#idk man this took an hour is it really simple?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

im-sleepdeprived · 10 days

Note

Can you write something about co-workers to friends to lovers?

fix you up

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: i won’t lie to y’all idk how i feel abt this one. its cute dgmw but i hope you guys like it !!! ive had this request for an EMBARRASSINGLY long time, anon if you’re upset, i totally understand

warnings: mentions of injuries, burns, rude customers, bandaging some wounds n stuff, fluff and pining !!! (disclaimer: I’ve never been a barista so forgive me if this is a lil off)

masterlist, requests are open !!

Working in a rustic-vintage-corner-campus-cafe was definitely not how you saw your college years going. Your teen self would’ve killed to work at a place like this but when you grew up, you realized just how different the workload is between a high school student and a uni one such as yourself.

You weren’t complaining of course. The pay was adequate, your manager was a simple old lady who never had much to say other than making sure all the equipment was clean, you got along with your coworkers pretty well for the most part and the customers were tolerable.

But every once in a while, you’d get an entitled shithead who seemed to make it their life’s mission to ruin someone else’s day. And the problem with working a social job such as you did, is that you were an easy target.

It started off as a fairly simple day, you clocked in and put on your apron ready to start your shift for the day. You preferred late morning shifts, leaving afternoons for classes (and the rouge 8am lecture every now and then) and nights for going out or studying.

“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you're here,” Your co-worker, Vanessa, exclaimed.

Vanessa was a few years older than you. She actually wasn’t a student, she’d given college a try and it wasn’t her thing. Apparently, all it did was “try to undermine unstoppable greatness.” She was chatty, but you actually liked that about her. She could keep up a conversation with a statue. When you first started off here she’d been the one to show you the ropes and ever since then, you’d had a specific bond with her that you couldn’t really put a name to.

You gave her a small smile, “Yeah well, I do prefer to show up when promised. Especially when my paycheck depends on it,” you let out a small laugh.

“Yes! See, that's what I love about you,” she made a disgusted face, “Unlike Peter. Honestly, I don't understand how he hasn’t been fired yet! He shows up at least half an hour late to every shift yet Miss Hannigan still keeps him around.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, raising your hands a little in defense, “I didn't mean it as a jab at Peter, I swear.”

She tossed a curled blonde lock of hair over her shoulders while waving her other hand in dismissal, “Honey, don’t worry about it. I know you would never, you’re far too sweet for that. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did, you know, having to work more than half your shift alone? I swear if Bernard did that to me,” she made a big show of gesturing to herself, "I would not deal with it.”

While what she was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, it didn’t feel right talking about Peter like that. Sure, he was late most of the time, leaving you to do most of the work while you waited for him to show up (somehow when he started working you two got the same shift together and it’s just been that way ever since) and while you, also, normally wouldn’t put up with this, there was something different about Peter. You never felt like he was taking advantage of you, and purposefully made you pick up extra slack. It was quite the opposite actually, he always apologized profusely and never slacked when he was on the clock. He always seemed so rushed and out of breath, you were pretty sure the poor boy just needed to learn how to manage time better. Plus, he always took it upon himself to unpack the orders because of all the heavy lifting required (you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, with all the sweaters he wore, but man was he ripped.)

“He’s actually really sweet.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re so keen on defending Peter. You two barely spoke, outside of work of course, and you don’t know much about him. But something inside you didn’t like anyone assuming anything bad about him.

“Yea, well, he’d be a ton sweeter if he clocked in on time,” she laughed as she untied her apron, getting ready to leave. You faked a laugh as well, not wanting the conversation to progress any further.

“Alrighty, well,” she heaved a breath, “I'm off, have a good rest of your day Y/N.”

You smiled once again and sent a wave her way before settling down in front of the register. It was slow today, not many people in the shop. A fellow student you only recognized from work sat in a corner booth with their headphones locked in and was working on what seemed to be some kind of essay.

There was an older woman, however, looking incredibly irritated at the table closest to you. You’d never seen her before but that wasn’t too strange. It was a near-campus cafe, after all, lots of people passing through. She looked to be typing on her phone until, suddenly, she shut it off and made direct eye contact with you.

If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead behind the counter, which wouldn’t be all that ideal considering you couldn’t remember the last time anyone mopped that side of the store.

She stood up and walked towards you and you already dreaded the conversation to come.

“I have an order,” she spit out, as if she were disgusted to even be talking to you at the moment.

No greeting or anything, wow. Someone wasn’t raised right.

Nonetheless, you put on your well-rehearsed customer service smile and gave in. “Sure, I’d be happy to help with that. Can you just give me the order?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to, I called in and placed it and it should be ready by now. I'm going to be late!”

You froze for a moment, not quite sure what to do, “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I just got here and I haven’t heard anything,” you glance at the little whiteboard kept on the counter for these exact situations only to find it empty, “and I don’t see anything here about a phone-placed order. Are you sure you have the right store?”

Her face was so red and steam was practically blowing out of her ears, “Of course, I have the right store! Do you think I'm stupid or something?”

“No! Of course not, I'm so sorry,” you start to blabber off, not wanting to make her any angrier than she already was, “I’ll get things ready for you right away ma’am.”

You turned around and tried to make yourself not freak out as badly as you wanted to. It was so humiliating getting yelled at like this in public! And yeah, maybe if you had such a problem with unpleasant interactions like this, you shouldn't have taken a social job such as this one, but honestly, you thought people would have enough manners not to act up like this. Apparently not.

It slipped your mind for a moment because of how scrambled you got when the lady flipped her lid, but Vanessa has been known to do this, forget to write down orders and leave you to fend for yourself (quite literally since your coworker was never really around) and you’re pretty sure that’s what happened here. Other customers were usually more understanding than this woman bordering on Kathy-Bates-movie-character-insanity over a drink order.

You reached into your back pocket, deciding you’d try to send her a hurried text about any phone calls she might remember. That just seemed to anger your customer more.

“Excuse me?! I'm sitting here waiting for my order and you're too busy chatting away on your phone?”

You lose yourself for a moment and you can’t feel your face anymore.

“I am so sorry ma’am,” you repeat, which seems to be your mantra since you started working today, “I was just checking to see if-,”

“I don't care what you were checking, or what you need to see! Give me what I paid for,” her hand started smacking against the counter loud enough for the only other person in the store to look up, broken from their reverie. They merely shot you an apologetic look before getting back to their work, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“You have terrible customer service, honestly. I come here every Tuesday with my book club, but never again. If I don’t get exactly what I asked for in the next five minutes, I'm calling your boss and not leaving until I'm sure you’re fired.”

You shake your head, “There’s no need to do that ma’am, I'll get everything ready for you.”

You turned around once again, this time, heading towards the cappuccino machine. You’re not sure why you said that considering you have no clue what ‘everything’ is that has to get ready.

In all honesty, there’s a low chance that a suburban-white-soccer-mom type would have any real effect on your employment. Miss Hannigan would surely not fire you just because some order forgot to be written down and some customer got pissed. Right?

But you really didn’t want to find out.

So, you started up the machine and turned to grab a cup. Today, apparently, was just doomed from the start. As you turned to grab one of the cups placed on the shelf over the machine, your hand hit the button that turned on the steam wand. Which was aimed directly at your other hand.

You bit down the yelp that threatened to escape and jumped back, the back of your hand now searing with pain. Instinctively, your other hand came to cup your injured one, which only made it worse. You fought back tears as you moved to turn the steam back off.

Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to try to get your mind working again. “Hello?!” Of course. You turned your head and gave her the fakest smile you’ve ever mustered in your whole life. “One minute ma’am.”

You could hear her going off about how she doesn’t have a minute to spare, but you ignored her, trying to think of what the hell you could give her to just get her out of your face. You’d have to guess her order since I wasn’t actually taken. You’d started playing a game with yourself since you worked here, guessing people's drink orders, and you’d say you’ve gotten pretty good.

You peeked a look back at her. You’d had customers around her age come in before and order, for the most part, the same thing. A plain cappuccino. Seemed like a safe bet.

Swallowing down the pain as best you could, you approached the machine again. This time, taking out the portafilter. It must’ve not been put in correctly because it clattered to the ground, coffee grinds falling around the floor.

You wanted to cry. Your hand hurt like hell, there was a new mess to deal with, and that lady hadn’t stopped complaining since you stepped in.

Frozen, you began to panic a little, breaths coming out sporadically. You’d leave the sweeping for later, but you had to clean the filter so you could use it because it was the only one. And the slightest brush of air made your hand burn even more. You had no clue how to go about this. Maybe if you-

Like an angel, Peter rushed in through the side door. Tying his apron around his waist, he looked towards you. Your hand flew up to your mouth at his perfect timing and you saw his expression grow more concerned.

He rushed towards you. “What happened?” And for a second, you forget everything that was stressing you out just a few moments before. He grabbed your hand so gently, you forgot every ounce of pain.

“I cannot believe this!” She wasn’t giving up and you shut your eyes in frustration, turning to reply to her again. But before you can open your mouth, Peter steps in. “Hold on, can’t you clearly see she’s hurt?”

She scoffed and crossed her arms, “That’s her fault. If she knew how to do her job, it wouldn’t have happened.”

You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His expression hardened and his mouth opened to shoot something back at her, but this time, you cut him off. You placed your non-injured hand on his shoulder and gave him a look.

He stared at you for a few seconds before finally giving in, blowing out some air in a frustrated huff. “Go wait for me inside,” he told you, nodding his head toward the employees-only backroom.

“What?” You asked confused. You didn’t wanna leave him alone.

“You’re not working right now, there’s no way I’m letting you. I’ll deal with her. Go, I’ll be right there,” he said, shoving you away gently.

Once you heard that he’d be following you, you were more willing. You walked through the door and took a seat at the table usually used for meal breaks. The ‘break room’ was a small room positioned in the back of the store. You can’t remember what this place used to be (a diner maybe?) but this specific room was used as an office, but Miss Hannigan claimed she had no use for an office so it was used for employee breaks.

Every ounce of you was grateful for Peter’s Superman moment back there. He came in today earlier than usual and he’d totally saved your ass. You were going to make sure to tell him.

You weren’t waiting long before the door opened again and Peter walked in, holding a backpack you hadn’t seen on him before. In his other hand, he held a drink. He placed the drink on the table before he grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it close to yours, and you turned your body to face him.

He picked up your hand again, just as gently as before. “Alright,” he let out a breath of relief, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but, it’s still gonna take a while to heal. Wait,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag and taking supplies out while you just stared at him.

“I thought you majored in biochemistry.” You blurted out. Your face heated up a little when he looked at you curiously.

“I- I saw your textbooks once when you left your bag open. And I’ve seen you around campus, near the science-y buildings…and stuff.” You shrugged and he chuckled.

“I do,” he nodded, “any medical stuff is self-taught. I get into a lot of…accidents.”

“Oh.” You nodded at him. What kind of accidents would he get into? You’d never seen him hurt, but what did you know.

“I take it you don’t major in anything science-y,” he said, grinning at you.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t. But I have a chemistry class I have to take for credit. Which makes no sense because chemistry has nothing to do with what I want to learn.”

He laughed and set his bag back down, everything he needed was now laid out on the table. “Okay,” he picked up a white tube with red lettering on it. “This is gonna help with pain and scarring. I’m going to spread some of this, then wrap it up for you.” You looked at the table and saw he’d also taken out some white gauze. What kind of ‘accidents’ did he get into?

You nodded, at a complete loss for words. You had no idea Peter knew so much about injuries and you were so thankful he was helping you out. You didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t close either.

He applied a small amount to the back of your hand, asking you constantly if you were okay as he rubbed it on softly. Honestly, even if it did hurt, you wouldn’t have the heart to tell him.

He finished up with the cream and moved onto the gauze, expertly wrapping it up to lightly cover your wound. When he was finished with that, he carefully tied it off, making sure not to tie it too tight.

“There,” he leaned back and smiled at you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “All fixed up.”

“Thank you, Peter, really.” You reluctantly pulled your hand back into your lap, missing the warmth of his fingers wrapped around it.

“You don’t need to thank me Y/N, it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad I got here earlier than usual.”

You nodded and looked down. “Well thanks anyway, you saved my ass back there. Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me today but I kept fucking everything up.”

“Hey,” he said softly, making you look up and meet his gaze. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Okay? You made a few mistakes, but that's not your fault. She shouldn’t have been treating you like that, especially when you’d hurt yourself.” He looked away and scoffed as he remembered the terrible customer that had ruined your morning. You would’ve felt extremely touched by his care if it weren’t for his next words.

“All that for a plain fucking cappuccino.” He mumbled.

“A plain cappuccino? Really?” You asked excitedly, forgetting about everything, and grinning at him wildly.

“Um, yeah…why?” He asked you, confusion was written all over his face, but he couldn’t help his own smile slightly growing when he noticed your enthusiasm.

“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly, smile never fading, “I just…well, I play this game with myself where I guess people's drink orders. And I think I’m getting pretty good because that’s exactly what I was going to make her before you walked in.”

He laughed out loud and you joined in. “What’s my order?” He asked.

You paused for a moment. “A caramel macchiato with extra caramel.”

He looked at you for a bit, “Close,” he admitted. “It used to be.”

“So are you gonna tell me what it is now?”

Shaking his head, he leaned over the table and dragged the drink he’d brought in earlier in front of you. “Here,” he changed the subject, “I made you this.”

You’d completely forgotten about it, and when you took a closer look, you realized it was your coffee order.

Your mouth fell open, “How’d you know?”

He just shrugged, smiling slightly. He knew it was your favorite, but the confirmation was still nice. “I've seen you make it for yourself. Educated guess.”

“Oh my god,” you said, voice soft. It was a simple thing really, you had one most days at the end of your shift. But the fact that he’d noticed… It just meant a lot. “Thank you so much, Peter.”

He just waved you off, his smile growing when he noticed your reaction to the drink. He couldn’t believe he got a chance to speak to you. Truly speak to you. He was always too awkward or embarrassed or trying to avoid embarrassment. But now, while he didn’t like the circumstances that led you both here, he was actually talking to you. And it was nice.

“So,” he started, not wanting this to end just yet, “you said you’ve got a chemistry class?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, picking up your drink and taking a sip. “The one with Professor Hall. I actually have a class after this shift. I totally suck though, and he hates me. I just don’t get it, and he doesn’t explain it well!”

Peter nodded, completely understanding what you meant. It was a tough subject to begin with, and he knew not everyone was as into science as he was, add onto that a teacher who doesn’t really teach, it’s a recipe for disaster.

“I actually had that class. Last year. I can help you, sometimes. If you’d like me to, that is!” He rushed out. Great, he thought, now I’m getting awkward.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? Do you mean that?”

“Of course. I think I’ve still got my notes too, if you want ‘em.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t saving your ass again.

“Oh my god Peter,” you placed your non-injured hand on his knee, not noticing the way his body stiffened and he gulped. “That would help so much. There’s a huge exam coming up, and it's a huge part of my grade so I have to pass. I started cramming earlier but—”

“I’ll help,” he reassured you, “I enjoy science anyway, so it’ll be fun for me.”

“Thank you,” you repeated. Staring at him so close, you realized you’d never noticed how handsome he was. Sure there were times you thought he was cute, from afar, but now…you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way one of his eyebrows was slightly curlier than the other, unwilling to sit straight. You couldn’t help but stare-

“Oh my god,” you repeated, except this time, you had remembered something. “If we’re both in here, who’s outside?”

“What? Oh, um,” he scratched the back of his neck, still reeling from having you so close to him. “Freddy’s out there?”

“Freddy?” You asked confused.

He nodded. “The guy writing on his laptop, he’s friends with my roommate, throws the craziest parties. He’s chill, I told him to keep an eye out if someone else walks in. But it’s been slow, so I think we’re good.”

“Oh, okay.” You said, standing up. “We should probably still go though.”

He stood up beside you, frowning. “I don’t think you should work with your hand hurt. I don’t want you accidentally making it worse.”

Your heart warmed at his concern. “That's really sweet Peter, but I’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened before, I never do stuff like that, even accidentally.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you just go home? I can take it for today.”

You shook your head quickly, “I’m not leaving. I have a class later and it would just be a waste of time going back and forth anyway.”

You walked towards the door, opened it, and exited before he had a chance to argue anymore. You stepped behind the counter while Peter rushed out behind you. You watched Freddy give him a thumbs up and Peter nodded at him before he followed right after you.

“Are you sure you should go to class today? I can walk you home so you can take the day off,” he offered, and he looked so genuine you almost accepted.

“Peter,” you laughed and he decided no matter what your response was, it wouldn’t matter because hearing you say his name like that was enough. “I’ll be fine, I didn’t break both my legs, it's just a small burn.”

He stared at you for a bit as you smiled at him, trying to get him to ease up. “Fine,” he gave in reluctantly. “But no going towards the cappuccino machine,” he waved a finger at you, “or the ovens. Or anything hot!”

“Fine,” you shot back, grinning wide and he couldn’t help but return it.

The rest of the morning had gone by easily and you thought maybe you didn’t have totally shit luck. Peter was way more fun than you ever thought he’d be and you wondered why you didn’t start talking to each other sooner.

It used to be silently working together but after those few moments in the break room, you guys were laughing your whole shift. He meant what he said, and he kept you away from anything that produced heat (which you told him was an insane boundary to set in a cafe) so you had extra time to make quips here and there.

You started playing your order-guessing game with him, teaching him certain traits that gave someone away:

“Side part, beanie, and a crossbody? Oh, he’s getting a tall, dark, americano for sure.”

“She’s getting tea. No coffee, just tea. Maybe with a little lemon wedge.”

And he started to get the hang of it.

“She looks like she drinks matchas right?” He said to you when a girl around your age walked in. He’d been right and you both laughed about it afterwards.

When your work shift ended, you were actually upset.

“I’ve got a class to get to,” you told him, lifting your bag onto your shoulder. You’d both cleaned up and gotten yourselves ready, now standing in front of the door. Something in you didn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying your time together far too much to end it so soon.

“Yeah…” he trailed off, you waited for him to continue but he hesitated.

“What is it?” You crossed your arms and smiled slightly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “I just…well, I was just wondering—if it's okay with you of course!” He rushed out, quickly bringing his hands up. “That I could walk you to class?”

You laughed, “I’d love that Pete, thank you.” You turned to open the door to let you both out but he quickly moved forward, holding it open for you and motioning for you to move forward.

Looking back at him, you smiled and noticed his cheeks were a little red. How had you never noticed how adorable he was?

The walk back to campus wasn’t long but you learned a lot. He told you where he went to high school, his friends he still kept in touch with, his Aunt May, some funny moments from parties he’d been forced to attend by his roommate, and you laughed together.

You told him about the book you were currently reading, your life back home and your family, and why you chose to go to this college. He went along with your jokes, which made it all the more better for you. “I mean if you think about it,” you'd said, “it is so much easier to romanticize your life when your school campus is as pretty as this one, and that’s real motivation!”

The conversation flowed naturally between you two and it felt like you’d been friends for ages. He dropped you off outside of your class building with the promise of picking you up afterward so you two could study together.

“So I’ll be back here in an hour right,” he asked.

“Right,” you smiled at him. “And thanks again Pete, for everything.” You held up your bandaged hand, shaking it a little before setting it back down.

He shook his head quickly, “Don’t thank me for that. Really.”

You stared at him with a warm expression. “Bye Peter,” you waved as you turned to walk into your class.

“Bye Y/N,” he returned. He watched you walk through the doors, shooting him one last smile before you disappeared from view, before blowing out a breath of air.

He’d finally gotten a chance to talk to the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and he got to walk her to class! And they were meeting up afterward. After working so close to you and never having the guts to initiate a conversation, he’d settled for just admiring you from afar. But after today, there was nothing that could keep him away.

You were not having a good day.

You’d just found out that your chemistry exam was being bumped up to two days from now. Even with the early studying you’d done before, there was no way you could catch up with everything that fast. You were so overwhelmed you had completely forgotten Peter was waiting for you outside.

You walked out, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and you practically jumped out of your skin when someone placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft yet full of concern. Peter. “It's just me. What happened?”

The second he saw you walk out, he could tell something was off. He could literally sense the anxiety rolling off of you in waves. He had waited for you to look up and stop when you saw him, but you were just about to walk past him before he stopped you. Now, you were looking at him with distress coating every feature on your face. Your brows were pinched, your lip red from biting it, and your eyes wide and distant like you couldn’t even see him and he was standing right in front of you. Something had gone wrong and he wanted nothing more than to fix it.

“What is it? What’s wrong? He asked frantically.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands flying up to the sides of your head and gripping your hair. You weren’t looking at him anymore, “Oh my god.”

“Ok Y/N,” he said nervously, “you’re starting to scare me.”

“Two days Peter!” You looked at him wildly. “Two days! I can’t go over everything in two days, is he fucking insane? I didn’t even know he could do something like that, I mean, can he do something like that? I feel like that shouldn’t be allowed it should—”

You cut yourself off and started pacing back and forth in front of him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna bomb this. And if I fail, it’ll bring my whole grade down! I can’t afford that I—”

“Hey,” he repeated, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder again. “I said I’m gonna help you, and I meant it. So we’re gonna get through this together, even if we have to stay up all night.”

You stared at him, trying to wonder what you’d done in your life to deserve such an angel.

You shook your head quickly, “I really appreciate that Peter, but I’m serious. There’s no way I can learn everything I need to know that fast.”

You tried to smile at him but it didn’t reach your eyes.

He grinned, his expression the total opposite of yours. “Well, you’ve clearly never studied with me, so don’t sound too sure yet.”

Another thing you’d come to realize was just how smart Peter was.

You really should’ve known when he told you he’d taken that advanced chemistry class a year ago. And passed.

Looking through his notes, you could see his attention to detail. He really wasn’t a slacker in the classroom because everything was clearly laid out here.

You’d spent that night going over everything and you’d actually started to feel hopeful about it. Peter was a way better teacher than Professor Hall, and it didn’t hurt that he was so cute. He was understanding with everything and was willing to go over any part for as long as it took for you to fully grasp it.

At the end of the night, he’d undone the wrappings around your hand, reapplied the cream for you, and wrapped it up again.

“It’s doing okay,” he reassured you. “Like I said, it’s gonna take a while, but if it starts hurting or anything, take some medicine. Then find me.”

You were sure you’d just melted into his hands at that moment.

The next day, you couldn’t wait to get through everything and see him again, even if you were going to be talking about chemistry.

You weren’t scheduled to work at the cafe today, so you’d only get to meet up after both of your classes.

Lectures were a blur, nothing really catching your attention and you spent most of the time with your phone tucked in your hand texting back and forth with Peter, barely concealing your laughter when he sent you memes.

It was like that all day, until, finally, you made your way over to his small apartment he shared with one of his friends.

its very quaint 🤌

(totally NOT what we say to make ourselves feel better about this shoebox)

He’d told you over text, making you laugh out loud as you made your way over there.

dw🫡 I was one of those kids who used to live in their play tents and hid in random corners and spaces

im totally ready for this

ok but be warned, we do not have a pet!!! they are not allowed per our lease!!! ignore the cat when you come in!!! tell no one!!!

what cat ??

good girl ;)

Your face flushed as you made your way up the steps to his door. You knocked three times and barely had to wait a second before Peter stood before you, holding the door open.

“Hi,” he said, smiling at you.

“Hi,” you grinned back. You heard a small ‘meow’ come from behind him and he quickly held up a finger to his lips. You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh as you nodded at him.

“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way to lead you through the door. You stepped in and kicked off your shoes before looking around. It was plain, but that was to be expected really.

There was a large poster hanging next to their TV, however, that caught your eye. “Big fan?” You asked him, shoving your thumb in the direction of the Star Wars poster.

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Kind of.”

“Oh. Well, I was just asking because I love those movies. My little brother used to watch them and I got really into it.”

“Oh. I mean—I don’t know what I was saying before I love them too.” He rushed out, making you giggle.

He stayed staring at you for a bit, his eyes rounding out and his mouth gaping a little bit.

You gave him a small smile, “Okay, well we should-” You let out a small yelp, hands flying to your mouth as you jumped back.

The living room was small. The only things occupying it were the TV mounted to the wall, and in front of it, was a sofa. And on the sofa, was an unconscious body that you hadn’t noticed until it let out a low groan. You really weren’t sure how you missed it, there wasn’t much else to look at, but they had just been so still.

Heart beating erratically, you turned towards Peter again, who was looking at you with all the amusement in the world written all over his face. “Was he always there,” you whispered, eyes wide.

He opened his arms, “Well, angel, I really don’t know. Did you see anyone come in?”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled. “He looks familiar…is that..”

“Freddy.” He finished for you. Right. The dude from the cafe.

“He crashes here sometimes.” He added.

You nodded. “Alright.”

“Shall we?” He opened a door beside him and looked at you.

“Right. Yeah, of course.” You walked past him and into his room. You stopped after you entered, taking a moment to look around. His room was simple, with just his bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser perched next to another door you assumed was his closet.

What really caught your attention, however, were the photos scattered all over the walls. The room was practically engulfed in Peter Parker’s memories, and you really liked it. Without thinking, you approached one wall, walking through them and taking each one in.

There were some with large groups of people, those looked like school trips. Most of the photos were of the same two people, and based on what he’d told you, you assumed those were his friends. Ned and MJ.

A lot of the photos contained an older woman, who looked stunning. That had to be his Aunt May. You were shocked by how many photos he had with the Tony Stark. He’d told you he had an internship at Stark Industries, but really, you sorta thought he just went on coffee runs all day.

And then, you saw a couple shots of Spider-Man. It wasn’t unusual, you knew a lot of people snapped photos of the masked hero when they spotted him around the city. What was unusual, was the quality of the photos. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen such clear photos of him, even on the news, as he was always swinging and in motion. In these, Peter seemed to have caught him at just the right time. You wondered how long it took him to capture the photos.

“Big fan?” You smirked over at him from your spot by one of the Spider-Man photos as you repeated your words from earlier.

Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, content with watching go over the details of his life. He felt a little naked, like he was bared out in front of you. But…it felt good too. He liked knowing you were learning new things about him, and curious to know more. It filled him with an anxious sort of giddiness.

“You first,” he said slyly.

Laughing, you said, “Well, I don’t see how anyone can hate on the guy. He literally runs around saving lives”

He laughed as he approached you, standing by your side. You’d be surprised. “True I guess.”

“We should get to studying,” you said, breezing past him, your hand brushing his bicep as you did. He sucked in a breath, his entire body feeling electrocuted after that one touch. He wondered how you seemed so normal, laying out your books and papers on the floor beside his bed.

This was gonna be a long night.

He cleared his throat and moved to sit across from you, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt.

After a few moments of him watching you get settled, you heard him start laughing. Looking up you asked, “What’s so funny?”

That only made him laugh harder. “Just thinking about how scared you got before. Did you really not see him?”

You felt your face go hot. “I didn’t! I had no clue he was there, and next thing I know he’s making lawn mower nosies!”

Peter was red in the face now. “The way you flew back,” he said between fits of laughter, “I thought you’d give yourself whiplash.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled at him, picking up one of your pens and throwing it at him. It bounced off without him even flinching.

You looked down, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with your papers.

“Okay I’m ready to be serious now,” he said. The laughter was gone but amusement twinkled in his voice.

“Great! Welcome back Pete, now hand me that pen, I’m gonna need it.”

Two hours later, you were both sprawled across the floor tossing Chess-Its at one another.

“Come on!” You threw your arms up in defeat when you threw another cracker at him just for him to catch it again.

Peter chuckled, “Sorry angel, I’ve just got killer reflexes.”

“Alright whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, throw some at me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to finally win one round of this nonsense…just for a Cheez-It to hit your cheek and fall to the ground with the rest of your tries.

Peter laughed while you sat up, reached to grab the box of crackers, and poured some into your hand before putting it back down.

“Okay, I’m done. I actually want to eat them now.” You said, munching on a cracker and sitting against the side of his bed.

“Oh come on, don’t be a quitter Y/N/N,” he grinned, leaning over and pinching your cheek.

You swatted his hand away with your empty one. “M’not.”

He smiled at you before sitting up. “Hit me,” he said, opening his mouth and pointing at it.

You grabbed a Cheez-It from the palm of your hand and made a big show of trying to get your aim right. Squinting one eye, you stared at him, moving your hand back and forth before tossing it slightly more to the right. On purpose.

That didn’t stop him from leaning over and catching it in his mouth.

“I don’t like this game,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you did,” he said back, munching on his Cheez-it.

“Sue me,” you told him, brushing him off with a wave of your hand.

He laughed before he settled down. “How’s your hand feeling by the way.” His voice was considerably softer now, making you smile softly at him.

“It’s doing great, thank you again, Peter. I would’ve been totally fucked if it weren’t for you,” you told him honestly.

He shook his head, “Don’t thank me at all Y/N. Hate seeing you hurt,” he mumbled, less to you and more to himself and he stayed staring at your wrapped-up hand.

“Well don’t worry about that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you suddenly, like he needed to know you meant it.

“Yeah,” you nodded at him.

“That’s good,” he breathed out and your heart squeezed at how much he seemed to care.

“What's your plan? Y’know, for after school?” You didn’t want to leave just yet, even with your studying done. And you wanted to know more about him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken a certain liking to him lately.

“Well after I get my degree, I’m going move up a little further in Stark Industries. I’m still undecided on grad school, I think I’ve got everything I need and I’m probably just gonna start saving up to pay off student loans instead of adding on them.”

You nodded at him, “So the Stark internship is going well? No offense, I sort of thought you were their coffee mule.” You grinned at him before popping a Cheez-It in your mouth.

He scoffed, “No, I’m not. I mean, it did take a while to get them to take me seriously, but I got there!”

You laughed, “Well, very proud of you Pete. That’s super impressive.”

He grinned at you, his face heating up at your words. He wondered if you knew how much it affected him every time you called him Pete. Probably not, but he never wanted you to stop.

You two stayed like that for another hour or so, time passing by without you noticing at all. You talked about your futures, where you say yourselves after school, and after that. Your admiration for him only grew as you got to know him more. You could talk to him all night and never get bored honestly, you-

Shit.

A random notification lit up your phone, which lay beside you on the floor, making you take notice of the time.

You sat up quickly, spitting out curses as you started gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag.

Peter sat up as well, helping you get your things together but in a calmer manner than yourself.

“Relax Y/N,” he said in a soothing voice.

“Pete I can’t do it.” You turned to him suddenly, dropping everything in your hands.

“Do what, angel?”

“The exam is tomorrow. I’m not ready! I’m gonna fail, and that one grade, that one stupid grade, is gonna hold me back and ruin everything-”

“Sweetheart look at me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip was warm and reassuring. “You are not going to fail. And I know this because I’ve spent the last few hours studying with you, and I saw how smart you are, and how quick you caught on. You’re gonna walk in there tomorrow and ace that test, I know you are!

“And if for some reason you don’t,” he continued, “you gave it your best. You tried your hardest and you learned something, which is all that matters in the end. So breathe, stop stressing, and let me walk you home.”

“All that talk as an excuse to ask to take me home?” You snorted, “Peter you shouldn’t have.” Despite your jokes, you took his advice and took a deep breath. He was right, you’d studied your hardest, both with and without his help. All you could do was take the exam and hope for the best now.

He laughed and stood up, holding out a hand once he saw you all packed and ready. “Caught me. So is that a yes?”

You took his hand and pulled yourself up but didn’t let go right away. “If I fail, do we have to stop hanging out? Y’know, with you being a science prodigy and all.”

He laughed again and placed both his hands on your shoulder, staring straight into your eyes. “Never.”

“Ok, well, just making sure. I wouldn’t wanna give you a bad rep in the science community or something-”

You were suddenly cut off from your babbling when he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second, unsure what to do, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up and kiss him back.

He pulled away after a few moments, “Done with the jokes?” His voice was soft and teasing.

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. “But I think you might need to do that again, just to be sure.”

He chuckled murmuring something that sounded like ‘too cute’ but you couldn’t be bothered to hear when you felt his lips on yours again, this time, expecting them.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and canting your head slightly for better access. He groaned, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other settling on your waist.

You might have pictured kissing him before, just maybe. But none of your daydreaming could’ve prepared you for the real thing. The way his bottom lip covered your top one, the soft breaths exchanged between the two of you, the way he pressed himself further into you when you tugged his hair a little harder. This definitely beat all of your daydreams.

You could’ve stayed that way forever, and you probably would’ve if Peter hadn’t taken one for the team and pulled away first.

Or tried to, at least.

“We should-” kiss.

“You-” kiss.

“I need to walk,” kiss, “-you home angel.” He murmured against your lips.

“Okay,” you whispered back but you didn’t move to pull away, and he didn’t push you. The two of you stayed stuck, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, taking in the atmosphere of each other.

“I should probably go now,” you said softly. Peter hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck your lips gently.

“It’s getting late,” but your voice is more of a sigh. You don’t know what he’s laced his lips with but each kiss makes you weak in the knees and woozier than the last one.

“God, d’yknow I’ve had the biggest crush on you.” He said, completely disregarding your previous statement.

That stops you. “What?” You asked him in disbelief. Peter had a crush on you? No way, you would’ve known.

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “don’t act so shocked. I was always a stuttering mess at work whenever you so much as looked at me.”

True. But you’d just thought he was a bit more on the shy side.

“I’d seen you around campus before and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I still do, but I thought I had no shot in hell with you. And when I got the job at the cafe and saw I’d be working with you? I almost lost my fucking mind sweetheart.” You both laughed a little and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flamed up because of his words. Did he have any clue what he was doing to you right now?

“So I just sorta kept my distance, y’know? Admired you from afar ‘cause I was too scared you’d reject me. Sadly, it only took you nearly burning your hand off,” he gave you a look and you burst into giggles, him doing you and slightly pinching your waist, “for me to get over myself and actually keep up a conversation with you. But now I’ve got you in my room, kissing me.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “lucky you.” You joked as leaned in to press another kiss to his lips.

“Lucky me indeed,” he murmured before pulling you in even deeper. He dipped you, making you squeal into the kiss. Then he pulled you up, unable to keep the kiss going any longer with how hard he was grinning.

“Oh my god,” you said, laughing breathlessly.

“A lot more where that came from,” he smirked at you.

“You know,” you moved to pick up your bag, “for someone who was so scared to talk to me for so long, you sure found the confidence now.”

“What can I say? You make it easy. Once I started I couldn’t stop.” You smiled at him as he gently placed a hand on your arm leading you to the door. The living room was empty now, no one to be found on the couch or otherwise and you wondered where their cat had wandered off to.

You bent over to put on your shoes, Peter doing the same. He stepped forward and opened the door for you, letting you step out before following you and locking the door.

As soon as he was done with that, you reached over and grabbed his hand. “Hey Petey?” You said lightly. Oh, he was going to melt. From now on, he only wanted you to call him that.

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah? Me too angel.”

The next morning, you awoke in the brightest mood, considering you had a chemistry exam later that day. All you could think about was Peter. You were going to see him later at the cafe and you couldn’t wait.

You leaned over in bed to pick up your phone. Speak of the devil.

GOOD MORNINGGGGG❤️

hope you slept well angel, can’t wait to see you today. and you’re gonna totally ace that exam!🥰

seriously you’re going to kick chemistry’s butt

A huge smile bloomed on your face, almost hurting from how wide it was. Usually, you'd stay in bed for a while, scrolling through Instagram or just going through messages or something. Not today, you couldn’t wait to get to work. Maybe Peter was a good influence on you.

After getting ready for the day, you made your way to the cafe with a little bounce in your steps. The bell jingled above you as you opened the door and for the first time since you’d started working together, Peter was here before you.

“Hey,” he smiled, holding up your usual drink order and waving it at you.

“Hi Pete,” you approached his, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. As you pulled away, you could see how quickly his cheeks pinked, making you grin.

“No ‘Petey’?”

“Didn’t know you had a preference,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards you as you took a sip from the drink and then moved to get dressed for your shift.

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, wishing he could feel your hand on his for just a little longer, “neither did I.”

You laughed lightly as you tied your apron, the sound hitting him like the greatest melody in the world.

“Okay then,” you walked towards him, stopping right in front of him, “let’s start over. Hi Petey.”

“Hi angel,” he gave you a dopey grin and you returned it.

“Great, now that we’ve got that figured out.” You patted his chest lightly before taking the drink from his hands and moving away.

“Hey wait! Where’s my kiss?” He pouted at you and he looked so adorable, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him till he begged you to stop.

“We’re at work, we’ve gotta be professional.” You said matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms. “Professional my ass, no one is even in here-,”

Before he could even close his mouth, the bell jingled, and in stepped a boy about your age. The boy moved to one of the chairs, not moving to order just yet, giving you the chance to smirk at Peter, who just rolled his eyes again.

“What do you he’s gonna order,” he asked you.

“Hmm…a cookie, probably.” You moved lean against the counter across from him and took a sip of your drink as you smiled.

“Hey wait, you never told me what your drink order is.”

“Hmm…” he hummed in consideration before he moved towards you, grabbing your hand with the drink and bringing it up to his lips to steal a sip, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“I’ve got to say,” he said in a low voice, “this one has really grown on me.”

You couldn’t look away, all you could do was stare. And stare, and stare, and stare…

A stranger’s voice, and then, “Hey, can I get one of those double chocolate chip cookies?”

You were just on cloud nine today.

You had taken your exam and for the first time ever in that class, you had felt confident in your work.

And to top it all off, after you’d handed in your paper and packed your things to leave, Professor Hall had given you a ‘well done’ nod. You! He’d never noticed you positively before. You were going to need to drown Peter in thank-you kisses for his help.

Speaking of Peter, you couldn’t wait to see him. He told you he’d be waiting for you after your class but when you stepped outside, there was no sign of him. You decided to sit on the building steps and wait. He was probably just running a little late, no biggie.

Big biggie. After 40 minutes of waiting for him, during which you’d sent him a little text and he hadn’t responded, you decided to head over to his place.

The walk was short and your little buzz had worn off after not getting to share it with Peter. After all, you kind of owed him most of the credit. You arrived at his apartment door, and when you knocked, it wasn't Peter who answered.

It's Freddy.

You throw on a smile. “Hi Freddy, is Peter home?”

He returned your smile as he said, “‘Sup Y/N.” He held out his fist and you stared at it for a while before you got the hint and bumped it with your own. “Pete’s not home right now, but you can totally come in and wait for him.”

You found it funny that someone who didn’t live there was inviting you in to stay, but you accepted anyway. You also had no clue how he knew your name.

You knew little about Freddy, but you knew he was sort of a campus celebrity. Every raging party there was, everyone knew Freddy was behind it.

“So,” you said as you walked in, “what year are you in Freddy?”

“Ah nah, I’m done with that shit. I took the bar,” he said casually, waving a hand and moving to sit on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the large Amazon box being used as a coffee table and picked up the open beer sitting atop it.

You stood in your place, clutching your bag. He was in grad school?

“Oh that’s awesome dude, did you not pass or something.”

“Uh uh,” he shook his head, taking a swig of beer, “got a 350.”

Your eyes widened. What. You didn’t know much about law school but you knew getting a score like that on the bar was not an easy thing.

“Wait when’d you take it?” You asked confused. The bar exam wasn’t scheduled for a few months from now.

“Last year.”

“Do you like…work at a firm or something?” It was insane to you that the party animal of this school had already graduated, and with an amazing score nonetheless.

He shook his head, “Workin' on my music right now, and if that doesn’t work out,” he gave you a wicked grin, “well I’ve always got my law degree.”

You nodded, stunned. “That’s sick dude. Good luck,” you told him, waving as you moved to wait in Peter’s room.

“Keep the door cracked kids,” he shouted towards you and you huffed a laugh as you entered the room and closed the door (leaving it open just an inch) before you sat at the foot of his bed.

You looked around for a second, taking it all in. It’s amazing how he managed to take this small space and make it so him.

After a few moments, you took out your phone to shoot him another text.

But before you could finish typing it out, the window beside you started opening and you watched as the Spider-Man fell onto the bed, not noticing you gaping right next to him.

You stayed silent, unsure of what to do or say until he moved to take his mask off. That got you moving and talking.

“Holy fuck!” You basically shout, moving away, hands flying to your mouth.

He seemed to be just as shocked as you were because he scrambled up from his lying position. And staring back at you was Peter Parker.

“What are you doing here?” He asked you, eyes wide. It wasn’t till then that you noticed the paleness of his features, his face lacking that usually healthy glow it held, the waver in his voice, and the hand clutching his bloody side.

“Holy fuck,” you repeated, voice lower, and for a whole different reason this time. “Shit Peter, you’re hurt.” You moved closer to him, temporarily forgetting everything else as your hand reached to gently remove his so you could take in the extent of his injuries.

“It’s nothing,” he said but made no move to shove you away or stop you. You moved his hand and winced at the sight that greeted you, “Looks like a whole lot more than nothing babe.”

“I’ve had worse.”

You look up at him, frowning slightly, “Not exactly reassuring Petey.”

“I feel all better now,” he said, shooting you a charming grin as soon as he heard the nickname leave your mouth. “Add a kiss in the mix, and I’ll be good as new.”

You huffed a laugh, shoving his knee slightly, “Shut up Peter. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ve got some experience with stuff like this,” you wave a hand towards his suit and injury for emphasis and he gives you a quick nod.

“Over there,” he pointed toward his dresser, “top shelf, under the blue sweater.”

You rushed over there, opening the drawer and spotting the sweater he mentioned. “I’m totally stealing that from you someday, this is your heads up,” you told him as you grabbed the large box and completely closed the door before you moved back to his side.

“You can have anything of mine, Angel. I’m sure you’d look better in it anyway.” His words made you blush, but you tried to ignore them so you could focus on the task at hand.

Peter, however, found that he really liked watching your cheeks pink up. And he wanted more.

“Lean against the headboard, now.” You said, trying to be serious again.

“God, at least buy me dinner first sweetheart.” He gave you the dorkiest smirk you’d ever seen. You just glared at him. “On the other hand,” he said as he moved backward to lean against his headboard, “I don’t need dinner, I’m all yours baby girl.”

This got you to laugh, “Peter, be serious! You’re bleeding out!” You moved to his side, “take this off by the way.” You gestured to his suit.

He hit the middle emblem of a spider and you watched as it loosened up and fell off his shoulders. You had started pulling it the rest of the way down, gulping when you realized he wasn’t wearing anything else, when he mumbled, “Not a terrible way to go.”

You refused to look up and meet his eyes but he knew he got you. Thank god he was wearing underwear, you realized, and you threw the suit to the side after you’d completely shredded him of it. He was definitely going to need a new one.

Now completely facing the damage, your stomach churned, and you were hit with the hard truth. “I…I don’t know what to do,” you whispered to him. You wanted to help him, more than anything. This man who’s been risking his life, probably since he was a teenager you realized, as you did the math silently in your head, was hurt and right in front of you, needing your help. And you needed to help him, but you didn’t know the first thing about how to approach a situation like this. You were surprised you could stare at the wound for so long.

“Don’t worry, I can do it,” he said gently, his bloody hand reaching for the huge first aid kit.

“No!” You rushed out, grabbing his hand to stop him, “No way am I letting you do that! Just…just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.

Feeling more confident, you grabbed the kit and opened it. Shock coursed you as you realized just how much he went through and your confidence fell right back down where it sprouted from. The bag was full of all the medical tools and supplies you could think of, most of them completely foreign to you, and you realized how privileged you must be to not recognize any of these things. You can’t imagine the ‘worse’ he talked about having earlier. This must be those accidents he was talking about.

“I don’t usually have to use them,” his voice was soft, almost like he was reassuring you, “usually just water and a towel does the trick. Maybe a little numbing cream. And these,” he looked down at his wounds, “some bandages, sure, but I won’t need stitches or anything.”

You let out a breath of relief, you weren’t sure you could’ve handled that. You didn’t trust yourself.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing some wipes. You were going to do this. Based on what he’d told you, he was always stitching himself back up, just to hit the streets again the next day. This time, though, was different. This time you were here to help him, and you weren’t going chicken out of this. Even a little help was better than nothing at all.

You started slowly, cleaning around his wounds so you could bandage them properly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked you gently. “I totally understand if you need me to do it, angel, it’s a lot if you’re not used to it.”

“No,” you shook your head, your voice steady, “No way. It’s my turn to fix you up.” You told him, looking up to meet his eyes and smiling at him.

He returned it and you went back to work.

“So….Spider-Man, huh?” You peeked up quickly in question.

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a long story. Basically, I was bit by some spider, that shit was powerful,” you laughed a little, making him smile. “And I got some. Of its powers I mean.”

“So you get bit by a spider, that spider gives you powers, and you decide to become a New York vigilante?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he nodded, and you laughed again.

“You’re a hell of a guy Peter Parker.” You said, shaking your head slightly.

“Thank you, I try,” he smirked at you and you laughed again.

“Okay,” you said, pulling away from his side. He almost whined in protest. Honestly, he wasn’t feeling any pain, not since you’d started worrying about him, and insisting you help him. Peter wasn’t used to that, he was always alone when it came to this part of the job. He’d never minded that before, just one of the things he had to deal with as a superhero, but now that someone else was taking care of him…it felt nice. Really nice. Especially when it was you.

“Peter?” You looked at him questioningly. Shit. You’d asked him something.

“Huh? I'm sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with wide eyes. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the feeling of being taken care of, not that anyone could blame him though, the girl he’d been crushing on forever was here, in his room, helping bandage him up! It's more than he could’ve dreamed of.

“It’s okay sweetie,” you said, waving him off assuming he was in pain or something. Really, now he had something new to obsess over. Sweetie? While he was practically naked (albeit injured, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now) in bed with you? God, he could just melt.

“I was just wondering which bandages,” you said, holding up the different ones you’d found in his bag.

“Oh,” he said lamely, “these ones.” He grabbed a few from you and opened them.

“Look,” he said, leaning over himself to see his wounds properly, “you’ve got to bring together both sides of the wound, then secure the bandage so that it’s holding it closed.” He talked as he placed the first bandage with you watching and listening with intent.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” you said as you took the rest of the bandages from him. You steadied yourself, straddling his thigh as you started placing the bandages down his wound. The biggest gash took about five, your elbow resting on his abdomen as you got lower…and lower.

Conveniently, you missed the quiver in his breath, too focused on the work at hand, but you didn’t miss the small gasp he let out when your forearm reached right between his thighs.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you pulled away quickly, thinking you’d hurt him. “Did I pinch too hard?”

“No, no angel, you’re fine. Doing a great job actually.” He replied, trying to collect himself. He could not let himself think of that right now. There were more important things at hand.

“You sure?” You asked him, not looking convinced.

“Positive.” He replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back in (but making sure to keep you at a healthy distance from his dick).

You added a few more bandages, most of the cuts only needing one or two, before pulling away again to rummage through his bag. “What do you use on your bruises?”

“This one,” he said, leaning over you and grabbing a tube from the kit. You turned, your lips almost brushing over each other with how close you were.

“Hi,” you whispered, all thoughts completely flying out of your head as you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him.

“Hi angel,” he said smiling softly at you.

Seeing you debate it in your head, Peter decided it would be easier for the both of you if he did it first. Leaning in, he closed the distance and smoothly took your lips in his. You melted into the kiss right away, feeling like you’d been craving this your whole life when really, you’d just kissed his a few hours ago before you’d left work.

Your hands were on his bare chest, you could feel every muscle, every move when-

“Wait, you’re hurt!” You pulled away, leaving a pouting Peter in your wake.

“My lips work just fine angel,” he said, trying to steal another kiss while you tried to avoid him.

“But..let me finish at least,” you mumbled against his lips, barely getting a chance to pull away after he’d caught you.

“You can finish, just lemme do this first,” he responded before kissing you again.

“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips.

He hummed in response, moving to kiss your cheek, your jawline. If he kept this up you might not try to stop him.

“Did you know Freddy took the bar exam? And passed?”

That got him to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you confusedly, “I’m kissing you and you decide this a good time to bring up Freddy?”

“Well, y’know,” you shrugged, “figured it was as good a time as any.”

He scoffed, “Unbelievable.”

You giggled, “I win.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away before he could catch you and turn it into more.

“Now lay down, lemme do this,” you said waving the cream at him.

He moved grumpily and you thought grumpy Peter was the cutest thing ever. The furrow of his brows, the slight pout of his lips. You could just kiss him. And you would’ve if you hadn’t known where it would lead you.

You unscrewed the cap to the cream and started applying it gently. “So Fred’s a lawyer huh?” Peter spoke up.

“He is!” You whispered excitedly, glad he was just as shocked as you were.

“And you learned this how?” He asked, giving you a look.

You shrugged. “He let me in and I talked to him, asked him a few questions to get to know him better since I see him everywhere.”

“Wait, he’s here right now?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, “I thought you knew?”

“No I didn’t-,” he let out a sigh, “whatever it's basically his apartment too at this point I guess.”

You laughed, “And you’re okay with that?”

He shrugged with his good side. “He buys the good beer.”

You laughed again. “He scored a 350 on the bar exam!”

Peter’s brows shot up. “Oh shit.”

“I know! The only thing I knew about him was that he blacked out in that frat house’s pool all night and the cops were called cause someone thought he was dead.”

“Yeah, he’s super lucky he was on his back. Just floated around the pool like a leaf.”

You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the tube of cream, “Crazy. But anyway, I’m done. And on the plus side,” you grinned at him, “if you ever get in legal trouble, you know someone!”

He laughed out loud, and you watched as his face scrunched up and he clutched his side in pain. Apologizing for the joke, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to make up for it.

“Enough about crazy Freddy,” he let out a sigh, “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, and then I wanna cuddle with my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile as he stood up, giving you a kiss on the side of your head before he moved to pick out some clothes.

You watched him get dressed, biting your lip as you watched how his muscles rippled with each of his movements. You always knew he was strong but seeing him like that, was a completely different story.

“Like what you see?” He asked, smirking at you before he lifted his shirt, holding it up between his teeth as he tied his sweatpants.

Your mouth fell open. And being caught and also at…how absolutely hot he looked right now. If he wasn’t injured, you would be all. over. him.

“S’alright angel,” he said as he stalked towards you. He was enjoying this, a lot. “I’m sure I’d be the same if the roles were reversed.”

That did not help. Now you were thinking about being naked in front of Peter and-

He laughed, kissed the side of your head again, and laid down, pulling next to him.

“Careful Peter, you’re still hurt!�� You chastised him.

He shook his head, “You made me feel a hundred times better. Thank you, angel.”

“Of course Petey.” He smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight.

“So, you came to see me right? Y’know, before the whole finding out I’m Spider-Man thing. What’s up?”

“Oh I almost forgot,” you perked up, tilting your head up so you could see his face, “I think I totally aced that chemistry exam!”

“Angel! I’m so proud of you!” He started attacking you with kisses, kissing you anywhere his lips could reach.

You giggled, “Thank you sweetie, but seriously I owe you most of the credit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, “that was all you. I barely helped, you learned everything and then took that quiz, and aced it.”

“Well I haven’t gotten my grade back yet, I just have a really good feeling, so don’t sound too are there's a chance I didn’t do as well as I thought.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have a sense, a spidey sense. And my spidey sense is telling me that you totally aced that thing. No questions asked.”

You laughed loudly. “Spidey sense?”

“No questions,” he repeated as he nuzzled his nose into your hair.

“Fine then,” you snuggled up further into him. “No questions.”

198 notes · View notes

dolldefiler · 10 days

Note

Hey :)

I just wanted to say truly how incredible your writing is. I find myself refreshing on tumblr desperately looking for a new story from you whilst I mindlessly rub myself away to all the dirty things on here because it just works like no other if I’m honest..

Also wanted to say thank you for seeming like a genuine person on top of all the sex-stuff, a lot of people abuse the space with this sorta stuff so it’s refreshing to see a double edged sword type thing I suppose.

Now I guess onto the reason I gathered the courage to ask (even though I’m still on anonymous…) I was wondering if you’d be up for letting me share my fantasy and if it sparked any inspo, if you’d be open to doing a request whenever you got the free time?

One of my biggest fantasies in the world is being kidnapped, raped and gaslighted, with heavy heavy tones of misogyny. Idk something about a sexually fuelled patriarchal society really does something to me :0 but unfortunately it’s kind of hard to communicate that desire to anyone at risk of it being taken completely the wrong way (oh the joys of having these kinks) and so I fear I’ll never really get to live out any variation of this fantasy with someone I trust

I just imagine being taken one day, because I’m just a girl and it’s a man’s right to take me if they choose. He takes me back to whatever secluded hole he’s got to keep me in, and it’s brutal and harsh at first - tied, bruised, etc etc. Then as the days, weeks, months go by I begin to develop Stockholm syndrome or I’m just plain old gaslighted into thinking this is all women are made for. Maybe he recorded me saying degrading things about myself in the first few days, which I said out of fear but you play them back for me and convince me that I meant them and you never asked me to say those things, it must just be truly who I am. Maybe he’d reward me when I gagged on his golf with the most simple thing like a stroke of my hair while he brutally fucked my face, but the small sign of affection (even when being used so aggressively) would be the gentle touch that I had been craving in the months he had kept me locked away. Besides the first time he raped me (so he could hold my pleasure during it as a tool against me), he would edge me from the very start, breaking me, making me crave the pleasure against everything screaming in my body saying not to. Taunting me by saying if I could cum just one more time, he’d let me go.. but of course he’d never let me. Teasing me by saying if I do as I’m told he’ll think about letting me get extra close to the edge that day, because at this point being allowed that would be the closest I would ever get. By the end of it my rewards would no longer benefit me, I’d be thankful when he said I could cockwarm him whilst he worked, or if he said I could be spend hours and hours worshipping his cock with my mouth, even when my jaw began to hurt. He’d only fuck me ass unless he wanted to edge me and get me close, or to breed me full of cum. If I ever took a misstep, like missing a single drop of cum after he came, I’d be punished. I’d be thankful to serve him, I’d learn to speak to him as my superior and all my pleasure would come from serving him. I could be completely rewritten and by the end of it he could let me go with no worry, and I’d be his forever..

ANYWAYS… ahem. I think I may have got carried away.

Even if you don’t write anything like this, honestly it was kind of fun just typing it out.

Other than that, I hope you are doing good!

From a very horny anon (who maybe recently has maybe weirdly started subconsciously picturing some imagined version you in this fantasy)

-🍒

Aww, this is such a cute message to receive (and as ever with these asks, I apologise for taking a century to respond).

I would love to steal some girl away from her home, snatching her up like she's property to be claimed. Snatching it up, like it's property to be claimed. She'd struggle at first, screaming and crying, violently thrashing against her ropes and threatening to call the police. What a silly little sex doll. The police wouldn't care about her. They'd probably stolen away their own little fleshlights.

I'd beat her of course. Stupid fucking rapetoys need it sometimes. They need to understand that they're nothing until I give them a purpose. I'd lock her in a dark room with no clock, no water, not a single sound to accompany her but the sounds of soft sobbing and heavy breathing. She'd mark the passing of days from my sharp footsteps as I'd come down to feed her. Beat her. Abuse her.

I'd speak to her sometimes, whispering degradation into her ears. Taking off her gag to encourage to degrade herself for me, if she wanted food. The only human contact she'd know would be intensely degrading. Every vile word of degradation she'd whisper about herself would earn her a pat on the head or kiss on the forehead. I'd reward her for breaking.

I would record every trembling word of hate she'd say about herself and rape her to the sounds of it. I'd spread apart her cunt on my cock and pound away at her, recording even that, raping her endlessly to our homemade porn. To our rape videos. She'd watch her own face become stained with tears. She'd hear the nasty things she'd hear about herself. She'd lose her mind. Did she truly want this? Did she really hate herself?

I'd reassure her that this was normal. That it's okay to hate yourself. That all she needed was me. I'd strap a vibrator against her clit and drill into her ass, jerking off inside her to the sounds of her intense degradation, to the her loud, screaming in those rape videos. I'd teach her to love the feeling. Then I'd leave her again. I wouldn't speak to her for days, silently feeding her. She'd have to choose between eternal silence or... something that made her feel alive. Something that made her feel like a woman. Something like a pathetic fucking rapemutt.

I'd choke her out, squeezing her tighter and telling her that I'd stop if she only just told me to. I'd stop if she degraded herself. I'd stop it if she just said anything. But my hand would stop her. I'd watch her become unconscious and limp every time, and wake her up to my cock raping her ass violently and my palm slapping her sharply. I'd only use her cunt to reward her. To train her into loving my cock stirring up her insides in a way that didn't leave her screaming.

I'd rewrite her so thoroughly she wouldn't even be able to consider disobeying me. The police might stop burying their cocks into their own fleshlights and knock on my door. They might question her. They'd get nothing. She'd defend me and tell them she ran away with me. She'd fervently tell them how I'd saved her from her old life. How I'd helped her. They'd take one last look at her and leave my house. Perhaps I'd breed her as a reward.

#rapekink #r@pe fantasy #degradation k1nk #degrading k1nk #rough kink #r@pe kink #humiliation kink #r@pe k!nk #rapedoll #rapetoy #cnc kidnapping #kidnap fantasy #gaslighting kink #manipulation kink #bd/sm breeding

324 notes · View notes

creedslove · 4 months

Text

DON'T DO THIS 💍

Husband's best man!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: He loves you and he can't bear the possibility of seeing you marry another man

Warnings: angst, cheating, unrequited love, mentions of smut

A/N: idk besties, I came up with the idea of a short drabble because of this picture as it gives serious Joel Miller vibes, but not just any kind of Joel Miller, it gives me best man at a wedding Joel Miller kinda vibes 🤩😜

0.9k words

“Please don't do this”

Joel's voice made you jump even if his tone was low, just a little bit more than a humble whisper, making you snap back into reality and turn around to face him.

“What are you doing here, Joel?! You were supposed to be at the altar now, right next to my fiance!” you replied in an urgent, almost annoyed tone.

Joel shouldn't be there, it wasn't his place to be, he was nothing more than your soon-to-be husband's best man, he shouldn't just barge into the room where you'd spent the last few hours getting ready for your wedding, where you'd put on your wedding dress, done your hair and makeup. It was invasive, not only that, it was heartbreaking and tempting. He was a man, a real one, he was broad and strong, he shouldn't be looking at you the way he was; sad and disappointed eyes as he took a step further and placed his hands on your side, locking you in a grip you didn't actually want to break free from, but you knew you had to.

“I thought I could do it, I thought I could watch you marrying him, but I can't, darling, I want you for myself, I know I'm selfish and I have no right to ask you this, but please, don't do this..”

“Joel, what we did… it was a one time thing, I shouldn't have happened, it wasn't right, I cheated on my fiance with you to begin with… I was upset and you were there, you held me and made me feel better. It was special, but it was wrong” you could see the way his face fell, he wanted you, he was willing to give you anything if you stepped out of that crazy idea of getting married and finally stayed with him. Joel wasn't stupid, he was well aware of the fact he didn't have much to offer, but he could give you his heart and all the love he felt for you. The love he gathered through the years, ever since his friend introduced you to him. He tried really hard to let go of that feeling, to play it off as a silly crush, a passing crush, but it was impossible. All Joel could think of was you. Your eyes, your smile, your voice, how beautiful and intelligent you were; suddenly, that man who swore he would never let any other woman break his heart, saw himself at your feet. Allowing you to break his heart a little bit every single day without even knowing. He just watched you from afar, loving you, knowing the man you'd chosen wouldn't treat you as good as Joel would. He wanted you and it killed him he couldn't have you.

You, on the other hand, didn't dismiss Joel from your life. Since the day you met, you were taken aback by the fact he was handsome, gentle, sweet, hard-working and it still baffled you a man like himself wasn't taken; you had a soft spot for Joel, he was attractive, but at the same time you were engaged, your fiance was Joel's friend and absolutely nothing would ever come from that.

Until the night you showed up knocking on his door; you weren't proud of that, it shouldn't have happened. But when you saw your fiance walking through the door covered in glitter and smelling like cheap perfume, you knew something had happened in that bachelor party. You weren't a jealous type, but things had a limit and you were certain it had gone way beyond a simple stripper lap dance. No matter how many times you questioned him, even if he wasn't that drunk, you knew your fiance wouldn't tell you the truth, there was only one man who wouldn't falter being honest with you.

Joel Miller.

So when Joel saw you standing in front of him, mascara smeared down your eyes as you blinked away tears, showing him all the hurt you felt after being played by your fiance, he had no doubts. That motherfucker didn't deserve you, he did. So he tried his best to show you he could be good for you, he could be what you were missing out, the way he held you that night, how you asked him for more and more. He stayed between your legs for what it felt like forever and it wasn't enough for him; he wanted to taste you for the rest of his life.

When dawn came, so did reality shattering him once more, you had got dressed and left, asking him not to call you again, which he did, against all his will. But when he saw the opportunity of seeing you again before you could make the worst mistake of your life, he didn't hesitate. Seeing you in a wedding dress was certainly bittersweet. He loved and dreaded that sight in the same intensity. You looked perfect, but you weren't his.

“You don't love him, you know that, it's not too late. You can be happy, you know I can make you happy, all I ask for is a chance and nothing more”

His hand stroked your cheek as you tried hard to fight the desire you felt for him. What if you simply dropped everything behind and went with Joel?! Would it be too bad? For once not looking back and focusing on your happiness first?! You wish you could do it, but unfortunately it was impossible.

“I'm sorry Joel, but no, I won't don't this”

You said and watched pure disappointment in his eyes, the way his hands let go of your body and he nodded, pursing his lips. The rejection stung so hard he didn't think it was possible, but he couldn't force you into loving him. He wished you good luck in nothing more than a whisper and left you, without looking back.

____

263 notes · View notes

bloodynereid · 2 months

Text

Navy Blue Ink

part 2

pairing: major john 'bucky' egan x fem! reader

tw: some angst, mentions of death, war, swearing, mentions of alcohol, the usual stuff idk it's sort of fluffy but also not really, both think it's unrequited love/platonic love (they're dumbasses (affectionate)), dogs??

description: when john actually sets it up right.

a/n: yeah idk something possessed me to write this, i was lying in my bathtub this morning and was like yup need to write this ASAP. apologies if john is sort of ooc, i haven't written for him before and i haven't written in a while so yeah! also i have so many requests atm but i decided to ignore all of those to write this so enjoy me procrastinating things i actually have to do. OH and obv this is about the show's characters not the real people. enjoy <3

You sat at your little desk at the edge of your flat, contemplating how to start the letter… again. Pieces of balled up paper lay littered around you. It was almost comedic how much time you had spent trying to write a simple little letter. But it wasn’t that simple was it?

You were writing to your childhood best friend, someone you had basically been in love with your entire life. Major John Egan, Bucky, went off to fight and you were left with a large gaping hole in your life.

Sure, it was horrible when you saw him kissing, dancing and singing to other girls… probably doing more than that. But he always came back to you.

One guarantee that war had was that men don’t always come back.

So you had put off writing letters to him ever since he swung by your house to drop off the address for his next station all that time ago. You were a different person now, you had a job, a flat and a husky you had decided to name Ghost. You were also sadder, war had a way of taking a toll on everyone it touched.

But this morning you had decided not to put it off any longer. The decision came to fruition as you were lying in the bathtub, trying to soak away your sorrows. That was the moment when you said fuck it, got out of the bathtub, grabbed a robe and sat down at your desk.

You took a deep breath and dipped your pen into the navy blue ink pot. Your hand shook slightly as the pen met paper and words started to flow.

A few hours later, you woke up suddenly from a nap and instantly ran over to your desk and quickly scribbled a short note, putting a picture into an envelope and running to post the second letter before it was too late.

John felt a wave of sadness and defeat wash over him when nothing came for him in the mail call. It was stupid. He urged the emotion away and ran a hand through his hair. Be a man. You don’t need a fucking letter.

He watched as Buck leaned against one of the chests of drawers with a stupid smile on his face. Envy seeped through his pores. He wanted that. Whatever Bucky was feeling when he read his letter from Marge.

Fuck this. John needed a glass of strong whiskey right the fuck now. His throat almost ached for that sweet burn.

“Major! I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize these two were for you Bucky.” John’s mouth fell open as he stood up and quickly ambled over to see that there were in fact two letters addressed to him.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, Major.” John delicately took the papers and ignored Buck’s look of confusion as he gingerly cradled the letters to his chest and sat back down on the uncomfortable wooden chair.

There was no mistake that these were for him. Major John Egan was written in careful and delicate cursive, although on one of the letters the name looked more rushed than on the other.

He carefully tore open the first letter, the smell of woodsy perfume suddenly permeated his senses. A perfume he knew well. Y/N.

John could hardly believe it. She actually wrote to him. Nothing for months and then this. He pulled out the cream paper and carefully unfolded it.

Dear Bucky,

Twentieth time is the charm I guess. How are you? I have no idea how you’re supposed to write these things, maybe that’s why it took me so long to write to you.

God, I miss you John. I know that’s so stupid to say but I miss my best friend. I am truly sorry that I didn’t send you a letter sooner. I’m sure you’re missing me terribly as well and I have just been a cruel human being by not sending you letters.

I guess I didn’t send anything because I didn’t know what to say. I finally decided to just write a letter this morning while in the bathtub. No, don’t you dare smirk John it wasn’t like that. My ma might just murder me for being so unladylike but I can’t bring myself to start writing yet another letter that will just end up crumpled on my floor so you are getting the truth and nothing but the truth, Major. So yes I concede I was thinking about you in the bathtub.

Anyways, how's Buck? I remember you telling me about him during your visit so I thought I might mention it. You two seemed to be getting close and I’m glad you have someone out there to support you when I can’t. He can’t take the title of best friend though, that’s reserved for me!

What else? Well… I got a job and a dog! And I moved out. I now live in this tiny little flat (it’s very charming so don’t start scrunching your face up like you always do) and drink endless amounts of coffee. You got me hooked. What can I say?

I don’t know what else to say other than stay safe. I don’t think I could bear it if you died, Bucky. Maybe you already have and I just don’t know, so I’m hoping beyond hope that this letter reaches you. Remember that I love you always, you idiotic man.

Your best friend obviously,

Y/N L/N

John felt his eyes starting to sting. He had been so preoccupied with the war that he had also forgotten to write to her. The girl who had stolen his heart at age six when she threw mud at him when they were playing in the creek. His little angel who had just brought some light back into his life.

A smile twitched on his face, she was still his girl. And she said she loved him! Probably not the way he loved her but still, he would take anything she was willing to give him.

“Bucky?” The rasp of Buck’s voice shook him out of his reverie and he looked up to see his friend looking at him with a question in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s the letter from?”

“None of your business, Buck.” John says with an easy smirk falling on his face, a little spark in his soul seemed to reignite, he missed you and now at least he knew you missed him too.

“Jesus, come on. Who the hell is writing to you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“John…”

“It’s from Y/N.” Buck’s eyebrows raised in response and John outright laughed at how surprised he looked. “She asked how you are.”

“Y/N? Is she the one-”

“Yes, now shut up. I still have another letter to read.” Buck laughed and raised his arms in defense before turning back to his own letter. He was glad his best friend had that sparkle back in his eyes, it had been missing for too damn long.

John placed the letter back into the envelope and grabbed the hastily addressed one. He was surprised to see that there were two things in this one. Pulling out the letter he quickly read the words before his jaw dropped.

Dear Bucky,

I completely forgot to attach a picture to the last letter, since I’m assuming you want to know what I look like now.

Anyways here is a picture of me and Ghost, the love of my life.

- Y/N

John carefully tipped the letter to the side and out fell a picture into his outstretched hand. And it was you, but also not you. You looked so much older and there was a hint of melancholy in your eyes but there was still that distinct bright smile on your face. Your arms were encased around a large husky with eyes that were almost as blue as Buck’s.

It was wrong but he felt a pang of jealousy. God he wished he was in that dog’s place.

yeah... i'm obsessed with all the men in mota. i think i have a problem

part 2

#masters of the air #john egan #john bucky egan #john egan x reader #john bucky egan x reader #mota #mota fanfic #mota spoilers #buck cleven #gale cleven #harry crosby #bucky egan #masters of the air fic #masters of the air x reader #maria writes

227 notes · View notes

guccifrog · 4 months

Text

WRONG NUMBER P12

matt sturniolo x f!reader

idk what to feel about this one tbh 🤓

y/n's pov

"Here," Chris said handing me a soda can, I took it and nodded my thanks. We've been all sitting in the waiting room for the past four hours, since I got to the hospital first thing in the morning, no one was allowed to see Matt. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest, every time the doctors opened the door.

Nick sat wide awake, his head resting on my shoulder as I stroked his hair back from his forehead. His eyes never left the door, and every time it swung open, he tensed. Chris was sitting on the floor next to us, his head in his hands. He kept checking his phone, only to sigh and put it away again. The triplets' mom, whose name I learned was Marylou, sat across from us with their dad. Her eyes were red from crying, but she tried to keep a brave face on for her kids.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, the seconds seeming to drag on for an eternity. I glanced at Nick, trying to think of something to say to take his mind off the waiting, but every time I opened my mouth, my voice caught in my throat.

Marylou shifted in her seat and glanced at me, then back at her Nick. She caught my eye for a moment and gave me a small, sad smile. I really wanted to go over and hug her, to tell her that everything would be okay, but I didn't know what to say to someone who was facing what they were facing.

The door suddenly opened, and a doctor came out, her expression serious. My stomach clenched in fear as she walked over to us. "I'm sorry to say," she began, her voice quiet but firm, "that the surgery was not successful." Nick's head shot up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "The patient has sustained too much damage, and his organs have begun to shut down. We've done everything we can, but…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

I felt like the world had stopped spinning as the doctor spoke those words. Is that it? Is this how it ends? it's that simple?

Nick started to shake uncontrollably, his eyes filling with tears. He buried his face in my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around him, unable to believe what I was hearing. Chris threw his arms around us both, sobbing into Nick's hair. Marylou and her husband both cried silently, their faces twisted in pain.

"Can we at least see him?" Marylou asked, her voice shaking. The doctor nodded, motioning for us to follow her. Nick clung to me, as we walked down the hall. I squeezed his hand reassuringly, wishing there was something I could do to make this better.

The room was dimly lit, and machines were beeping in the background. The hospital bed was elevated, and a body lay under the thin white sheet. Nick's body went limp in my arms as he realized it was his brother. His sobs grew louder. Chris squeezed past us, falling to his knees beside the bed. He reached out and pulled the sheet back.

"What the fuck?" I gasped as I looked at the body that was under the sheet. That's not Matt, it's someone else. It was an old man's body. The room spun, and I felt like I was going to throw up. "Oh my god," I heard Chris say, his voice cracking. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Nick was still sobbing into my shoulder, oblivious to what had just happened. Marylou knelt beside the bed, her hands clutching the sheets. The doctor walked over to us, her expression grim. "We're so sorry, There's been a mix-up. We'll go find your son immediately." She turned and practically ran out of the room. Nick looked up from my shoulder, confused. "What do you mean, a mix-up?"

Chris, still staring at the body on the bed, said, "I don't understand. That's not Matt. I'm sure that this isn't even his room." He turned to the other doctor. "Who's body is that?"

The doctor paused, his face pale. "I…I don't know. The records show that he was supposed to be here, but…it's not him." He looked at us, his eyes filled with fear and regret. "I'm so sorry, we'll try to fix this"

Nick pulled away from me, his face a mix of anger and disbelief. "Fix this? How do you fix something like this?!" He pointed to the body on the bed. "That's not my fucking brother! Where is he?!"

Marylou took a deep breath and tried to calm him down. "Nick, we need to stay calm. The doctor is going to find out what happened and make sure Matt is okay. Let's just try to wait here." She squeezed his hand, but he pulled it away, pacing back and forth.

The doctor returned a short while later, her expression grave. "We've identified the body as belonging to a man named Matthew Williams. He was admitted to the hospital under a false name, and the records were somehow switched with your son's. We've notified the police, and they're investigating the situation." I stared at her, My face a mask of disbelief and horror. "I am so, so sorry for this mistake. We'll do everything we can to find your son and get this sorted out."

Nick collapsed into a chair, his head in his hands. Chris knelt beside him, trying to comfort him. Marylou looked from Nick to the doctor, her face pale. "Do you have any idea where our son might be?" she asked, her voice shaking. The doctor shook her head, her expression pained."Not yet. We'll alert all the hospitals in the area and work with the police to locate him as quickly as possible."

As the minutes turned into hours, the waiting room seemed to close in on them. Nick paced back and forth, unable to sit still. Chris tried to stay calm, but the anxiety was evident in his voice when he spoke to the doctors. Marylou sat in a chair, her face pale. The silence was broken only by the occasional sob from Nick or the beeping of the machines in the hallway.

taglist :

@mattestrella @chrisfavoritepepsi @sunsetsturniolos @littlebookworm803 @sturniozo @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ev3rgreenxtrees @nonamegirlxsturniolo @crybabycat1 @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo @ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @iluvmeeen @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli

346 notes · View notes

workingbynyx · 2 months

Note

hello baby I love your theme !! i saw you were doing jason todd x readers so i’m gonna shoot my shot OFC NO PRESSURE

so we all know bruce is rich so jason must be as well but WHAT IF reader also came from a rich powerful family of Gotham, I think they would maybe meet through a gala or something and Dick would joke to Jason about how he is drooling at the sight of reader IDK BABES IT’S UP TO YOU, i hope it inspires you <3

City of Stars — Jason Todd x F!Reader

↷ summary — what happens if one of the bat sons meet the striking heiress of another powerful family? ˎˊ˗

↷ pairing — jason todd x f!reader ˎˊ˗

↷ genre — romance, fluff, slight comedy and eventual angst ˎˊ˗

↷ warning/s — a few curse words here and there ˎˊ˗

↷ a/n — hey!! tysm for this prompt oml its the cutest, and ik its a bit of a cliché but reader is an heiress to stark industries here 😭 i figured it would be interesting since, contrary to popular belief, tony and bruce wouldn't get along so it offers the question what would happen if their children got together (tea 👀🍵) this isn't based on anything btw! so there might be some ooc instances. OH AND I'll probably make a part 2 of this soon if i get motivationekehwjd soooo i hope you enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗

— wayne manor, present day

bruce fixed yet another gala for the year, inviting multiple billionare ceos and business owners to the humble party. gotham city strived under the great care of his trusted partners even when crime and corruption still runs in the city. the bat took care of that of course, with the help of his sons and daughters who also attended the event in simple dresses and suits and ties tailored to their liking.

the gala had been going on for a few hours or so which eventually became boring enough for jason to take a few shots and drinks by the bar as he scanned the crowd with people in bejeweled clothes and shimmering jewelry that blinded him as the chandelier shined on them. "is all that really neccessary.." he mumbled to himself, taking a sip of his 3rd drink of the night. "yes it is, would you rather people come into sweats like you would?" dick suddenly chimed in as he walked up towards jason and leaned against the counter of the bar, asking for a drink of his choice.

"It wouldn't hurt to try next year" jason said with a stern look on his face, occassionally shooting up a short smile to people walking by. "if bruce allows it, i doubt he would. the man practically lives in a suit and tie" dick replied, "well, tough shit grayson. you might be forgetting being the rebel is sort of my thing" jason shot back with a smirk. "ah, my bad" grayson said with a chuckle as he sipped on champagne. "so, anyone caught your eye yet?" "If you mean spoiled little kids running around with chocolate smeared on their faces then yeah" jason sighed while dick suppressed a laugh. "c'mon man, there's at least gotta be someone" "dick, i didn't come here to look for 'someone' nor do i ever plan to"

and right when jason uttered those words with no remorse, he immediately swallowed them right back when he caught a glimpse of you in the crowd. the dark yellow dress you wore complimenting the red of his suit, its like a match made in gotham, as one would say. the man had to double take in your way when you slowly walked through the room with your father, tony stark. the man behind stark industries, one of the richest companies based in new york. jason knew they recently opened a branch within the city to make way for new advanced technology and scientific engineering. that was probably the reason why you're here from jason's assumption.

"i'd say otherwise" dick snuck up beside jason and whispered to taunt him, his eyes following the lady that caught his brother's attention. "..what?" the other finally said, snapping out of it. "you should go up to her instead of drooling over here, you look like a total loser dude" dick patted his shoulder which annoyed jason. "cut it out dick, i'm not going up to her" "why not?" "i have other things to tend to" "like?" "...shut up" "jason, this is your only shot. are you gonna waste it on brooding the whole night?" "i'm NOT taking any of your dating advice" "i didn't say you have to date her dipshit, what could a friendly conversation lead to?" "a can of worms, go figure" jason then started walking away from dick as soon as he sets the glass down on the counter.

"jay c'mon," dick caught up to him which released a frustrated groan from jason. "she seems like a nice woman" "you're really living up to your name right now, stop it" jason said through gritted teeth.

in other people's point of view, it looks like two grown men are silently arguing in the corner of the big hall which then caught your attention soon after. you wanted to get to know bruce's children after he warmly welcomed you and your family to gotham before they got down to talking business, it obviously lost your interest so you quietly excused yourself from the conversation to wander the mansion.

you stumbled upon one of his daughters and had a nice conversation, they didn't seem intimidating as they said they'd be— not until you went up to his sons. you mentally prepared yourself as you slowly walked over to the duo, straightening the slight wrinkles on your dress and patting down your necklace.

"uhm, hello there. i hope i'm not interrupting" you called out to them which caught their attention. dick and jason quickly arranged themselves to look presentable, even if they were just arguing seconds ago. "hey" jason said as he cleared his throat, to which you replied with a smile. "its a wonderful party, i see mr. wayne has good taste" you tried to sound polite as possible...was it even worth trying?

"yeah, definitely" dick nodded his head. "i'm richard by the way, richard grayson. but you can call me dick" "oh uhm, pardon?" "it's unusual, i know. but trust me its fine" you couldn't help but slightly giggle at his statement, he was quite the charm. jason, on the other hand, couldn't stand seeing the two of you almost get along. he had to do something if he wanted to win you over.

you then looked over to him in anticipation, "jason" he says. "jason todd" he added. "it's nice meeting you, i've heard..interesting things about you" you said as you reached out your hand for a shake as he returned the gesture. "mhm, that's..great i guess" he nodded. "well uhm, i just wanted to come over and say hi. if our dads are gonna work together i should probably get to know his children too as a courtesy" you said with a smile, talking to bruce's oldest sons was quite nerve wrecking to say the least. they were tall, fit, sharp and certainly attractive, they're also intelligent one might add.

"huh" jason blurted out. "i didn't know bruce and mr. stark had to work together" he said. "oh, mr. wayne didn't mention anything?" "he never does" he replied. "hmm, that's a bit odd.." "trust me, everything's odd when you're around him" you couldn't help but chuckle which took jason back a bit, seeing you find his 'joke' funny enough. it was...adorable.

"i'll take your word for it, jason" hearing you say his name was like hearing angels sing to him. he didn't even realize he was developing a crush on someone he just met at a random gala, that never happened before. it must be something about you that attracted jason a lot.

"oh and, do you know where to get some fresh air? all this business talk has been making me ill for the past hour" you asked, a bit embarrassed to say it in front of them. but they seem to get your pain. "I'll let my brother show you, he knows this place a lot more than i do" "wh— you literally live here" jason whispered loudly. "i'll see you around ms. stark, i look forward to working with you soon" and just like that, dick had left you and jason alone.

your eyes followed dick as he walked back into the crowd until he was no longer seen, your gaze returning back to jason who was just staring at you unconsciously. at some point, you found yourself admiring his features for a moment. his eyes that shined against the light, his ruffled hair that sat prettily on his forehead, and his prominent jawline. 'he's cute...i guess' you thought to yourself, not until he cleared his throat when the silence got too loud.

"sooo, shall i show you around or are you gonna keep staring at me?" he said which made you lift a brow. "staring at yo— weren't you the one staring at me first?" you argued, making jason laugh at your protest. "relax, i was kidding" he added, flicking his head towards the staircase for you to follow him. "y'know, for a sec i thought you were a royal of some sort" jason started as the both of you went up. "how so?" you asked. "i don't know, you look all elegant and..the way you speak" you chuckled at his remark. "should i be flattered or is that a bad thing?" "not at all" jason said, a short smile forming. "well, that's what my mother taught me. she didn't want me to be a 'smartmouth' like my dad. he's probably annoying mr. wayne by now because of it" "bruce has already been around smartmouths enough," he turned towards you, "exhibit a" then gestures to himself.

you couldn't help but chuckle at jason. "is that so?" you asked with an exaggerated tone. "i didn't take you for a smartmouth if i'm being honest, more quite the opposite really" "well you might've if we met under different circumstances" "maybe, maybe not" you looked up to him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, a slight smirk forming on his face.

as the two of you walk through the empty halls of the mansion, you both reach the huge balcony where the doors are wide open. the cold breeze seeping through the curtains which sent shivers down your spine. you tried to fight the chills around your skin, but it was evident to jason you were clearly freezing. he unbuttoned his blazer and wrapped it around your shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze when you thanked him. "ahh, this is nice" you exhaled, relief washing over you when the distinct conversations are finally blocked. you stared into the dimmed city lights of gotham, poorly glistening from where you stood.

"it kinda is" jason added, his hands now both in his pockets as he admired the view...and you.

the longer you stared, the longer a thought began lingering. you cracked your head to the side to look at jason standing behind you, ushering him to come forward. "so uh, how long have you been here?" you started. "since birth, i'm pretty much stuck here" jason answered as he leaned against the railings. "but either way, gotham is my home afterall. i don't think i'll ever have the chance to leave this behind, even if i wanted to" there was a bit of sentiment behind his words, but you understood him. you were also pretty much stuck in one place before your father finally agreed to take you elsewhere, to finally let you handle things your own way when you came of age.

he was always protective over you which partially hindered you from living up to your true potential, but now that he's giving you a part of his legacy you have the chance to prove yourself.

"how was it like? y'know, growing up in a city like this" you followed up. "nothing to sugarcoat i'll tell you that, but uh...that's probably a story for another day" jason says, a quick glance to your direction. "another day?" "yeah another day" he said, studying your reaction. his eyes gleamed with hope, hoping that you'd understand where he's getting at. "are– are you saying—" "yes, ms. stark. i, jason todd, am hoping to see you another day"

your cheeks flushed pink, the heartfelt conversation suddenly turning into whatever this was. it was a pleasant surprise. "i— well, i don't see why i'd say no to that offer" you said with the brightest smile on your face. jason contained a smile however, letting his head fall down between his arms while he sighed in relief. that could've gone the wrong way. he tapped against the stone railing and brought his head back up, his cheeks also dusted pink. "a'ight so, when can i see you then?" he raised a brow.

"i'm in the city for the next few weeks, come visit at the flat two blocks away from the stark industries site. i'm at the third floor, second door to your right" jason took note of that mentally, making sure he got every detail down. "right," he nodded. "uhhh, how do they say this— so it's..a date?"

"it's a date, mr. todd"

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd x f!reader #✎ ─ nyx fics !#dceu

167 notes · View notes

sleepingnova · 1 year

Note

imagine miles morales confessing to you that he is spider man after he saves you from something idk I love him

sure thing anon :) I don't know if you wanted this to be a pre - established relationship, so I'm just gonna go on a limb here and do that. sorry this took so long, I had a sudden burst of motivation. it's 1 am, so this isn't proofread

wc : I don't have a fucking clue, how do you check your word count if you're mobile?? I wanna do that 😭

Friendly neighborhood spider - man

pairing: miles morales x journalist reader

summary : being new york's top journalist has its perks, but it always seems to attract the wrong type of attention.

Journalism. It's not for the faint of heart. When you have deadlines to make, interviews to take care of, and people constantly yelling either at you or around you 24 / 7, everything can be a bit time consuming.

That also means you get a lot of attention. Some good, while others..not so much. Sure, its nice to have a free coffee or cake pop every now and then for the articles and the interviews you do; people have always said you have a way with words.

You really don't even know how you got into this situation. The caffeine kicked in, which made you jumpy to everyone and everything, really. Your eyebags were not very nice to look at and to be honest, you looked a mess.

You woke up late for class, you weren't really feeling like getting out of bed anyways but you did it anyway. No makeup, no nice and preppy clothing, just you; and boy did that bite you in the ass. You were 95% sure that all the things you had in life were handed to you because you were pretty. For instance, the guy who hired you literally took one look at you and said "congratulations, you're hired. we could use a pretty girl like you for coffee runs, right sweetheart?"

With balancing college and your career as a journalist, it's not too difficult. So then why'd you end up in this situation? Getting cornered by 3 guys in a dark ass alleyway, and it's 3:05 am.

No one at your job comes close to you when it comes to performance. Every single time. The newest topic of discussion is Brooklyn's number one trending for 7 years straight : spider - man.

"Who was he?" is your focus. The CEO of your job was retiring, and he held a competition to see who would take his spot. He obviously had you in mind, but he wanted to make things fair and you told him you wanted to earn it, not have it given to you.

The challenge was fairly simple: Get an exclusive interview with spider - man and have him answer a couple questions.

You've done exclusives before, not a problem. Until you realized, major problem. He swings around the city 24/7 how in fucks name were you going to catch him? Until an idea came to you. You stayed up all night, then you got hungry, so you left your dorm and walked down the street to the 24 hour convenience store. You liked documenting what you do, so you were recording on your phone where you were going.

After getting some snacks, you left and couldn't shake the feeling you were being followed. You were. By 4 different people. One of whom was none other than the infamous Miles Morales or, well, spider - man. He saw the guys five minutes ago and didn't want to do anything until he knew for sure you were getting followed.

A bit of time passes and miles realizes, he lost you. He hears a muffled shout from down the street so he runs towards it, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

Now your mind comes back to this exact moment. You can't really make out what the guy in front of you is saying, but you think he's trying to rob you, but why would he need two other guys to rob someone? Especially in the middle of the night. You look dazed and totally not scared at all, Miles thinks, as he's literally invisible right in front of you.

You come out of your trance to one of them forcing you onto the ground. You wiggle and worm your way away, but it's not enough. Fear settled in as you realized what they were doing.

"Hey! Let her go." A voice shouts. You reach into your pocket to grab your pepper spray as you see a bunch of webs and hear hard blows hitting, but it's really dark and you can't see in the dark for shit.

You start running out of the alley and back towards your building, you look back and see the three of them running after you. So you run a little faster, and faster, until you're full on sprinting down the street.

'Thank god my parents forced me into track and field.' you thought, as you got closer and closer to the building. As luck would have it, the doors were locked, and your key was in that bag full of snacks.

They finally catch you, and in a split second, you brace for impact, but it never comes. You're in the air.

You look up and there it is. This is the story that'll get you CEO position, you'll be CEO for the rest of your life. A thought pops into your head as he drops you off at his apartment.

'Was my phone recording everything? Oh shit it was.' you think to yourself as you pull out your phone, your eyes widening.

Another thought pops up. 'oh my god, I'm in spider - man's apartment. it's not even that far from my building.' you wonder as you stop the recording.

"you do know you're going to have to delete that footage, right?" he asks as he lifts up his mask and puts something in his mouth.

"I get your job as a journalist is important, but sweetheart, I gotta keep you safe."

You raise your eyebrow, "how do you know about my job?"

he shrugs as he removes his mask.

"Miles? What the fuck is this? Don't tell me you're.. You're spider - man?" You whisper yell as you back up towards his desk.

"The one and only, love. surprised to see me?" he chuckles.

it was then that everything started to piece together. he always bails on plans, he's always late and has sudden injuries. hell, you even saw his suit in his bag once, but you didn't think anything of it.

"wait.. what does my interview with you have anything to do with keeping me safe?" you raised a brow at him as he plops down on his bed.

"think about it, baby. Me swinging around being spider - man gets pretty complicated when there's an article released by my girlfriend about how she got saved, by me. It puts you in jeopardy, because criminals can find you and use you as bait, and because I don't know that you won't put my identity out there." he explained.

"but you know I'm not like that." you replied.

"yes, I know baby. it's just complicated." he said.

you sighed with a defeated look, knowing that your boss wasn't going to be pleased, but it was for the best.

"if it's alright with you, do you mind if I just stay here for the night? in the morning, on my way to work, I can ask for another key." you asked, softly, him catching your disappointed change in octave.

"yeah sure, that's fine." he replied, walking into his room.

"do you have a spare blanket? I can just sleep out here on the couch." you called to him.

"hm? uh yeah, I think I have a spare. unless you'd like to sleep in my room, with me? the couch is kinda uncomfortable, and it gets kinda cold in here throughout the night." he offered, shyly.

"what about your roommate?" you questioned quietly.

"he won't be back for another week or so, as far as I'm concerned, he'll text if something goes south." he answered.

you thought for a moment, then nodded as you followed him into his room and climbed into his soft bed.

"woah, this is way softer than I thought it would be. what softener do you use when you wash your blankets?" you wondered aloud, cuddling all in his blankets and he chuckled.

"uhhh, I don't know. my roommate does laundry. I don't ever go with him unless he needs me to, which isn't often." he responded.

'ah.' you thought.

"aren't you going to spoon me? c'mon miles, please?" you pleaded with the tired, little puppy dog eyes miles swore he hated, because he could never say no to you when you made that face.

"I'm sorry, I have a couple of essays to write still. Why don't you get the bed nice and warm, then I'll be in bed before you know it." he cooed.

your eyelids started to get heavy as you let out a small hum as you started to fall asleep.

when you woke up the next day, it was 8 am and there was a small basket in the chair next to you.

the basket was filled with your snacks from the night before all wrapped up in the bag still, a hoodie and some clothes to wear to class, a water bottle and a nice book for you to read. on the desk, there was your favorite iced coffee and a note with absolutely beautiful penmanship.

you smiled as you read the letter.

[ hello,

spider man here!

I only have time to answer one of your questions right now, so here it is.

Being a hero isn't about being famous or rich, it's about your own morals and how you stick to them. I started the whole "spiderman" thing when I was 14 years old. It was hard, I had just lost a family member and I felt isolated from my family. You wouldn't believe me if I said that under the mask, I'm just an ordinary person, just like all of you, but I am, really.

I chose to be a hero because I believed in helping others. I really have to leave, so I can't say much more.

Remember, anyone can wear the mask.

Until next time,

—your friendly neighborhood spider man. ]

while you knew that you couldn't tell anyone about who was really under the mask, a part of you felt proud that he trusted you with his secret.

should I make another part to this? likes and reblogs are always appreciated :>

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #into the spider verse #spiderman

950 notes · View notes

goblinontour · 4 months

Text

Nothing Of The Scent She’s Sending

alex is drunk and fucked up

warnings: smut, pwp, masturbation (m receiving), idk man

word count: 3.1k

he never really got over you, everyone knew it. but it wasn’t that big of a deal anymore. he pushed it to the back of his mind and tried to move on, girl after girl, even thought he might love some, but you were still there, lingering, as much as he tried to deny it.

now he is single, but content, he likes to think. he’s been enjoying his time off tour in england, visited some family. he came back to his london house, getting tired of LA, wanted to start writing some new material but no ideas came through.

he decides to go out one day, after not seeing some of his friends for a long time, too long. but it all goes wrong. one of them mentioned birthday coming up and alex’s sick mind got stuck on that, of course. you got in his head. again. and he couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. they end up going to a bar in the evening and he stays for a few drinks. though not enough to get full on wasted, it is enough to cloud alex’s mind.

when he gets home it dawns on him, thoughts of you, of the two of you together, just how much he missed it, having you around the house, kissing you almost every morning…he goes straight to his little bar cart and contemplates for a bit. should he try to make himself a proper drink, perhaps even try your favourite again, just to get a glimpse of your taste? no, that would take too long. he can’t be bothered. he decides upon straight up liquor, out the bottle. as he slumps down on his settee he turns on the tv to some random documentary to try to calm his thoughts. all for nothing. his impulses take over him. he takes his phone out of his back pocket, instinctively searching for your name, scrolling through his list until he finds it. he forgot about the picture he’d set as your contact and god did he stare at it not even realising how the minutes passed. you just looked so pretty, perfect. it was one he took while you were sleeping, he’d woken up before you in the morning and the light hit your face so beautifully, accentuating all your features, your hair all messy around the pillow and some over your eyes, he couldn’t resist capturing the moment.

he downs his drink and sits forward, a hand holding the phone, your face staring back at him, and the other rubbing over his face nervously, tugging at the slight stubble, prickly under his fingertips, trying to gather the courage to do something. or rather to get back to his senses and do nothing.

he settles upon texting you a simple ‘hello’. he waits and waits for what feels like hours, though it had only been a few minutes, every second tormenting him. he texts again.

‘darling please…’ . please…what? he doesn’t even know what exactly it is that he wants out of this. he wants you, of course, but he can’t just say that, can he? so what will he even say to you when you reply, if you do. he didn’t think it through, though it doesn’t stop him.

seeing as you aren’t responding, he calls, and calls, again and again, going to voicemail every time. he leaves a few messages, telling you ‘call me, please’, and stuff along those lines. it is now 3am and although confused once you check your phone and see all his texts and missed calls, you decide to call him back, thinking something might be wrong if he’s so insistent.

he answers instantly and you greet him with a soft “hi”, but he can’t muster up any words, completely shocked he’s hearing your voice again, his mind going all blank. it’s not like you two ended things on bad terms, but he distanced himself from you, in the hopes he could forget about you.

he can hear your breathing on the other side of the line. when he finally breaks out of the sort of trance he was in he speaks up.

“erm…hi…hello darling”. his voice breaks mid-word and he already wants to beat himself up for embarrassing himself. you ask him what he wants, not in a rude way, just curious. after all, you hadn’t talked in months. he doesn’t know what to say, he wants to say ‘i miss you’ but what if you don’t feel the same way.

you start chatting a bit, just this and that, after the weird awkwardness at the beginning, him asking you how you’ve been, random stuff he could blurt out in his intoxicated state of being at the moment. he always had a way to reel you in, his mind is a wondrous place, what you loved the most about him.

the alcohol got the worst of him though. he starts to feel himself getting more and more aroused just from the sound of your voice. fucking hell is he that desperate? he tries to keep the conversation going and get you talking more. he doesn’t even notice when he starts touching himself over his dress pants, feeling his growing erection. fuck, no, what are you doing. he quickly removes his hand but he can’t help himself. it hurts. you got him hard just by talking to him. not even face to face, over the fucking phone. maybe it won’t be that bad, he could just try to soothe the ache, palming himself, grabbing at it, to get it to go down. but he can’t help it like that. and he hates himself for doing this.

he is desperate, his cock strained by the confines of his pants, tightening by the second. he caves in. he undoes the button hastily, struggling for a moment, murmuring something under his breath which earns him a “huh?” from you, but he just brushes it off. his hand soon slips into his boxers, rubbing his fingertips over his tip softly for a moment. sweet relief. he spreads the wetness with his thumb and he slowly starts stroking his cock, more just rubbing his hand over the length, as if he was petting it, throwing his head back over the backrest of the settee, his breathing getting heavier.

at this point he can still keep the conversation going without letting what he is doing show. it doesn’t last much longer though. the way your voice gets softer and quieter from sleepiness, since it is late, and unlike him you aren’t under the influence of anything. but he is. and it isn’t the drinks he had anymore, it is you. he is imagining you laying down on the bed while you are giving your precious time to him right now, out of everything you could be doing.

he wonders…are you naked? the thought of you being naked while talking to him reels him in even further. he pushes his boxers down to his balls, taking his cock out properly, grasping it in his hand and wrapping his fingers around it. tight. he lets go for a moment to spit in his palm so he can make it slippery enough so it feels good, messy, just how he likes it, and as soon as he starts stroking himself with the newly added wetness it is over. he is panting, catching himself occasionally when he is starting to make too much noise. he can’t have you noticing what he is doing. he can’t have you think of him as some obsessed creep. but he is, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. slow but precise strokes follow, his grip tightening every time he gets closer to the tip, pulling down on his foreskin to reveal the pink head, glistening from the precum leaking, spreading it around and down his length. why weren’t you here to do this? he misses you, your mouth around him, no one compares, nothing. his hand is just…not the same. it took him a couple of weeks to be able to make himself cum after your split. it was torturous, like he was trying to rid himself of an addiction.

he gets lost in the feeling, so much that he forgets that you are actually there, and you can perhaps sense what’s going on. he’s been quiet for a good time now, and yes, you keep going, just talking but you notice that he’s not saying anything in response anymore, not even a ‘mhm’ or something. but then a deep raspy moan escapes his mouth. what the hell?

“alex, what are you doing?” you ask. is it what you think? can’t be…

fuck. he fucked up.

he drops his phone, startled by you speaking up, hearing his own name in your voice snapping him out of it. he got himself so close that when he instinctively leans over to grab the dumb thing, the slight friction from his cock rubbing against the rough fabric surrounding it pushes him over the edge, and he can’t do anything about it. he wants to scream. all of this for nothing. of course he had to ruin it for himself. he immediately bites his lip, hard, almost making it bleed, watching the cum dribbling out pathetically from his tip, with no stimulation whatsoever.

“alex?” you ask again. what the fuck is up with him.

he doesn’t bother saying another thing, hanging up on you. you don’t deserve some poor excuse, you know exactly what happened, he doesn’t get to feel better about it by trying to convince you it was just nothing. and he doesn’t want to make himself feel like even more of a loser by trying to lie his way out of it.

he just stares down at himself, just watching how the sticky cum eventually drips down on his black trousers and how he slowly softens, not even all the way from the disappointing orgasm he gave himself.

he pitifully gets up to go clean it up, wincing when the sharp zipper pinches his thin sensitive skin as he walks to the bathroom. he deserves to feel pain, that’s what he gets for not even tucking himself back in, just tramping around the house with his dick fluttering between his legs over his clothes. the pain feels surprisingly good though. it shouldn’t feel good. he deserves worse.

once he reaches the cold room his eyes get hit by the stark white lighting and he can’t stop himself from staring as he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the big mirror on the sidewall. pathetic. he’s pathetic. his half hard cock hanging down, the white stains of his cum drying up a reminder of how low he stooped.

he takes off his clothes, leaving them on the floor to deal with later. he contemplates taking a cold shower, to get it to go down but…taking the edge off would be better. once again he meets his own reflection staring back at him. he gets closer, his hands along with his forehead sticking to the cool glass, his hair marking it with sweat. he looks straight into his own eyes thinking what the fuck are you doing alexander. one of his hands travels down to his cock, a sigh escaping his lips at the sensation, much more sensitive than usual due to the ruined orgasm from earlier. his lips part as he starts with slow strokes, feeling himself growing back fully hard already, his hot breath against the mirror fogging it up. he shouldn’t be doing this, not while thinking of you like that again, not after using you to get off. but it feels so good, imagining it is your hand instead, or your mouth, or even your pussy. god he misses it. his plush lips come in contact with the reflective surface as he moans, loud, his bottom lip dragging against the glass.

as his intoxicating thoughts of you continue clouding his drunken mind, drunk on you more than anything, he remembers something. the pair of panties he found a few days after you two broke up. worn panties. they got lost behind the hamper most probably. the most normal thing would’ve been for him to wash them and give them to you, you were still around the house, packing your stuff, or to just throw them away. even so, he didn’t do that. he didn’t mention it to you, of course, but he kept them. he has them in your drawer. his drawer in reality, but he still calls it yours, where you used to keep your lingerie, as might be expected.

he stumbles into the bedroom, holding himself up by the edge of the dresser, and grabs the lace piece from the place it’s been ever since you left. his fingers brush over the soft material delicately, trying to remember the last time he saw you wearing them.

he sinks into the mattress not long after, bringing the panties up to his face instinctively. there’s still a trace of you lingering. he doesn’t just want his hand anymore, he wants you, the real you, except you’re not there.

nevertheless he’s gonna try his best to emulate it. he is so inebriated that maybe it could work. he flips over so his tummy is on the bed instead of his back, his cock brushing against the sheets as he switches his position, making him hiss at the haste contact. he reaches up to grab one of the pillows, slipping it under himself, right at the level of his pelvis, resting his face on one side on the bed. he starts moving his hips against it, the sensation so delicious he can’t help but squirm and dig his face deeper in the white sheets. at least those won’t be stained by the end of this. well they will, they just won’t be visible, and that’s enough for him to feel better about it. the pleasure he’s feeling only gets intensified when he sniffs your scent from the piece of fabric he’s holding up against his nose, delving into it deeper and deeper.

in his subconscious he knows he’s not actually fucking you, but it sure feels like it right now. his hips keep working, thrusting mindlessly, his cock grazing both the fabric and himself, as it is tucked in between his lower stomach and the cushion, the throbbing head stroking his tummy with every forward move he makes. he can barely feel it, as he’s gone a bit numb, but the precum is continuously leaking, making a mess on himself, the little silken hairs that trail down from his belly button to his pubic hair getting soaked, sticking to his skin.

he could cum already, but he holds on, like he would for you, to always get you there before him. he wraps the lace around his fingers, tangled up in his hand and bites down on it to muffle his sounds, still groaning, sending vibrations through his own skin. he can’t be moaning and especially he can’t be screaming your name at this hour.

he wants to cum inside you, well, in the made up version of you he made for himself. not thinking anymore he shamelessly slips his hand from his mouth down between his body and the pillow, wrapping his lace cladded palm around his throbbing cock and immediately whining from how the fabric feels rubbing over his foreskin, and over the extra sensitive exposed head. albeit very soft for a lace piece, it still feels rough on his cock, absolutely fucking amazingly rough. he’s thrusting his hips at a wild pace, all over the place, his hand stroking in tandem to meet each one.

he tightens his grip as if to simulate you contracting around him as you reach your orgasm and it drives him over the edge. he explodes all over the pillow, his hand, his belly. everywhere. his cum reaches everywhere from how he lifted his hips up as he reached his release, to be able to move his hand properly and practically milk himself, squeezing till the last drop leaves his pulsating cock, twitching in his palm as he comes down.

he wipes himself clean with your panties. ruined. he ruined them. why did he do this? he gets up and walks back to the bathroom to throw them away in the bin there, because it was the closest, but he can’t bring himself to do it. instead he cleans the sticky traces of himself the best he can and neatly folds them, putting them back in your drawer. he doesn’t care anymore, he knows it’s gross, but he can’t throw away the last piece of you he has.

before fully taking in what he’s just done and hating himself even more, he fixes the sheets, putting the pillow back in its place, on what used to be your side of the bed. of course he used your pillow.

he’s getting sleepy now that he came. well he did come before, but it wasn’t how it was supposed to be. he needs a smoke before bed, though he doesn’t want the smell to linger in the bedroom…but it’s cold outside, and he’s naked. he doesn’t want to put on any clothes, he’s perfect for bed as he is now, putting on clothes just to take them off again would be redundant…it’s late, everyone is probably sleeping. he doesn’t ponder on it for long, deciding to just say ‘fuck it’. he walks through his home, butt naked, till he gets to the balcony doors, quickly opening them and stepping out.

it’s colder than he expected. he can feel goosebumps forming from the stark difference of temperature, his warm house, and very hot body, in contrast with the sharp cold air of the late hours of the night.

he takes a cigarette out from the pack and lights it up, resting his arms on the railing, his soft frail dick brushing against the ice cold metal for just a second, making him hiss and his whole body shiver.

he takes his sweet time, forgetting about his surroundings, eventually going to bed without knowing how hard this is all going to hit in the morning.

a/n: idk…this has been in the drafts since november last year and it was supposed to be a lot different but it got to this.

tags: @4chaos @picturezonthewall @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @mathdebate00 @averyzversi0n @ouroboros311 @menace-to-the-devil @jqsvi @turnersfav

#alex turner #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner x reader #smut #goblinontour

248 notes · View notes

garfunklefield · 3 months

Note

Hi heres my request idea, Using fleshlight on handcuffed gojo satoru. Fem dom reader ^^

Vanilla Cream Pie

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/satoru gojo Warnings: fem!dom, sub gojo, male whimpering is PRESENT, degradation, fleshlight, light bondage, handcuffs, crying, multiple orgasms, nipple play, light choking, overstimulation Word count: 2226 words DESC: Satoru's punishment for not doing the dishes was simple. You were going to make him cum until he cries :D

Hiiiiii I hope you guys like this! I took some creative liberties idk I just love writing sub gojo. Us sub gojo girlies don't get fed enough I feel likeee <3 Check my pinned masterlist for more!!

“Is this really necessary?” Your lovely and very much in trouble husband asked as you clamped your pink handcuffs around his wrist. You took the chain and fed it through the top of your headboard, before putting the other handcuff on his other wrist. This ensured that he was totally and utterly trapped, with his hands hanging above his head.

Why, may you ask, were you handcuffing your husband to your shared bed at 9 p.m.? Very simple: you had asked him to do the dishes when you left for a girl's day out with your friends at 11 AM. You came back at 5 PM and they were not done, instead, he was napping haphazardly on the couch without a care in the world! So you decided to plot your revenge silently. What was the best way to make a man promise to always listen to you and not nap on your shared couch? Sexual torture!

That meant you were going to buy new pink handcuffs and the most expensive fleshlight you could find, courtesy of Satoru’s credit card. This will teach him to never mess with you again.

“You didn’t do the dishes,” you looked back down at him and smiled hollowly.

Satoru’s eyes widened and a nervous smile formed on his face, “I was going to do them right before you got back but I… got busy.”

“You fell asleep,” you stated blankly, “And now I’m making you pay.”

He frowned and huffed, blowing some hair out of his face as you made your way to his belt, “Well if you’re going to make me pay can you make me pay for an hour so I can go back to bed?”

You looked back at him and shot him a nasty look which to Satoru “I don’t know social cues” Gojo meant to continue egging you on, “This won’t even be torture anyway. I like getting tied up. It’s my secret fetish. That and the face you make when you’re soooo angy,” he teased mockingly.

Any sane person would give up or better yet slap him in the face at this point, but you knew better. You knew you wouldn’t cave because the results would be magnificent. Breaking him would be better than any other pleasure you could receive.

Without saying anything you pulled off his belt and tossed it to the side of his room, then got to work on undoing his jeans. He kept spitting nonsense just to get a rise out of you. The more you didn’t pay attention the more your husband kept going.

“Are you even listening to me?” His voice broke through your thoughts when he nudged your head with his own. You tilted your head to his own and smirked, leaning in and forcing him into a sloppy kiss. You never kissed your husband this way with no regard for him or his pleasure. You never kissed him like he was an object waiting to be used until he was no longer needed.

The fact you never did this made him mad because it … turned him on so much. Satoru tried to pull away to catch his breath and retort with some snarky claim about how you couldn’t get your hands off of him but instead, he was suffocated by your intoxicating tongue, lapping circles into his mouth.

You tilted your head to the side and felt as he kissed back weaker and weaker, not being able to handle the dominance radiating off of you.

How.

Pathetic.

Satoru “I’m the most dominant guy you’ll ever be with” Gojo couldn’t handle when you took charge in a make-out session? God, you could just laugh. You pulled back and grinned at his expression. His bottom lip was swollen and jutted out into a pout, with his eyes half-lidded and hazily staring at you.

“Pathetic little slut can’t even kiss back…” You teased gently, wiping the back of your hand against your slobbered-covered mouth.

“I didn’t re…realize you were gonna do it like that,” he looked away and leaned his head back against the headboard, blinking slowly.

“Today's gonna be just like that and if you can’t handle it…” You trailed off and lightly tapped your bottom lip, “I. Don’t. Care.” You’d like it even more if he couldn’t handle it because then it would make the torture all the more worth it.

Your dominant hand finally managed to pull off his jeans, then you yanked off his boxers to reveal a… throbbing cock. Just from a few kisses, he was already rock-hard and aching to be touched. It was almost cute. Without another word, you stood up and retrieved the expensive Fleshlight. It was perfect and realistic, but not as good as your pussy.

Satoru wouldn’t get the pleasure of feeling your tight walls today. No, because you couldn’t handle the amount of rounds you were going to put him through. This sex toy could though. It was pink, with a very realistic model of a vagina on the top.

Your husband eyed it warily, swallowing, “Um… I’ve never used a Fleshlight before like this.”

There’s a first time for everything, right? You crawled back onto the bed and after a quick few seconds of lubing up the toy, you grabbed a hold of his cock. Just at the base, you could feel it twitch in your grasp. It was begging to release all over you and you knew he was dying for it. Satoru wanted so badly to touch you and relieve his boner in the only way he knew how.

But today. Was. Different.

He was going to pay.

You gently moved the toy so his tip was edging the beginning of the slit, just playing with him before you sunk it down his length. Gojo made a faint gasp and stiffened the muscles in his legs. His eyes widened before he let out a sigh, “If this is a punishment, I don’t mind babe.”

You didn’t respond to that, carefully placing both hands on either side of the Fleshlight to move it up and down. Sure, you’d just let him think that, all he wanted. Let him think you’d fuck him until he was done. Let him think you wouldn’t milk him until he was sobbing for mercy. Let him be naive in his stupidity.

“H-hey,” Satoru murmured, staring down at his cock. You had begun to speed up your movements, hearing the faint noises coming from the toy and his cock. In and out, up and down. You knew exactly how it felt for him. Heaven. Heaven that he had no control over. Your husband leaned his head back and exhaled a shaky moan, his back giving in and arching when the Fleshlight was beginning to get to be too much. He hadn’t even cum yet and he was already this sensitive.

You didn’t give him time to continue his protests, as your mouth found his and your tongue invaded. You sucked onto his lips and used one spare hand to touch up and down his chest. Soft fingers traced circles around his sensitive nipples, flicking and pinching them just to get a rise out of him. He liked it very much. You could tell from the way he tried to break from the kiss to catch his breath. But instead, he was forced to kiss back and moan deep into your mouth.

“B..baby f-fuck … I’m mm I’m gonna,” Satoru whined as you pulled away, running the hand on his chest up to fondle his neck. You gave it a taut squeeze just to see what would happen. His reaction was a soft groan and his head leaning forward, to find your lips again to defeat his thirst for you.

“Aw… someone’s desperate, huh?” You cooed, moving your hand to grab his chin, “I didn’t say you could kiss me, did I? No. You’re not kissing me,” with that, you pushed his head back into the bedframe.

Gojo gasped and arched his back again, quickly forcing his eyes shut and letting out a loud whimper as you realized he was cumming. You didn’t stop the movement of the Fleshlight, instead, you decided to thrust it down on his cock harder. He bit his lip and lurched forward, his arms struggling against his restraints as another wave of pleasure hit him again.

“Ba-babe… st..stop w..mm hah- f-fuck… I’m.. mm..” His lips pressed together before forming an O shape, with his eyes coming together and rolling back until you saw nothing but the eye whites. Clearly, he had never been this overstimulated a day in his life. When you’d usually go multiple rounds, he’d always pull out to focus on you instead of continuing to thrust. Now you knew.

Satoru was struggling intently against the pink handcuffs, moving from arching his back to curling inwards. Anything to get the overpowering arousal to cease, just for a moment so he could catch his breath. But you weren’t backing away that easily. His hands clawed back at the headboard and his feet pressed against the mattress, but you simply used one arm to force one of his thighs down and the other to stroke his dick with the Fleshlight.

“Pathetic. You’re fucking pathetic. You can’t even handle getting fucked by a toy? You’re just gonna cry like a little bitch. It’s cute. But fucking pathetic,” you spat, staring at the “most dominant man you had ever dated” like he was a piece of meat. A piece of meat you wanted to touch… so badly.

You released your arm’s hold of his thigh and grabbed his neck, forcing him down into yet another kiss. He tried to pull away with a loud aroused sob. Your husband's cheeks were shining wet with fresh tears coming down from his eyes, but you didn’t bother to wipe them. You tightened your grip on his neck and watched another orgasm take over his face. As his eyes rolled back and his mouth shot open, letting his tongue loosely hang out the side of his bottom lip.

His body shook as he came again, his hips thrusting into the toy aimlessly like it would do anything to stop the pleasure. You could tell he was getting close to being completely done, but you weren’t finished. You continued to fuck him with the toy, moving your face to kiss him back on his open mouth. Satoru cried eagerly into your kiss and returned it weakly, barely able to keep up with how overstimulated he was becoming.

It was all too much for him to handle and it turned you on too, you couldn’t deny it, “Are you going to be a good boy and listen to me from now on? Do exactly what I ask, when I ask?” You asked condescendingly, angling yourself back from your husband to see his full body. He was convulsing under the force of the Fleshlight. Completely and utterly a shell of who he was a few moments earlier.

“Y-yes!” He sobbed out, throwing his head back and arching his back again, before he keeled forward into a hunched position, “Pl-please… I’m mm f..fuck I’m s-sorry… Pl..please I-I… I’m sorry!” Satoru cried and cried in a way you had never seen before. He was truly a pitiful little whore, just pleading for you to stop making him cum.

But you at least wanted him to cum for you one more time. Instead of kissing him harshly, you placed a few delicate kisses on his jaw as he wailed, fighting the handcuffs to be free and touch you. He gasped and leaned into the soft touch, with the Fleshlight still ramming into his cock.

“Pl..please,” he sniffed, burying his head into your neck when he found the chance, “Mm… I-I can’t…”

“Just one last time for me, okay?” You spoke, running your spare hand through his white hair, “Then I’ll let you be free from your punishment, baby.” Satoru nodded as you spoke, inhaling shakily and biting onto your shoulder for some kind of stability.

You let out a noise and pulled him in closer, just waiting for your lover to cum again. Just to hear him whimper and whine was music to your ears. It didn’t take very long before he started to convulse and cry out in painful pleasure. Gojo threw his head back again, with his eyes fluttering closed. He bit onto his bottom lip and let a few more tears roll down his cheeks, dripping down onto his bare chest.

“F-fuck… b-b..baby,” he whimpered, thrusting his hips forward once again as he rode out his orgasm. It must have been intense because he had stopped struggling at that point, giving in to your touch.

Once he had finally stopped moving, you took the Fleshlight off of his cock. All his cum came out, dribbling onto his lap and on parts of the mattress slowly as if it was coming out from a real pussy. You hadn’t considered this outcome but this would be something for later you to deal with. So you undid the handcuffs from your husband's wrists and watched him slowly slump down onto the mattress.

“Babe…” He croaked, staring up at you with a helpless expression before continuing, “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

137 notes · View notes

judasgot-it · 5 months

Note

Hiii! I suddenly had an idea like a vision or something tehee

imagine after a party (idk, hunting dogs celebrating another victory) and s/o’s feet hurt for her heels so tecchou noticing, carries her on his back. sorry if it was simple

btw Can i call you Judy and be 🪻anon?

You've gifted me a nickname and all I did was ignore you. I think the best thing that should be done is that I write your ask and that you beat me (jk please don't I'm just a writer. but ily flower anon that nickname is so sweet u have full use to call me it <3)

Scenario: Husband! Tecchou carries fem! reader around while at a party (TW for reader being a little drunk at some parts lol)

1 k words

Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Wiser

1:15 AM

The work party was still raging on.

Fukuchi and Teruko were screaming a duet into the karaoke machine, some sort of anime intro that Tachihara complained only old people would know.

Jouno was surprisingly still in the room, forcing some poor chef to make another batch of some overly complicated dish that apparently only Jouno could appreciate. There was a gun on the table, although surprisingly it wasn't pointed at anyone yet.

You could breathe a sigh of relief at that.

All you were looking for now was Tecchou. He had gone missing around half an hour ago, doing who knew what. He was the one thing keeping you alive at this party, considering how you were one or two drinks away from either passing out on the floor or just trying to take yourself home.

Your feet hurt, what else could you say? Maybe you were a little bit too drunk right now since you were sad over where you had placed your shoes. They were somewhere in the room, you were sure of it.

It was a really emotional endeavor, enough that you felt tears start to come to your eyes thinking about where you placed them. You tried to wipe them away the best you could, trying to not hit your face with the pair of shoes you were holding in your hands.

You walked across the room, hoping to find your husband in the crowd of very important government people whose names had lost you at that moment. Thankfully no one approached you, although maybe it was because they were all as messy as you were.

Tecchou was one of the tallest people there, and even on your tippy toes, you couldn't find his messy chestnut hair in the sea of heads. The feeling of panic started to settle quickly, your heart almost beating outside of your chest - your husband could be almost anywhere.

You turned around, feeling your tongue fall into your throat as you still couldn't locate your man. Wiping your wet eyes, you watched as a man approached you - tall, with messy chestnut hair.

Swallowing deeply, you tried to compose yourself as you saw his eyes land directly onto yours. Against your will, your eyes began to well up with tears once again.

Your feet guided you, rushing towards him like a bullet.

There was no thought as you wrapped your arms around him, your face buried down inside of his red suit. You sighed with relief as you felt your cold nose start to warm up against his body, the air you breathed our fanning against the cold skin on your cheeks as you nuzzled deeper onto him.

“Oh, there you are Angel.”

Two hands pulled at your arms, their warmth shocking your cold skin into goosebumps. His fingertips danced along your skin, callouses massaging your skin all the way up to your shoulders.

“I was looking for you. I was starting to think you got lost.”

You looked up as you said this, blinking innocently up into his honey eyes. He leaned his head a little bit away to stare at you, the tattoos on his cheek blending in with his long eyelashes.

Watching them twitch made your lips curve up, how they perfectly melted in together. You took one of your hands and pulled his face to look down at you properly, his brows pinching as he took in the full sight of you.

“You're so pretty Tecchou. Do you ever hear that?”

He smiled at those words, leaning closer into your hand.

“You told me that on our wedding night, actually.”

His brows pinched again, his gaze looking downward once again.

“Angel, why aren't you wearing your shoes?”

His words took a little to sink in, you still too busy watching how his beautiful face pulled apart as he said those words - the tattoos underneath his eye moving just underneath the small creases from his smile.

“Hmm… My feet hurt.”

You other hand lowered itself, cradling his waist as you swayed to the music that played throughout the room. It was easy to ignore the horrible singing that accomidated it, as you instead focused on the strong muscles that were barely consealed underneath Tecchou's suit.

He barely budges, only swaying slightly as he let you have your moment - watching you with hooded eyes. His steps were small, his heels clicking lightly against the tile of the dance floor.

“You know, if your feet hurt I can just carry you around.”

Stopping, you looked up at him, looking at his face carefully. His eyes held no lie, seeing as he was always a truthful man.

“Are you sure about that?” It was always polite to ask in your mind, even when you were challenging one of the strongest men you knew.

“I can lift twice your weight, you know that angel.“

A small smirk spread on his face as he said this, his eyes poring through your figure. His hands traveled down to your waist, squeezing you gently.

”I wouldn't break a sweat at all, if that's what you're worried about.“

You didn't have time to react as you stomach did twists, Tecchou manhandling you into a bride carry with ease.

”Oh my god, Tecchou!”

It was impossible to hide the joy in your words as he carried you, continuing the dance you had started earlier with ease. He hummed along softly to the song that still played, ignoring whatever wailing words were coming out of a horribly drunk Fukuchi's mouth at that moment.

It wouldn't ruin yours at the very least.

“What? I'm not going to let you walk around while your feet hurt.”

He danced with ease, completing a lazy waltz with you in his arms. His soft locks were lit up by the chandelier above, turned into a soft caramel from the light that shone through the strands. They stuck up in all sorts of directions, forming a creme brulee halo around his face.

You brought one of your arms to wrap around his neck, bringing your fingers to sift through the longer strangs of his hair. It was soft, almost an estactic feeling to have something so ethereal under your hand.

“You're so gorgeous.”

His face was closer to yours, his nose nearly brushing against yours. You giggled, stealing his air as you did so.

“I think you said that to me on our wedding night, handsome.“

His lips were pressed against yours, his handsome face blocking your vision for the rest of that night.

#Idk why im thinking i have a very feminine voice while writing #not bad i think i guess its just a thing i have #idk i use this account to try to improve my writing and this is something i think ive noticed #i might try more scenarios that are based around actions cuz i lack a lot in that area #anyway i wrote half of this to the nutcracker btw so if it seems cheesy its cuz it is someone take tecchou fluff away from me #im rambling here tbh #tecchou x reader #tetcho x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x y/n #tecchou x you #tetchou x reader #tecchou bsd #tecchou x y/n #tetcho x reader

116 notes · View notes

peachyogurtwithchocolate · 4 days

Text

Harvey SDV Headcannons

-----------------------------

A/N: Hey there!! Im very new to actually writing on Tumblr so i just wanted to give a little warning.

I absolutely love it when people reblog my stuff so feel free to! All I ask is that you don't claim my stuff as your own.

And obviously as with all fanfics, these are just my opinions!

Word Count: (idk, I was too lazy to check)

Warnings: None!

-----------------------------

Before Dating (Friends)

I feel like Harvey doesn't communicate super well with friends. Obviously I know that he can only have so many lines in the game but even when he does speak to the farmer, its ALWAYS about work.

Lets face it: Harvey definetly isnt the bravest. But when he doesnt see you a couple of hours after you say youre going into the caves, there he goes, up into the mountains past Robin's house.

When Harvey finds you passed out in the mines, he freaks out internally. He tries to keep himself composed but you can tell by his sweaty palms and flustered appearance.

Harvey is very adamant about you having regular check-ups (and everyone else in Pelican Town, of course). Like this man will not leave you alone until he does the basics, such as taking your blood pressure and hearing for an irregular heart pattern.

Harvey is very awkward when it comes to gift giving. If he were to get the farmer as a secret friend at the Feast of the Winter Star, he would freak out.

After literal HOURS of searching through Pelican Town, I feel like he would settle on something simple like a wine, candle, or soft blanket.

If the farmer were to give him a gift at the Feast of the Winter Star that he LOVES, he woulf absolutely melt. He thinks its so emdearing to have a friend in Pelican Town that genuinely took the time to listen to him and pick out the perfect gift

-----------------------------

Falling in Love/Dating

While on the topic of the Feast of the Winter Star, I think that a gesture such as you giving him his favorite gift would make him realize that there was something between you

When he realized that he was falling in love, he distanced himself slightly. Harvey is totally the type of person who would never really think about the idea of love until he was faced with it. He probably had no idea what to do and just chose to ignore it for a while.

Harvey doesnt have the heart to just ghost the farmer, however, so eventually it comes to the point where every hangout just gets a little uncomfortable and awkward.

Once Harvey worked up the guts (yes that was a Dr. joke), he would ask the farmer out. It would start as a normal hangout, walking past the fountain near the community center. After a while, he wohkf convince you to take a walk up past the mountain and near the train station. A bouquet of flowers had been waiting for you at the end of the walk. Once Harvey had gotten over his anxiety, he would confess to you in a small speech that he had memorized. As soon as you said yes, he was a blushing mess.

If the famer got around to asking him first, however, Harvey would almost be embarrassed in a way if that makes sense. Deep down he knew that he didnt have the confidence to ask you out, but he still feels a little awkward about it.

After a short and sweet "yes" from him, you too were literally inseperable. Like I'm talking holding hands no matter what and sharing small pecks on the cheeks when nobody is looking.

Overall, falling in love with Harvey is a very sweet and wholesome experience filled with many awkward moments along the way.

#harvey x reader #harvey stardew valley #sdv harvey #stardew harvey #fanfic #sdv farmer #sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley x farmer #stardew valley x reader #stardew farmer #stardew

71 notes · View notes

ohblitz0 · 1 year

Text

sugar - agent whiskey

pairing: jack ‘agent whiskey’ daniels x fem reader

summary: basically porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot. guys this is my first time really writing some smut so lmk what you guys think!

word count: 3.5k

warnings: maybe a bit ooc?? idk. (18+) smut u filthy animals. unprotected p in v. (wrap it before you tap it!) language, dirty talk, rough sex, fingering, bondage and I think that's it?

Your life had been pretty mundane before you were lucky enough to get a stable job at a company called Statesman. Statesman was a company that sold the finest whiskey in the United States and just so happened to be an undercover spy organization. Life wasn’t so dull anymore. How you found yourself here was a long story but even if hard to admit– there was some pretty eye candy at your disposal.

Your job wasn’t too tricky. You had plenty of things to do like paperwork, let's see... More paperwork– some combat training which was fun and then dealing with Mr. Agent Whiskey. You’d be lying if you said you hated it but nobody had to know how you truly felt about the matter. You liked to keep that your little secret. After all, Jack didn’t need his ego flattered anymore than it already was. The constant smirking and cockiness that basically evaporated off of him was a lot to handle at first but you got used to it– even enjoyed it. You couldn’t help it after spending so many hours with the man, you eventually developed some affection for him. The constant flirting, the damned pet names, and that handsome face were enough to reel you in. You also admired how hard working he was, all those late nights spent together investigating for missions, you saw how he took pride in his work.

Speaking of late nights at the office.

Your fingers rubbed at your temple trying to soothe the dull ache that would soon become a migraine if you didn’t take a break from reading and sorting out so much paperwork. The sun had set a long time ago but you were still there. Trying to prepare for tomorrow's assignment. You weren’t alone, Jack had stayed behind as well. You could see his office clearly, the light still on, just across from where your desk was on the outside. During regular shift hours, when the building was full of life, you would exchange many words with him but on nights like these both of you were as quiet as a mouse. Sighing, you looked at your now empty coffee cup and contemplated asking Jack if he would like a cup on your way to make yourself one. You felt silly for being shy all of the sudden, you’ve known him for quite a while now but simple acts like this seemed far more intimate?

“You got this,” you murmured quietly as you grabbed your cup and slowly walked towards his office. You could see his shadow sitting on his desk through the privacy-stained glass and your heart skipped a bit. Once you made it to his door you knocked softly before entering.

“Come in.” you heard the muffle of that sweet southern drawl before opening his door and standing on the threshold with a small smile. God– he looked handsome. His cowboy hat was set aside on his desk, hair slightly disheveled but still as handsome as ever.

“Still here, darlin’?” he said with a cat-like grin, a small chuckle following after as he leaned back into his chair, arms crossed. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eye gave you once over before licking his lips. You nodded with a small laugh, fingers grasping your mug tightly, taking a step inside his office now.

“Was wonderin’ if you’d like a cup as well? I don’t know about you but I needed a pick-me-up.”

He hummed before getting up from his seat, walking around and towards you. He gently grasped your mug from your hands, you could feel his warmth just by the brush of his fingers and it sent a shiver down your spine. As he grabbed the mug he leaned back against his desk before setting it down. There was a small puzzled look on your face, lips slightly parted in loss of words before he filled the silent void for you.

“How about we just take a breather, you and me? How’s that sound, sweetheart?” his voice sounded as gentle as ever, but you felt some tension in the air now. Maybe, it was because you didn’t know if you should sit down or not, you felt glued to your spot.

“Sounds... Sounds fine,” you murmured almost breathlessly, maybe it was the fatigue taking over, your normal bubbly personality dying down and what was left was just bashfulness. You clasped your fingers together, a small smile on your face, your eyes diverting from his for a moment, seeing his whip and lasso still attached to his hip. You wondered why he still had those on, the day was over and this was definitely not a combat situation. You might have been staring too long because the husk of that southern accent awoke you from your thoughts.

“Like what you see, baby?”

A small scoff left your lips, “Cocky as ever aren’t you–” your words were soon caught in your throat as you felt him grasp your wrist and pull you into him. Perfectly fitting between his legs, his free hand grasping your chin gently. You felt heat rise upon your cheeks from this newfound proximity, your feet trying to pull you back but failing due to Jack pulling you right back in.

“What the hell!”

“Is that any way to talk to your superior?” His voice was deep and strong. This wasn’t the sweet, playful voice you had been used to. This was different. You felt intimidated and shocked, and you felt that familiar warmth spread inside you. This was so out of the blue, you still couldn't fully register what had happened. Lips parting, words on the tip of your tongue but failing to come out. Of course, Jack was your superior, you were his right hand but the dynamic was always playful, and he was rarely ever stern with you. Your quietness wasn’t appreciated as his hand moved from the gentle grasp of your chin down to the side of your neck, forcefully pulling you closer to him. Your nose was almost touching his as he spoke.

“Do I need to repeat myself, sugar?”

“No– No.” you stammered out weakly, eyes staring into his own, trying to understand where this all came from. “No, what?” His voice was sharp, and mean, and it made you shiver.

“No, sir.”

He hummed in approval, both of his hands moving to grasp both of your hands gently. The contrast between rough and gentle demeanor was driving you insane– you loved it. He stood up off his desk, hands still holding yours as he stared down at you. “Tell me to stop.” He whispered, eyes searching yours for any signs of discomfort, reluctance, disgust, anything. He was asking for permission and it made you feel safe. He felt safe. Of course, that was the bare minimum but it meant the world to you, especially coming from someone you had admiration for. A smile formed on your face before you spoke.

“It’s okay Jack.” You whispered, body subconsciously leaning towards him more, feeling his warmth and wanting more. You could smell his scent, aroma filled with his cologne, smoke, and whiskey. It was addicting. He nodded, humming in satisfaction before he abruptly swung you around. Now you were in front of his desk and him behind you.

“Hm, I don’t think it’s okay at all, darlin’. Every day I come to work, here you are all dolled up and I’m just dying to have a taste.” His hand pushed at your back, your hands flying forward bracing yourself against the desk. Sliding his hand further down, pressing against your spine making you press your body fully onto the desk. Your cheek flushed against the wood, hands flat on the surface. Your chest heaved, feeling your breath pick up, you could feel yourself already soaking wet for him.

“And these dresses? Oh, babydoll.” He said with a ‘tsk’ hand grasping the ends of your dress and hiking it up. You were definitely glad you wore some cute underwear today. You heard a small groan behind you, trying to tilt your head to see him but failing because of his hand that had trailed down to keep you in place. A whimper slipped past your lips as you felt his hand cup your sex. His thumb pressed against the folds, feeling your arousal coat your underwear. Your thighs closed in on his hand from the blissful feeling. A rough ‘No’ was heard from behind you, his knee pressing between your legs and spreading them apart to gain more access.

His body leaned over your own, his other hand pressed beside your head now bracing himself above you. His fingers moved your panties aside, fingers generously circling around that spot you needed the most attention from. He alternates between a slow pace, to fast, to slow, and it is beginning to drive you insane. Tears brimming your eyes, eyes lashes wet, you're pretty sure your mascara was running down your face. A complete mess under his touch. Then suddenly you felt a finger pressed inside you, filling up that empty ache.

“Mm, please…” you gasped out almost pathetically, already drunk on his simple touches.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll give you what you need. You’ve been so good after all.”

Another finger was added. Then another. Three thick fingers filled you almost too perfectly. There was a slight tinge of pressure but you invited the pain. You couldn’t help but circle your hips around his fingers, adjusting to the feeling of being so full of him. It was just his fingers and it had you unfolding before him already. All you could hear was your heavy panting, small whimpers of pleasure, and his sultry voice in the quiet building. This was your place of work, where you now had a man plunging his fingers inside your pussy at a delicious pace. Now every time you’d walk in for work, you’d remember that feeling and the thought made you even wetter.

You began to feel that pleasurable release build up inside of you, your eyes were beginning to flutter closed before you felt your hair being tugged, craning your face to look upon the man before you.

“Eyes on me, sugar.” His voice rasped, his lips ghosting over your jaw before kissing it gently. Your eyes stayed open after that, trying your best to remain eye contact as he thrust his fingers at a rapid pace now. You mewled at the feeling, that delicious build-up was near and your walls clenched around his fingers tightly. All you could really focus on was the feeling, the wet noises of your arousal, and his deep voice littering you with praise.

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

“Look at you. Such a pretty little mess from just my fingers, huh?”

“Scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar.” And then you felt it hit you, your legs shook and your thighs desperately wanted to press together from the overwhelming feeling but were unable to because of Jack’s knee keeping you spread open for him. His name tumbled from your lips, a small whimper following as your hips circled and rode out your high.

He pulled away slowly, his fingers leaving your wet hole, as he stood up towering over your body. You slowly turned yourself around, knees wobbling, as you leaned up against his desk. Your eyes couldn't help but wander down and see the large bulge straining against his tight denim jeans. You watched as one of his hands, you guessed the one that was just in you– fingers glistening with reminisce of your release, grasped his belt buckle and began to undo it swiftly.

“Hm, I think you're ready for real fun now, darlin’.” He said, a devilish grin gracing his face as he walked back to his desk chair. You noticed he was still holding his belt, his whip still attached to it. You followed suit as you heard him tell you– “Come here.” in a gentle tone. Your legs felt so weak, still shaken from your last orgasm but your arousal was still there. You wanted more– needed more.

He looked undeniably sexy sitting before you. Thick thighs spread wide for you allowing you to stand between them. “Take it off, sweetheart.” He said, eyeing your dress as he went for his tie loosening it. Your hands pulled your dress off, leaving you in your undergarments. Your chest heaved up and down from your soft breaths, fingers grasping the back of your bra as you unclasped it boldly. It was silly how heat filled your cheeks as your chest was now bare before his eyes after what just happened minutes before. Now fully naked before him after pulling your last garment off you stepped closer to Jack. His arm wrapped around your waist pulling you to straddle his lap, the roughness of his jeans scraping against your warm skin.

Your eyes stared back at his brown ones, a small smile grazing your lips as your delicate fingers grasped his face. Noses brushed against each other as a small giggle left your lips making a smile etched on his face. Finally, your lips met his soft ones in a gentle kiss. His mustache tickles your upper lip but you didn't mind one bit. Foreheads pressed together as the kiss broke, breathing each other in as you caressed his jaw sweetly.

“To answer your question from earlier– I do like what I see,” you murmured upon his lips, pressing them against his once more for another quick kiss. He chuckled, one that was deep and rumbled in his chest. Biting your lip to contain yet another smile from that sweet sound.

“Such a good girl, huh?” his hand pressing into the small of your back, pushing you closer to his body if it was even possible. Your eyes fell curious on his other hand that still grasped his belt. Holding it in front of you, his other hand now grasping your wrists together, you had an idea where this was going and weren't mad about it one bit. Your heartbeat quickened as he began to wrap the belt around your wrists tightly. “So good.” His murmured praise made your cheeks flush and your cunt drip arousal down your legs. Once the belt was secure, your eyes fell down as you watched him pull his cock free from his jeans.

Fuck. He was huge. How was he even hiding that thing in his pants? It was long and the girth was thick. His hand stroked his length a couple times, thumb grazing his tip that leaked pre-cum. He saw that surprised look on your face, making him grin and a small chuckle leaves his lips. You noticed he held his whip still, now setting it on his desk. “Maybe, we'll use that next time.” You heard him murmur which perked up your ears. Thinking about the next time made your heart flutter.

“You gonna take it like the good girl you are, hm?” So enthralled by him, your parted lips failed to answer him as you watched him begin to push his tip inside you. Suddenly you felt a sting along your ass from him slapping it, the skin beginning to turn red from the impact. A loud gasp left your lips from the action, your bound hands resting along one of his shoulders trying to find purchase.

“Answer when I talk to you, darlin’. Understood?” He said, his voice rough as he plunged the rest of himself inside you.

“Fuck! Yes.. I’ll be good!” You whimpered out from the sudden fullness. It was like the wind got knocked out of you. Your walls clenched around his cock tightly, trying to get used to this new feeling. His hands rested on your hips, rocking them back and forth slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Once the small sting began to vanish and was now filled with mostly undying pleasure, your pace began to pick up.

Your bound wrists went over his hand, fingers grasping the nape of his neck as you rutted your hips into him. His lips attacked the side of your neck as you swayed your hips against him, moaning and panting his name like a song.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he grunted, his hot breath fanning over your skin sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers still grasped your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips helping you keep your steady pace. “Doing so well, taking all of me. Knew you could do it. That sweet cunt was made for me, wasn’t it?” And it truly felt like it did, it fit so well inside you, snug, and hit all the right places.

That familiar sound of your wetness and skin connecting on skin filled the room along with heavy breathing and Jack’s foul mouth.

“Yes! Mm.. just for you.” You moaned, hips stuttering as you felt that heat pool into your core, that delicious build-up close once more. Your chin was able to rest on top of his head from this angle and you rutted into him. His face was pressed into your breasts, lips latching onto one of your lips, sucking and kissing the soft flesh. His hands gripped your hips roughly, stalling your movements before he lifted his own and started thrusting into your hole at a killing pace. A scream left your lips, a shriek from the sudden brutal pace as you held onto him. Your walls began to clench around him, your orgasm almost reaching its peak.

“You gonna come for me, baby?”

“God, yes... Please.”

“I’m close, baby. Come with me, sweetheart–” he grunted as he continued his brutal pace. You whined his name, like a plea, as you pressed yourself back down on him, circling your hips and bouncing on his cock. Your walls clenched down on him like a vice grip as you came, mewling in bliss as your head fell against his shoulder. Your thighs shook as your body slumped into his. His hips began to stutter and with a few more hard thrusts his seed filled your swollen hole. His hands guided your hips in a lazy circle against his cock, riding out his high, the actions made you cry out from the sensitivity.

“I know, sugar. Sh, I got ya.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes. His cock is still buried inside you as he unravels your wrists. The skin was red and swollen but you didn’t care. You liked that he marked you in some way. He placed gentle kisses along your face as he moved your hair away from your face.

“Did so well for me. Like you always do,” he whispered against your lips before connecting them with your own in a lazy but sweet kiss. And that phrase had so much meaning to it. You have always been by his side since you got hired here. Every mission, every wound was tended to, the hardships and all that shitty paperwork. You were there. And after tonight, the two of you changed. A fire was ignited and those shied feelings now were in the open.

────────────

Of course, this would happen to you. After last night you went home, of course fully satisfied, and slept like a fucking baby halfway through your important briefing for the next mission that you were supposed to be preparing for the night before. You were in a frantic mess all morning, hurrying to get ready and grab all your shit before bolting out the door and driving to work. Your mind was still in a haze from the night before and your cheeks flushed as you stepped into the building and headed toward the elevator. The top floor is where the magic happens. Literally.

You took a deep breath before exhaling, trying to ease your anxiety from being late and elevate the embarrassment you felt for being late. It wasn’t like you. But of course, one single touch from that goddamn agent that you are spiraling. You decided that you’d put the blame on the handsome man. After all, he did fuck you till you were seeing stars.

As you walked in, a fellow coworker eyed you with a knowing look. ‘You’re in for it’ her face said as he nodded towards the briefing room where now only Jack Daniels himself sat. You sighed, walking in and shutting the door behind you. Setting your folder down on the table you clasped your hands in front of you, finding it hard to look at him at this point. Before you could get a word out, that familiar southern drawl filled the air.

“Tsk, and I thought you were a good girl? Looks like that reward got to your head, sugar.” He chuckled with a shake of his head, grinning at the way your cheeks turned red. A little embarrassed that your coworkers were right outside as he said those words.

“Jack— I'm sorry really—“ you began to say before he shook his head once more with a whistle. His figure stood up from his seat as he began to stalk over you like prey.

“Y’know actions speak louder than words, beautiful. I’m gonna need you to show me just how sorry you are, baby.” He finished as he stood in front of you now, toe to toe, a finger grasping your chin. At that moment you truly realized just how different things would be.

#pedro pascal #pedro x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey #kingsmen secret service #kingsmen golden circle #smut #tlou smut #joel miller

946 notes · View notes