like again reader is like 21 or 22 in this and sam is 17 im at school lmfao
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You laugh slightly as Sam panics over text. Earlier that day, when she came over and you borrowed her phone, you'd messed with her autocorrect and made it so whenever she typed the word love, it autocorrected to hate, and vice versa.
After a few more panicked texts, she went silent. You figured she'd probably given up and went to sleep, but a couple minutes later, just as you're about to go to sleep after scrolling TikTok for a while, you hear asphalt crunching beneath tyres.
You look out your window to see Sam on her motorcycle. You stared in disbelief as she took her helmet off. She was still in her pyjamas — a pair of pyjama pants and a tight tank — and all she had on were Crocs.
As she entered the building, you scrambled to get into bed and pretend to be asleep.
You heard her outside your apartment, scrambling to get in with the spare key she has.
You quickly shut your eyes as the door slammed shut and her footsteps echoed through your flat.
Your bedroom door creaked open, and you half-opened your eyes to see her standing at the threshold.
She walked over to you, tapping your shoulder.
You 'woke up' and blinked up at her. "Sam? What are you doing here?"
She apologises immediately, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about — about the texts, I-I swear I meant love, my phone's just acting weird, I —"
You suppress a smirk and decide to torment her a little further. To be fair, she'd pranked you like this last week, so it wasn't like this was just for fun. Okay, yes, it was just for fun, but it was also for payback.
You knit your brows together before saying, "'Kay," and turning your back to her.
You hear Sam gasp softly. Her apology turns into desperate begging, but you continue to feign disinterest.
"Love," she says, pouting a bit, her voice laced with desperation, "please don't be mad. I didn't mean any of it. I'll fix my phone, I promise."
Your shoulders shake slightly with suppressed laughter, and you decide it's time to reveal the prank. Still with your back turned, you say in a serious tone, "Sam, I think we need to talk about this. I can't just ignore those messages."
She lets out a defeated sigh, "Okay, okay, I'll do anything to make it right. Just tell me what to do."
You don't speak, and just when she's on the verge of a meltdown, you turn around.
You see her eyes soften with relief as you stare into them. "Please, I didn't mean any of it. I meant I love you, I swear."
You raise your eyebrows. "How can I be sure?"
She pulls her phone out and hands it to you. You see a crack in the screen that wasn't there earlier and almost laugh as you realise she most likely threw it at her wall and woke Cat up.
"T-Type in 'love', it autocorrects to 'hate', and when I type in 'hate', it autocorrects to 'love'. I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't type those things."
"You're lying to me," you say, sitting up. Your eyes well with tears. Thank God you can cry on command.
"No! No, no, no, I-I'm not, I swear," she says quickly, panic lacing her tone. "T-Type it in, and if it doesn't do the autocorrect thing, I-I'll, um, I'll do whatever you want! Just to make it up to you. Please, please, forgive me, I —"
You decide to cave as her eyes actually well with tears of panic and despair.
You put her phone on your nightstand and carefully pull her down into your arms. She sits on your lap and relaxes into your embrace. Your heart breaks as you hear her sobbing into your shoulder.
You rub her back before softly whispering, "Gotcha," in her ear.
She pulls back and looks at you confusedly.
You smile at her and wipe her tears away from her cheeks. You cup her face in your hands and kiss her lips. "I was messing with you, baby girl. Wanted to see how far you'd go to make sure I wasn't mad at you."
Her lips slightly part into an O as she realises what you'd done. Her breathing slightly slows but she's still sniffling, and she looks at you with a mix confusion and amusement.
"Y-You're not mad at me?" she asks shakily.
You shake your head no.
"And you're not... y-you don't think I hate you?"
Again, you shake your head no.
"A-And it's not my fault?"
"No, baby, come here." You pull her into your arms once again. She breathes in shakily.
"Am I... forgiven?"
"You never weren't forgiven, baby girl. It was just a prank," you tell her.
She hesitates.
"Come on," you whisper.
You pull her down and lay her down beside you. You tangle your legs with hers and she lays her head on your arm. You wrap your arms around her and explain what you did with her phone.
She listens intently, and when you finish, she pulls back slightly, a mixture of mild annoyance and amusement on her features. "You're telling me I cried because of a prank?"
You nod. "I'm sorry, baby."
She sighs, but a small smile creeps onto her lips. "I forgive you."
