her languid body faced his, but her blue eyes were elsewhere. He followed her line of sight, and saw that she too was looking at Y/N in the kitchen.
“You have feelings for her, don’t you?”
Her tone wasn’t accusatory, nor was it angry.
Samuel didn’t know what to say. He had never said it out loud before.
“It’s really not that hard, you know. To tell her.”
Samuel laughed dryly at this. He didn’t mean for it to sound so scornful, but it did. “What? I don’t know what--”
She shook her head at him apathetically. “Stop. Just stop it.”
He looked at her. Really looked at her. Crystal was a girl that he had spent a lot of time with only because the girl he really wanted wasn’t for him to call his. Now, looking at her, he realized that she not only was she attractive; she was observant, keen, and probably better off without him.
She only stared back, and the two of them stood there, looking at each other with mutual dispassion.
“You need to stop lying to yourself, Sam. It doesn’t help anybody.”
She was first to walk away, and Samuel knew that she wouldn’t be coming back. And he was thankful for that in a bittersweet way.
-
“SHIT, THE COPS!”
“EVERYONE, GET OUT!”
You’re not exactly sure what that means.
Oh, wait– something bad. You should maybe leave, like now.
Rafe is gone. You don’t know where he went; it’s like he disappeared into thin air. Your friends are also nowhere in sight, and all you can see are people scrambling, jumping, and running everywhere.
It’s hard for you to focus; everything around you is disoriented and your vision spins every once in a while. You try to get up, but your knees give out and you end up stumbling against the kitchen counter. You giggle, tipsy from those shots you and Rafe did together just a second ago.
A tall, familiar body approaches you. “Y/N! We gotta go!”
Oh.
Him.
Sam Drake. That stupid boy next door that gave your heart way too much grief. You want to be done with him and his pretty face and mild smolder. He’s looking at you now with frantic, annoying puppy eyes. Why did he come back for you? Where is Rafe?
“I don’t wanna,” you try to say, but your voice comes out in a tiny whisper.
“Nope, not an option,” he says as he wraps an arm around your abdomen and hoists you up. He mutters something under his breath that you can’t catch as he leads you out of the house. The two of you are outside on the front lawn when you hear the sirens and see the illuminated red and blue flashing.
“Damn it,” Sam curses under his breath, his eyes frantically searching around. “C’mon, this way.”
Lacking any serious concern, you hobble after Sam with your hand in his towards the back end of the street, where his red and silver motorcycle parks under a low shade of tree branches. You notice its ruggedness and classic build, and you take note of the familiar characteristics of its proud owner.
Sam swiftly hops onto his motorcycle. He snaps back the kickstand with his heel and flicks on the headlight. He gives you a sideways glance and jabs his thumb at the small space behind him. “Get on and hold tight, you hear me?”
You nod sleepily. Slowly climbing on behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek to his back, happy to be so close to him. He smells like a fresh shower and cloudy engine smoke.
Muffled shadows of running people scatter all around in flashing red and blue. The motorcycle jerks forward with a sputter, and then the two of you shoot off, the sound of whining sirens gradually dissipating into the dark. You gasp, taken aback by the hurtling momentum. Your surroundings race by at hyper-speed, but your eyes can only process things one at a time. Everything around you is a blur of color; the green traffic lights, the glowing red shop signs, the flickering yellow of the streetlamps. Your eyes start to roll to the back of your head.
“Everything okay back there?” Sam shouts to the air, turning his head slightly to look at you. You blink your eyes, trying to keep them open. He’s the one thing you can see clearly; his hair is tousled by the wind, his freckles are pinkish-red from the cool air, and his hazel eyes are fiery and alive. A neon fusion of color frames his face, reminiscent of a static VHS glitch.
You try to tighten your grip on him, but your head dizzies. Your muscles don’t comply and your arms start to slip from his waist.
“Hey, hey!” One of Sam’s hands catches your wrists, holding them in place. “You keep your arms around me, a’right?”
“Mkay,” you hiccup and your forehead knocks against his shoulder blade.
“Jesus, Y/N. You’re giving me a heart attack.”
“Sam, I wanna go home.”
You vaguely feel a gentle squeeze of his hands on yours, a silent physical “okay”. Sam kicks up the speed, and then the two of you dart off again, weaving between dark cars on the streets, leaving behind a trail of rubber and smoke and sleepy laughter.
-
He felt alive.
His motorcycle reverberated violently underneath him, hungry for speed. Faster. He needed to go faster.
Samuel shifted the motorcycle up a gear, giving him less resistance and more traction. He accelerated noisily around the corner and through empty lanes, his heart pounding furiously at every drunk giggle that erupted from Y/N’s lips.
God, he felt so good.
The air lashed at his face, whipping his hair furiously against his forehead and neck. He couldn’t help it; a smile crept up his face, soon followed by a loud whoop of exhilaration. Y/N laughed even harder at this, and Samuel did it again, basking in the thrill of the night and her voice.  
The arms around his stomach tightened.
“Wait, waitwaitSamwait–“
Samuel instantly gripped the brakes, screeching his motorcycle. “What? What??”
“I’mgonnathrowup–“
“Son of a–!” He tried his best to pull over quickly, and Y/N hopped from of the backseat before he could come to a full stop. She hurried to the nearest bush at the edge of the streetlight and immediately started to heave, coughing up her night’s inventory of alcohol.
Samuel followed, catching her hair just in the nick of time. He pulled it away from her face, rubbing a palm against her hunched back patiently.
When she was finally done, he helped her up by the crook of her elbow and kept a hand at the dip of her waist to steady her. “You good?”
She nodded, blinking her dark eyes. “Oh man. Do I regret,” she groaned.
Samuel exhaled heavily, a fuddled wave of aggravation and worry washing over him. Without thinking, he said disdainfully, “do you now?”
She gave him a look; he couldn’t tell if it was confusion or annoyance.
“Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?”
Sam was taken aback by the tone of her voice; was she angry? He raked a hand through his hair. “You know you can’t hold your drinks, but you go and knock back like, fifty shots.”
Wrong move. Her eyebrows pulled even closer, and she pushed out of his arms. “It’s a party, Sam. I can do whatever I want.”
He knew that arguing back was just going to make her even more irritated, but he knew she was wrong– or he thought he knew she was wrong– and that was starting to make him mad too. “You’re never like this. Did Rafe make you do them or somethin’?”
“No! Rafe’s not like that. He’s my boyfriend.”
“A pretty shit one.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothin’. Forget it.”
She shifted from one leg to the other impatiently. “No, Sam. I hate it when you do that. Just say it.” she pressed angrily.
There was a thin line between the two of them, and he was very close to crossing it. He contemplated whether or not he wanted to. “You’re being blindsided, Y/N.” He warned.
She scoffed, dismissing him. “There you go again.”
Suddenly, he said, “Then tell me why he just left you in the kitchen when the cops came, huh?”
He had struck a nerve. Y/N gave a short huff of realization and her shoulders tensed harshly. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t know that.”
He waved a hand frantically in the air and let out a humorless laugh. “Seriously? Y/N, I saw him! That prick cares about nobody but himself.”
Something simmered behind her eyes, and instantly, Samuel regretted his words.
Shit, shit--
She raised a shaky finger at him. “Don’t.”
She was hurt now and he couldn’t put his emotions into words in fear of giving himself away. It was as if every time he tried, it only escalated into something offensive. It frustrated and angered him even further.
He closed his eyes and sighed, thinking of how to diffuse his mess. “I’m just… worried about you.”
She went quiet for a bit, and it troubled him.
“Well, I’m fine. I’m just trying to have fun, okay?”
He looked away from her, over her shoulder. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but he had actually pulled over near his workplace: the small boat dock at the edge of town. They stood at the larger part of the harbor where the metal railing separated the city from the sea.
Crystal’s words hissed in his ear. You need to stop lying to yourself, Sam.
Y/N said nothing further, walking a little ways from him along the wooden floorboards of the dock. On she went, a pretty figure framed in starlight against the dark ocean.
It doesn’t help anybody.
His feelings were getting out of hand and he was running out of time… but he was afraid. He didn’t want to lose what he had with her already; what more did he want? Y/N was there whenever he needed her, to catch him when he was on the brink of danger, to smile and to laugh at his less-than-funny jokes. This should be enough, he told himself. Stop being greedy.
But Samuel Drake… he couldn’t help that he wanted more than what he had. That was just in his nature; “satisfaction” was a loose term in his range of vocabulary.
He had to let her know. Somehow.
He sucked in his breath. “Did you do it on purpose?”
She stopped walking and turned around, standing about a meter or two away with her head tilted slightly. “Do what on purpose?”
Uh, definitely not how he wanted to start. Oh well. It was too late now.
He swallowed his pride and went for it. “That night, at the window. You know what I’m talking about.”
She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say anything. What was there to say?
He didn’t press her. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to tell her; he was terrible with words. They just never came out the way he felt in his heart. He didn’t know where he was going with this… maybe he just wanted hear her say that she knew and that it wouldn’t work out and then they could move on with their lives. Just like that. Simple.
He was about to tell her to forget it, to pretend like it never happened, but then he saw her nod once, curtly, hiding secretly behind her wind-tossed mane.
He was awestruck.
She rocked on the heels of her feet. “It kinda just… happened. I saw you, and I just…” she trailed off, biting a nail as she avoided his stare. The distance between them felt foreign, vast.
Samuel cleared his throat. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I mean, I know it was wrong.” She gave him a puzzled look, and then he caught himself. “Wait, no– like, what I did was wrong. Not you,” he stuttered, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. He felt his face burning.
She giggled at this, brushing back the wisps of hair from her forehead.
Samuel grimaced, but her smile was contagious. “Y’know, I can just pretend like I didn’t see anything.”
She looked at him, and again, he couldn’t read her expression. She looked perplexed, unsure… contemplative?
She took a step forward.
“You don’t… you don’t have to.”
-
Damn him, that Samuel Drake. He knew how to press your buttons and piss you off, even if he didn’t mean to. But this… this caught you off-guard. He was being brash, impulsive-- curious. He had asked you about that night two weeks ago, openly, giving you no space to dodge and flee.
What would happen if you told the truth?
“You don’t… you don’t have to.” You murmur, releasing your words cautiously into the air.
Did he hear you? Did you say it loud enough, or did it get lost in the faint crashing of waves underneath you two?
No– he definitely heard you. You watch his eyes widen and his head jerk back in surprise. Was he appalled? Uncomfortable?
Oh well. Too late now.
You suck in your breath. “I mean, if you don’t want to. Do you… do you want to forget?”
Ugh okay. That came out really weird. You’re about to tell him to forget it, nevermind, you meant to say something else–
His voice is barely a whisper. “Are you kidding?”
You frown. “No.”
You watch Samuel Drake, the confident and boisterous and handsome Samuel Drake, as he presses his hand against his forehead and ducks his gaze away from yours.
“I haven’t been able to get you outta my head for the past two weeks.”
…what?
Oh no, he was repulsed. You stammer, “I-I… jeez, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it made you feel that uncomfortable–”
“What? No, no– that’s not what I meant,” he drops his hand and takes a step towards you.
Then what…
“Listen. Y/N.”
You watch as he grabs a fistful of his dark hair– you know what that means. He’s at a loss for words; he wants to say something badly, but he just doesn’t know how.
So you wait, focusing on the rhythmic thumping in your chest. You don’t push him; you know Sam Drake and his habits and his tendencies. You know that he’s not the serious one in your guys’ dynamic. This is different for him– this is difficult for him– and so you let him work it out at his own pace.
You notice the precise moment when he does. His eyes flick up, realigning with yours, and then his throat dips as he swallows hard.
“I… I might have a thing for you. Kinda.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
You pause briefly to consider your words.
“That’s funny. Because me too.”
“…Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
A little sound of disbelief escapes your lips. He catches it, and returns it to you as a louder chuckle. You both are dumbstruck, jittery, and at a loss as to what to do or say. This is actually happening.
“Wait, wait-- what about Rafe?” He suddenly asks, pointing a finger at you.
You cross your arms. “That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“Crystal?”
He drops his hand. “Okay.”
And then he’s laughing. And you start laughing at his laughing, because his laugh is just that infectious. He reaches out to you with outstretched hands and you walk over dizzily, fitting snug right between his arms. He’s warm and you can hear his heart beating powerfully underneath his gray Henley. His chin rests on the top of your head, and you know, deep inside of your heart, that this is where you belong.
-
Samuel told her.
It wasn’t super dramatic or sweet and a part of him regretted telling her so plainly, but he did it.
And the best part was, she felt the same way.
He couldn’t believe it. It took him years to finally tell her, and now he regretted not doing it sooner. He wanted to explode; he had never felt so raw and alive. It was as if a burden heavy as lead lifted from his shoulders and was replaced by a flitting, floating, airy happiness that sent him up and up and up.
“Since when though?” He asked the top of her head.
She tilted her chin up, resting it against his collarbone to look at him. A cheeky grin danced on her lips. “Uhh, yesterday.”
“Very funny.”
“You’re asking a lot of questions.”
“Please tell me?” He gave her that look, the one where he gazed at her broodingly through his eyelashes and up-turned eyebrows. He used it often to combat her witty and much too smart quips.
It worked on her like a charm and she said, “Eighth grade.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he warned her.
She glowered. “I’m being serious!” She poked a finger at his side, and he jerked into her, causing her to give him a winning smirk. “And you?”
“Don’t remember,” he mumbled, distracted by how soft her hair was against his neck.
“Are you sure? Like, really sure?” She mumbled back.
He snapped a finger, feigning recollection. “Sophomore year. When you almost fell outta your window climbing into mine. You were tryin’ to hide from your mom when she found your report card you threw behind that old bookshelf.”
“Wow, okay. Can you be a little more specific?”
He grinned at this. “You knocked over my entire Indiana Jones figure collection climbin’ in and that’s how I knew you were the one.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“I know.”
She stuck her tongue out at him before burying her face in his chest. She sighed a long, blissful sigh, and Samuel knew exactly what she felt in that very moment.
“You know, I’m gonna miss you in college.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re supposed to say ‘me too’, Sam.”
“Me too, Sam.”
She poked another finger at his side, and he scowled, squeezing her cheeks between his free thumb and forefinger like he did whenever she was playing around too much. “Hey watch it, neighbor, that hurts.”
“Sorry, neighbor.”
Then, gradually, she got on her tip-toes and looked right at him, their noses touching, and suddenly, he was all too aware of her. Something in her eyes changed; they were all at once curious and unfocused. He soon realized that she wasn’t looking at him anymore– she was looking at his bottom lip. He watched as she bit her own.
They stayed like that for some time, until it became unbearable. Neither of them wanted to make the first move… it was exhilarating just as it was scary.
“Do something Samuel Drake,” she whispered to him.
Her words were like an activation code; a euphoric green “GO” sign lit up his brain upstairs. So then, slowly, he brought his lips to hers, his fingertips tenderly resting just against her jaw. It lasted only for a fleeting second. Her eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a butterfly, and Samuel wished that he could capture the moment and keep it safe in a glass bottle for him to relive again and again.
No other person made him this gushy and weak in the knees. She was a magician of sorts and he was her favorite trick. He would do anything for the girl standing here in front of him, and now, he could do it confidently.
“Can you do that again?” She smiled against his lips.
“Yeah, I’ll do that again.”
And Samuel kissed her once more under the moon’s watch and the ocean’s breath, and nothing else in the world mattered more. They both knew that in that moment, there was no other person they would’ve rather been with, and this was more precious than they could’ve ever imagined. He no longer felt afraid knowing that she was there for him to call his own, and she no longer felt overshadowed by the boy who had always thought she was unattainable.
It was a match made by the stars, and they watched protectively overhead, safeguarding the two under the youthful evening blanket.
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