#no more darts for peter

[marvelfilth]

Jealous girl (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: secret relationship, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, fingering, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Natasha's in her 30s), praise, pet names, orgasm denial

Summary: your best friend Peter needs help, Natasha's not happy about it at all.

Masterlist

You're standing in the kitchen when it happens.

Peter barges in, his hair a tangled mess, his sweatshirt inside out. You jump away from Natasha's arms, making her spill her protein shake. She shoots him a dirty look, her lips curling up upon registering his disheveled state.

You try to keep the annoyance from showing on your face, but you know you're doing a terrible job when Peter winces apologetically, throwing a bag full of Ben and Jerry's on the counter.

"Code red," he pants.

You straighten immediately, trying to shoo Natasha away with a look, but, instead of leaving, she makes herself comfortable on the counter with an excited glint in her eyes.

You've been friends with Peter ever since he ran you over with his bike in kindergarten, leaving you with a tiny scar on your shin, and a fear of any two-wheeled object. Your friendship grew over the years, and soon enough you were joined at hip, going to the same school and college, tagging along on his patrols, mainly to keep him out of the police radars.

"What's wrong?" You ask, fearing the worst. "Is Venom acting up again? Is it Felicia? I swear to God, if it's her again I'm gonna-"

That's when you decided to make a secret code to help you stay under the radar. In hindsight, you could've thought of something more elaborate than code red, code green and code yellow, but neither of you had enough brain power for that.

"It's MJ!" He cuts you off, shifting on his feet.

You stammer, looking at Natasha for help, but she appears equally puzzled. "I didn't think she had it in her, to be honest," she says, taking a sip of her shake.

"What?" Peter yelps, before jumping up, his hands flying up in an X motion. "No! She's not- No! She's not a villain, or a criminal, or anything like that."

You decide you've had enough of his blabbering, so you take hold of his shoulders and corner him against the counter. "What is it, Peter?"

He takes a deep breath, his cheeks painted crimson, and blurts out, "I really need you to kiss me."

You jump away like you've been burned, shooting an alarmed look to Natasha, but she doesn't register it, her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, her knuckles white from the grip she has on her protein shake. You think you can hear it creak.

You turn back to look at your best friend, who's blissfully unaware of your relationship with the most dangerous person in this building, just like everyone else on the team.

Natasha's reluctance to share her love life with her teammates came to bite her in the ass.

"No, wait. That came out wrong." He winces, his eyes darting to Natasha. You can hear him gulp when their eyes meet.

"I think you were pretty clear, Parker," she gritts, jumping off the counter, and comes to stand behind you, hovering over your shoulder.

You send him an encouraging look, taking hold of Natasha's hand behind your back.

"I have a date with MJ-"

"Doesn't explain why you need my- Y/n to kiss you."

You shoot her a warning look. "Let him finish."

Her jaw clenches, but she relents, nodding to the boy to continue.

He looks like he regrets every life choice that led him to this moment.

"Okay, so. I have a date with MJ, and I planned it all out, right? But… um… there's a problem." He clasps his hands, thumbs fiddling. You stay silent in fear of him closing off, and patiently wait for him to continue. "I've never had a girlfriend before, and I've been kissed twice, if you count that one time when Ned fell on top of me and kind of swallowed my face." Natasha snorts, and Peter blushes deep red, his eyes pleading. "I need practice because otherwise I'll just embarrass myself, and she'll hate me forever."

You feel Natasha tense up again, and you're ready to ask her to leave, but she beats you to it, speaking up before you could open your mouth. "I don't think MJ would like you kissing someone else right before your date." Her tone is even, carefully emotionless, but you feel the way her breathing shakes slightly, her grip on your hand tightening.

Peter looks at you, brows set in confusion. "But it's Y/n, she doesn't count as someone!" You huff, indignant. He winces, but goes on. "I could ask Ned, but I don't think he has any experience, so please, please do this for me?"

You turn around to face Natasha. "Can you leave us?"

Her eyes narrow, lips curled. "You're not kissing him." Her hands land on your waist possessively, and you're suddenly turned around. She lowers her chin to your shoulder, lips grazing the shell of your ear as she speaks, "Listen to me very carefully, Parker."

Peter gulps, and takes a step back, his eyes wide and alert.

"You're going to leave and find someone else to help with your little problem. We'll pretend this conversation never took place, and you'll never even think about kissing Y/n again. Am I being clear?" She almost growls, her eyes flashing.

Peter nods dumbly, before hurrying to the door. He stops halfway to shoot you a bewildered look over his shoulder. "Wait… Are you two-"

"Out, Parker," Natasha barks, her face half buried in the crook of your neck. You blush, and wave your friend goodbye, grateful when he disappears behind the door without any further questions.

"Tasha," you whine, turning in her hold. "That wasn't necessary."

She scoffs, and picks you up with practiced ease, settling you on the counter and taking place between your parted thighs. "Yes it was." She sucks at the tender skin just below your collarbone, leaving a stinging bruise. "I can't believe you wanted me to leave." She squeezes your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Her mouth is all over your neck - sucking, biting and licking, claiming. You're sure no amount of concealer will be enough to hide the marks.

"Natty," you whimper, "he's my friend, I wanted to talk some sense into him."

She hums, the skin on the underside of your jaw pulled between her teeth. "I did the same thing, no?" Her fingers sneak past the waistband of your shorts, but you're quick to catch her wrist.

"What are you doing?" You look around, panting heavily. "What if someone walks in?"

"Daddy," you moan, pushing her face lower. Her fingers feel so heavenly that you don't even care about anyone walking in - you need her tongue, now. "Please."

You're pushed flat against the counter then, your back on the cold marble, your ass hanging right off the edge. Your fingers disappear in her tresses when she bends down to place a kiss on your clothed cunt.

"Let them see who you belong to," she murmurs, entering your aching core. You bite back a moan, arching in her hold, your pussy clenching around her long digits. Fleeting kisses are placed all over your stomach, her fingers curling inside your heat.

She chuckles, gently biting on your hip bone. "So needy already? I barely started." She adjusts the angle, fastening the pace, but your shorts get in the way, making you huff impatiently.

"Take them off, please," you whimper, clenching around her.

"And when someone walks in, and sees you spread wide open, what then? You think I'd allow anyone to see this pretty pussy?" Her fingers scissor inside you, stretching your walls.

"N-no."

"That's right," she hums, "because it belongs to me." She pulls out to land a short slap on your slit. "Perfect little hole for daddy to play with."

She teases your folds, collecting wetness before pushing her fingers into your mouth. You eagerly suck them in, letting her fuck your mouth, tips of her fingers pushing against your throat. "Such an obedient girl," she murmurs, dark eyes fixated on your lips. You squirm, hips rocking against her abdomen with desperate need of release.

She pulls out her fingers, smearing your slick mixed with spit over your chin.

"I need you," you whine, catching her wrist and leading her hand lower, your panties sticking to your drenched cunt.

She takes the fabric in her fist, and tugs it up, making it press against your pulsing clit. You moan loudly, throwing your head back. She kneads your supple breast with her other hand, and you arch into her, pulling her closer to your aching core with your hips.

"We'll tell everyone tonight," she murmurs against your lips. "But right now you need to be a good girl and take everything daddy gives you."

You nod, feeling your pussy clench around nothing, begging for Natasha's fingers to return. She tugs on your lower lip with her teeth and plunges three fingers inside, hitting a spongy spot deep in your heat. You arch off the counter, pressing against her front, your legs clenched hard around her hips. She grunts lowly, setting a slow pace, making sure to explore your pussy with each thrust, collecting your wetness when she pulls out only to push it back inside. You bury your face in her shoulder, your fingers disappear in her hair, tugging at the tresses.

"Good?" She whispers against your ear, spreading her fingers inside, her thumb firm on your clit.

You gasp, and bite down on the muscle of her shoulder, nodding with your eyes clenched shut. "S-so good, daddy."

She hums, her full lips pulling in a smirk, and starts circling your pulsing nub. You throw your head back, moaning loudly, and she takes the opportunity to paint your neck purple, sucking on the tender skin hard enough to leave bruises.

"M'gonna… I'm gonna come," you whimper when she hits your sweet spot, making your toes curl.

"Did I say you could, babygirl?" She chuckles into your neck, making sure to hit the spot with each thrust. You shake your head, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows in effort to stop your approaching orgasm, your body as tense as a drawn bowstring. "That's right, baby," she cooes, kissing the corner of your mouth, "you're not allowed to."

Your heart drops to your stomach, torn between wanting to be Natasha's good girl and giving in to the pleasure. “Please, please let me…” you whine, buckling against her hand.

She pulls away, her eyes level with yours, and you want to sob from how good she feels inside you, your pussy clenching around her slender fingers.

“You’ll hold it for me,” she says, “and I'll make up for it later tonight.” You almost huff in frustration, knowing that you'll have to walk around the Compound painfully wet for the rest of the day.

She grabs your jaw, seemingly reading your thoughts. “And don't even think about touching yourself.”

She pulls away abruptly and tugs you off the counter before fixing your shorts and stepping away. You blink rapidly, disoriented by the sudden change, your pussy aching in the sweetest way.

Sam enters the kitchen a second later.

You subtly wipe your mouth clean, and even out your breathing while he rummages the upper shelves. Natasha's eyes glint with mischief as she slowly wipes her fingers with a paper towel.

"You up for a training session?" She asks Sam, and you shoot her a furious look. Your glare does nothing to the redhead, as she continues watching you silently, a teasing smirk pulling at her mouth.

Sam scoffs, looking between you two. "Like you weren't about to get nasty two seconds ago."

Natasha chuckles, her eyes flashing. "About to? You need to work on your observation skills, Wilson."

Sam stills, his eyes darting between you two, and you look away, knowing that nothing could hide your red cheeks and bruised lips.

He chokes on his water the moment he sees your neck. "Damn, Romanoff," he gasps, coughing. "Right here?! This is a sacred place! I cook here!"

Natasha hums, shrugging carelessly. "I eat here," she retorts, and you can tell by the crinkles near her eyes she's about to say something that's gonna make you want to bury yourself. "Actually, I was about to devour something really delic-"

"Natasha!" You shriek, tugging her away from the kitchen, but not before quietly apologizing to Sam.

She laughs quietly, following you to the bedroom. "I think we're banned from the kitchen now."

She thinks. You scoff, shaking your head. Trust Natasha to go from a full secrecy mode to telling every living soul about your sex life.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x reader #black widow smut #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x you

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

ok I gotta get this off my chest: dresses made for women who are history enthusiasts (or cottagecore, or royalcore) are often juvenile-looking. like, yes, your model does look like she stepped out of an updated interpretation of the 19th century. but as a 7-year old girl.

now obviously you need the right undergarments to pull off any adult period silhouette and most of us aren’t trying to. I’m just saying all the cuts of these “vintage” dresses are specific to children in those eras. it’s like they decided that because the period silhouette isn’t possible to achieve in the modern day, they’ll just go for no mature silhouettes at all.

#- HK #LinenNaive and Little Women Atelier especially do this #I just want high quality garments in timeless fits that don’t make me look like more of a little girl than I already appear to be #at 4’11 with a babyface #mobile #x #i want to see tailored vests and darts and pieces that -flatter- a woman #not just hang off her in a display of copious natural fabric #and I mean if that’s your thing if you’re into peter pan collars and looking like Samantha from American Girl that’s fine too #or Laura Ingalls or Amy March #but it’s like. the only thing out there. short of just buying an antique #LinenNaive is certainly the lesser of two evils here but even so none of their pieces are designed to flatter #they all appear intentionally oversized and their models are always drowning in the fabric

[sim0nril3y]

Meet the Family

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon has the joy of meeting your family and finding out why don't you see or talk about them all that much. This brings up some unwanted memories and feelings for him too. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), family drama, shouting, very small mention of Simon's childhood, family disapproval, family arguing, reader has family, reader has siblings, family names are established but no descriptions, canon-typical swearing.

It appeared that your phone was making more of a ruckus than usual later. It seemed to buzz and beep much more frequently, each time your eyes cast down to check it they narrowed, then rolled before you pushed the device far, far away from where you had to interact with it. Yet still it actively vied for your attention. “Everything okay, babe?” Simon quizzed, pulling the cork out of the wine he’d chosen and beginning to pour you a glass. “Fine.” You short answer replied, picking up the glass and taking a large gulp.

Taking a seat opposite Simon battled internally about whether to push this conversation anymore. He wondered, if the situation was reversed if you would have tried to get more information out of him. Bloody hell. You would. “I just couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little… upset by your phone.” Nodding his head in the direction of the device. “Is something up?”

For a moment you paused, mauling over the situation for a moment before letting out a low huff and answering. “My sister is having a ‘get-together’ for her anniversary…” You announced with a heavy amount of disdain in your voice. “We’ve been invited.” Of course, you’d mentioned your family before but until this point Simon had never met them and the opportunity had never been there. “Honestly, I’m surprised I’m invited Anna said it’ll just be close family…”

“Well, I guess you count as close family considering you’re her sister, love.” Simon pointed out and you let out a low huff again. “Who else is going to be there?” “My mum and dad. My little brother Peter. Obviously, my older sister Anna, her husband Barney and their son Hunter.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that. It would be a lot of your family to meet at once. “And do you… want to go?”

Again, you didn’t have a response right away, eyes darting away before back towards him. “I… I don’t know…” Then shaking your head. “Anna is begging me to come, but I know that is only to get the heat off her because if I’m there then all my parent’s attention will fall to me and they will explain exactly where I’ve gone wrong with my life.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that comment, he didn’t like the thought of your family speaking poorly of you. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. “Would… you want to go?” The question came out tiny and vulnerable, like you might scare him off with that alone.

“They know about me?” Simon quizzed, he’d never met them and he’d never really pressed to do that, he was in love with you and that was all he needed in his life. “They do…” You replied evenly. “They don’t approve... It isn’t because of you.” You quickly add with wide eyes. “They don’t approve of anyone outside of the family. They hated any girl that Peter brought home and they tolerate Barney, but that is only because they gave them a grandchild to fawn over.” You explained before frowning. “Si, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to come…”

For a moment he mauled over his options, he could go and accept whatever snide comments and berating came from your family, or he could send you to the wolves and stay home like a coward. Simon Riley was not a coward. “Tell her we’ll be there.” He leaned over to clink his glass against her own.

It was a bit of a drive to Anna’s home she shared with her husband and their son, but that gave you plenty of time to fill in all the dirty details about your family. You had started with your older sister, she was seen as the golden child and your parents bragged about almost everything that she did, her perfect marriage, her perfect children, her perfect house and her perfect holiday home. You explained, Anna had gone to a top University to study finance, but during her gap year galivanting about the US she’d met Barney who’d promptly fallen in love with her and got her pregnant. This wouldn’t typically be too big of a problem, apart from the fact that Anna been engaged before setting off and in a desperate need to escape the monotony of her relationship and her perfect life she’d thrown it all away from another lad.

It was a blow to her parents that their perfect eldest daughter had this mishap, however the fact that Barney came from an incredibly wealthy family and owned his own tech company certainly helped ease him into the family. Then their grandson Hunter came into the picture and everything was a perfect ending from there.

On the other hand, there was your younger brother Peter who had barely scraped by in his school and your parents had to persuade Universities to accept him. He spent more times in clubs than in his classes. Your parents saw him as a typical boy, causing some trouble and chasing the ladies. Boys will be boys; they’d excused with a hearty laugh as Peter would be trotted to the cells for indecent exposer or public indecency. Still even after all the trouble he’d caused Peter was still the apple of their eyes, your mother fawned over him and your father tried moulding him into his protégé.

Then there was you. With a sister that was perfect and a brother that they dotted on that left very little time or energy for you. It seemed like you just slipped through the cracks. Even when they did have time spare for you every decision, you’d made they hadn’t approved. In their eyes, you were simply the wild little fuck-up. It pained and riled Simon that anyone thought of you as anything but perfect and good and kind.

Once they arrived at your sisters’ home Simon was surprised to find that it was an expensive looking townhouse that had been renovated to have some modern features. This strangle matched the dreamhouse that you’d muttered to him one night in your post-sex chatter, it made Simon wonder who had desired the house first, maybe it was you and Anna had simply stolen that dream to taunt you. Approached the modern frosted glass door, it opened and out stepped an older woman with a disguised smile on her face, dressed in a smart, conservative dress with sharp kitten heels. Your hand squeezed his own as you approached, announcing nicely. “Mum…” Ah, your mother, Cynthia…

“Hello darling.” Her voice was soft but hiding something, like a sickly sweet venom that was encasing you both. You had mentioned that she was high strung and highly critical, that remained to be seen. If there was one thing that Cynthia enjoyed in life it was gossiping, followed by bragging about her family, or at least some of her family members, certainly not you, you’d joked to Simon but there was a pained reality to that snide remark. “Look at you, that is certainly an interesting dress…” She observed, cupping your face then. “You look very tired, are you sleeping well?” The snide remarks had already begun, Simon observed.

You complained lowly. “Mum…” Then looked towards Simon, eyes pleading for some form of help or safety or escape but only found his own dark set that matched your own fear. “This is-” Cynthia cut you off and turned her viper grin towards at him, those dangerous eyes scanned him and searched for any little weakness or vulnerability. “This must be Simon.” Cynthia let out an almost cynical laugh. “Now, I must ask your sister to set another place, we weren’t sure that you were real…” It was another little dig that made you wince.

Cynthia then allowed the two of you to follow her further into the house, a lounge area stood before them and three men lingered inside of it. An older man sat on the sofa, drink in hand and head drooping, another around Simon’s age stood behind a small make-shift bar, cleaning glasses and straightening bottles of the labels faced out and proud and then across the room a younger man was texting on his phone. “Simon, make yourself comfortable with the men. That is my husband, Harold. This is my son-in-law, Barney.” Cynthia even gifted him a snide smile, the same she had done to Simon, they were outsiders after all, not as important as blood, simply there to give her grandchildren. “And that is my son Peter~”

Turning to you and lowering her voice, Cynthia said. “Darling, don’t worry that you didn’t bring a present, your sister understands that you don’t make a lot of money-” “N-no, I just left it at home.” You attempted to explain but your mother just chortled lowly and squeezed your shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure… just like how Peter ate all your Christmas chocolate when you were 10, hmm?” Then she poked your tummy in jest. “But I think we all know where it went.”

Simon forced himself to grit his teeth, looking between and watching you purse your lips, accepting the vicious attack with a tight smile and glossy eyes. “Now, don’t make that face~” Cynthia smirked directly at you, as if knowing she was pushing your buttons. “Come, your sister will want some help in the kitchen, I’m sure you’ll survive being apart from your boyfriend for five minutes, hmm?” Then looking towards Simon and asking. “You won’t mind if I borrow her, will you?”

More than anything he wanted to deny her, snatch you up into his side and away from anymore of her cruel remarks, but her claw-like hands were already circling you and tugging you from the room before he had a chance. The next moment, a presence walked up behind him and Simon turned to see a very happy looking man stood there. “Hey man…” A thick American accent rolled from him. “My name is Barney, you must be Simon, right?” He was quick to shake his hand and comment. “Quite the grip there, you play golf?”

Shaking his head Simon followed him back to where he’d been lingering (or probably hiding) behind his bar. “Do you drink, man? What’s your poison?” Barney asked enthusiastically, very proudly gesturing to the array of bottles that were placed behind the bar, squeaky clean but hardly used. “Whiskey. Neat.” Then leaning against the bar and waiting for it to be made. Another approached, this time your brother, tucking his phone away into his pocket as he sidled up beside him, elbows resting on the bar too, matching him stance for stance. “Simon, right? The latest addition to our fucked up little family.” Peter commented, his tone just as snide as his mother’s – the apple didn’t fall far, he supposed. “I’m sure my sister told you all about me…”

“She mentioned a few things…” Simon answered evenly, reaching out to take the offered drink from Barney, drinking it down a little too quickly to appear casual. Bloody hell, he’d been on battlefields and felt less anxious. “Well, I’ve got a few stories about my sister that I’m sure you’ll want to hear too~” The young lad began before Simon glanced in his direction, testing and bothered by his presence.

Sensing the impending tension Barney let out a hearty chuckle and said. “Maybe another time, huh?” Then giving Peter a pointed look. “Simon… what do you do for a job?” He asked in a friendly enough way, this seemed to catch the attention of Harold who actually glanced in his direction, quietly accessing and judging, it felt like you were the only normal one to actually come out of this family. “I’m in the special forces.” Simon explained, keeping his answers short and sweet, not allowing too many details to slip out, it wouldn’t be professional. They all had different reactions to this little piece of information. Peter quirked a brow whilst Barney grinned and nodded. “That’s tight. Respect, man.”

“A solider…” Peter muttered. “Lieutenant, actually.” Simon corrected in a sharp tone. There wasn’t many things in life he was proud about but you and his career were among the only few.

Again, your brother seemed to stir from beside him. “So…” Looking at him, wanting to judge Simon’s reaction. “How many people you killed?” The question was so crass that it actually made Barney gasp before letting out a nervous laugh and saying. “Pete, I’m not sure you can ask questions like that, man…” Then another laugh before giving his brother-in-law a soft punch on the shoulder, followed by a pointed look, don’t push.

There was this clear power struggle that Peter was trying to win. This happened often with rich boys like your brother, they saw Simon as a threat because he was physically much more impending than them, feeling even worse when they discovered that Simon wasn’t as dumb as they thought he looked.

“Not something that I keep count of…” Simon answered keeping his face straight, remaining unbothered. It was a good answer, it was formal and dignified, not to mention filled with some honesty. It wasn’t like Simon could even keep count anymore, even if he had wanted to. Peter seemed unimpressed with that answer and simply huffed before saying. “Bet you could think of at least five different ways to kill me in here, right?” Again, this spiked the interest of Harold, glancing in their direction.

Another challenge. Another prod. Another opportunity to attempt to make Simon look unhinged. Attempting to break the tension Barney laughed awkwardly. “This joker-” “I could think at least ten.” Simon retorted, dark eyes watching Peter to see that smugness falter for just a moment as true fear sank in. From across the room for just a split second Harold smirked then it washed away as he finished his fifth drink of the night.

The room was thick with an air of tension as you stepped inside looking completely flustered. “It’s uh… it’s time for dinner.” You informed them, frowning as you tried to access the atmosphere, approaching Simon to rest a delicate hand on his forearm, wrapping yourself around the limb. The room cleared out as Barney escorted his in-laws to his dinning room. Gazing up at Simon, you asked. “You alright?”

Simon’s eyes seemed to focus on where Peter had been escorted from the room, watching that area on alert for a few moments before his gaze flittered back in your direction. “Told your brother I could think of ten ways to kill him in this room alone…”

You blinked. Slow and calculating. Attempting to understand the words that Simon had just rushed in your direction. “Excuse me?” You muttered, staring up into his eyes in confusion. “Why… why would you say-” “He was pushing me.” There was an edge of frustration to his tone. You brother had gotten under Simon’s skin a lot more than he was willing to admit aloud. Reaching up you cupped his face and looked into his eyes with such care and sincerity, it really did pain you to witness your family treating him in a way that left him so anxious and wound up. “I believe you.” You whispered. “I believe you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My fucking family… It’s my family, they make it their mission to push and prod and make your life misery. I’m sorry-”

A short huff came from Simon, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently and replying. “You don’t ever apologies for any of them.” He told you, voice firm and sure. There was no part of this that was your fault. You were born into a family of cynical fakers, wanting to make everyone else’s lives as miserable as their own. He hadn’t even been around them for an hour yet, but Simon could see that you were the only good thing to come from your family. He could force himself to survive the rest of the dinner party for you… but when this was over, he never wanted to see these people again.

“Come on, now…” Your mothers voice entered the lounge and she lingered in the doorway, big fake smile on her lips and glass of wine in hand. “You were late to the party and now you’ll be late for dinner too…” Cynthia chortled, clearly still holding that grudge. “I swear, my darling girl would be late to her own funeral too…” The comment was made as she swayed down the hallway towards the dining room, Simon simply grit his teeth and continued to bite his tongue. A few more hours, he reminded himself constantly.

The dinner that was severed was nice enough. Honestly, the only cooking that you actually enjoyed nowadays was anything that Simon served up for you and it was something he was more than happy to take care of for you. It was mundane and simple and peaceful, just for some time he could force his noisy brain to shut off, it simply wasn’t warfare.

You sat beside him, food pushing around your plate, probably each little biting comment from your mother stripped away any hunger from you. Cynthia had persuaded your siblings to list all their recent achievements to you, which they seemed all too happy to do. Maybe they knew that if all that vitriol that poured from your mother was aimed at you, then they’d continue to escape it… or maybe they enjoyed it because they were just as cruel as she was.

“Are you enjoying the food?” Cynthia quirked a soft brow at Simon, it was a strange observation but Simon noted that your mother wore a face so similar to your own, maybe more than the rest of your siblings but not even one of your expressions matched. There was so much pure and true joy and easiness in your smile, but each time your mother did the same it seemed like it might crack her face into tiny pieces. “I’m sure you aren’t used to a good homecooked meal, hmm?” Then laughing lowly. “Especially with this one’s cooking…” Pointing a fork in your direction.

“It’s fine.” Simon responded evenly, clearly not to exaggerated praise that your mother had been expecting, simply narrowing her eyes and taking back another gulp of wine. “I like to cook for us…” His hand then rests on your knee beneath the table, reminding you that you weren’t alone facing your horrid family, but that Simon had your back. “Between the two of us, I have more time to cook, anyway.” Then he shrugged, gazing in your direction and seeing your desperation to find safety and warmth within him. “With all the hours that she works and then the time she spends on her art, I like to keep her fed…” Too afraid to continue aloud, Simon thought, keep her warm, provided for her, keep her happy, keep her satisfied. Just… keep her.

A deep scoff came from Cynthia then, another big glug of wine until her glass was empty. It seemed that Simon had given Peter the opportunity to speak then, smirking from across the table. “Speaking of work…” Those dangerous eyes loomed as you sat a little straighter in your chair. “Heard from a friend that you missed that interview dad set up…” The comment was thrown out there so casually but you were left reeling as you knew the chaos that simple comment would cause. Besides, how did he even know that? There wasn’t a chance in the world that Peter had friends to be able to tell him that information, so what? Was he following you? Keeping tabs on you? Before you even had the chance to interrogate him Cynthia spoke first.

“No, no…” Placing down the wine bottle onto the table with a heavy thud, eyes fixed on you. “Please tell me that isn’t true.” Raising her brows, as if waiting for you to deny Peter’s allegations but you remained sheepishly quiet. “You lied to me.” There was a fiery rage in her eyes now and you knew that you were in for it. “You told me that you went. I can’t believe you would lie to your own mother…” Your mouth opened then, as if to defend yourself but Cynthia was much too quick to continue her tirade. “We have spoken about this again and again… I made it clear it is time to give up on this silly little fantasy that you’ve been holding onto. It is time to grow up and join the real world. You need to be more like your brother and your sister…” Gesturing wildly to them as Anna sat almost ashamed with her gaze down to her lap and Peter sat there with a smarmy smile the instigator of this.

Again, you opened your mouth, but her hand came up sharp in your direction. “Do you know the strings your father had to pull to organise that interview?” Then gesturing towards Harold who seemed completely unphased, cutting his steak into another bitesize piece whilst his wife continued to berate their daughter before the audience. “You are such an ungrateful brat and you always have been. When will you understand? You have absolutely zero desirable qualities so finding a decent job will be very difficult for you… who in their right mind is going to want to hire someone like you, hmm?”

Everyone apart from Cynthia and Peter appeared mortified, Anna looked to you with horror on her face and then Barney spoke, careful smile on his face. “She still had plenty of time to figure out what she wants to do, right? Anna took a gap year during college… Pete did the same… So, she isn’t going abroad or whatever, instead she’s trying to… to… figure out if she can follow her passion, I think it’s-” “Be quiet.” Cynthia growled at him then, teeth grit. “Don’t talk such nonsense… Peter and Anna were working hard at college and needed a break to find themselves and after returned to college and get their degrees. What does she have? Nothing. I couldn’t even convince her to apply to any colleges… She is a lazy, stubborn, silly little girl and you are chasing a hopeless dream-” “Enough.”

Every set of eyes then turned to look at Simon who sat with a furious look present on his face. At the beginning of the evening, he could maybe accept those biting little comments, he could certainly accept the way that Peter had provoked him, Simon could even accept the way that your mother had sat there bragging about your siblings but he wasn’t going to allow her to utterly humiliate you like this. “You don’t fuckin’ talk to her that way.” Carefully from beside him, you muttered his name, a soft plead to try and calm the fight that seemed inevitable now. “No.” He told you firmly, quietly, gazing down at you with a set jaw and narrowed eyes. “I won’t just sit there and let her fuckin’ talk to you like this… I wont… I can’t…”

It wasn’t like Simon had grown up in a good household. It was clearly different from your own. Simon had witnessed his father completely decimate any good in his family and he was too young and too small and too scared to stop him or do anything. This is why he is the man he is today; he wouldn’t allow that again and seeing your family ripping you to shreds, tearing apart any good and hope and light inside of you was too much for him. Not you. Never you.

“Simon, please. You simply don’t understand...” Cynthia began. “My daughter lives in this word of make believe where she thinks she is going to become and artists and be able to make money and buy big houses like her sister. It’s just ridiculous. I’ve tried getting through to her, but-” “Your daughter is a fuckin’ adult.” Simon growled then, leaning into the table slightly so he could talk across at her. “She doesn’t need you to find her a job and she doesn’t need you to approve the choices that she makes in her life.” Simon growled, feeling this need to protect you and keep you safe, that very same one that had grown for his mother in his childhood. Different, but… the same. “Your daughter… your daughter is fuckin’ amazing. There isn’t a thing about her that needs to change. She’s intelligent and she’s soft and kind and she’s really fuckin’ talented and I wonder how all of that managed to happen when she grew up around you cunts-” The entire table seemed to gasp in unison.

There seemed to be this stunned silence before everyone erupted, Peter almost fell off his chair laughing, whilst baby Hunter wailed from the commotion. Cynthia stood stark upright, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Unacceptable! Disgusting! Unacceptable! He’s an animal! He’s feral!” Stalk through the house on a tirade of insults aimed in his direction with her husband trailing behind her. Anna was trying to hopelessly clean a puddle of wine from where it had teetered over onto the table. “It’s fucking vintage!” There were real tears in her eyes, much to Simon’s surprise.

Just then Barney stood up, bouncing his son in his arms and looking between you and Simon. “I think… I think it would be best if you guys left.” There was sorrow in his eyes as he suggested it, not wanting to be unkind but just not wanting anymore drama. It was probably for the best even if Simon did have a few more choice words for them.

The entire car ride home you were unusually quiet beside him. He was actually a little lost on how to handle this situation. There weren’t a part of him that was sorry for what he’d said to your family, or more specifically your mother. Simon just couldn’t handle the fact that she could talk to you in such a vile way. There was only so much that Simon was willing to take and he’d lost it. Fuck, had he scared you? Were you mad at him? Were you sad for causing a rift in your family? Had he even caused a rift? Clearly, they hadn’t thought very much of you before he’d been there…

A small sniffle from beside him caught his attention, glancing in your direction and under the glow of the streetlamps Simon saw your face wet with tears. Without hesitation Simon signalled and pulled his truck onto an empty road, clambering from the driver’s seat and around to yank open your door. A moment later his arms were around you, hand supporting the back of your head burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. “You’re alright. Shh. You’re alright, babe.”

After a few moments of allowing, you to just sob into his shoulder, your voice muffled against his shirt. “Don’t ca-care what they s-say about me-” “Well, I do.” There was a thick edge to his voice, pulling back to cup your face and looking for any sign of fight towards your family but you seemed defeated, you seemed emotionally drained. Where was that witty girl that had corned him on a night out? Where was the one that had to almost twist his arm to open up? Where was that fight for her own pretty self? “I care about what they say about you because they are dead fuckin’ wrong, babe. No one deserved to be talked to like that. I won’t allow it.”

There was something deeper simmering here behind all this. There was something that Simon didn’t want to confess or discuss. The berating. The belittling. The treatment of less than… This was something that Simon wouldn’t allow for you because he had experienced it and much worse. “You don’t deserve it.” It was like Simon was talking to all the people in his life that hadn’t deserved the fate they were given. You. Him. His mum. His brother. His friends he’d lost. The soldiers that had died in his arms. “Okay?” “Okay.”

Masterlist | Ask | 04-02-2024

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst #ghost call of duty #ghost #ghost mw3 #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost smut #ghost fluff #ghost angst

[angelltheninth]

Endurance Test

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, edging, cock riding, begging, cock tease, licking, dirty talk, cum shot, sub!Peter Parker, dom!Reader

Word count: 0.7k

Kinktober Day 6: Orgasm Denial

Ao3

A/N: I've really been looking forward to this kinktober fic. Peter is always so cute I just want to tease him and make him squirm.

Peter struggled to keep his hips from jerking upwards, his hands fisting the sheets so tight he almost teared them apart. But what could he do? You didn't restrain him but you still told him not to touch you. Which made it even more difficult for him.

"Easy. Don't twitch too much sweetheart." You mumble against the leaking tip of his cock, your hands fondling his full balls, massaging and squeezing, "You don't want me to choke do you?" You wink just before you take his cock in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to make the sucking easier.

"God. No, no but I- Please." He whines, low and almost teary eyed from frustration, "I don't think I can hold it for much longer."

You release his cock with a wet pop, moving your hand up and down, slowly from the bottom and then rolling your palm over the tip, making sure to spread his cum nicely. "Not yet. Just a little longer. Then you can give me every last drop." You make sure to look at him in the eye as your tongue darts out to lick the dripping bead cum flowing down Peter's hard length.

He bites his bottom lip, making it tremble upon release as another needy whimper escapes him.

"Poor thing. You're so hard. It must hurt a lot huh. How about I kiss it better for you." You trail hot, slow, deliberate kisses up and down his dick, making it throb even more when you give him a long lick from his balls all the way to the tip.

"I need to be inside you. I'm feel like I'm gonna explode." Peter pulls at the sheets, his hands needing something to tug, something to hold onto.

"I fully expect you to. And you've been a very good boy for me Peter. I should reward you now shouldn't I?" You run your fingers between your legs, briefly inserting one finger in, letting out a long moan. "Hear that? That's how wet I am for you. Let me show you."

You move and straddle his hips, spreading your lips with your fingers and rubbing his hard, aching cock between your wet pussy lips.

"Think you're ready for me? Hm?" You roll your hips against his cock, making another drop of cum drip onto his abs. He can't even form words anymore, he just nods his head quickly and whimpers out your name.

With a brief kiss on his lips you position yourself on top of him, nudging your opening with the tip once, twice, before you fully sink down on him without warming.

"Oh fuck!" Peter throws his head back, his hands leaving the sheets for your thighs, keeping your pinned against him, your hips fully against him. "You're so warm inside. Feels like my cock's gonna melt. God. Move. Move. Please. I need to come. I need-"

"Soon love, soon." You squeeze your cunt around him, focusing on his tip as you begin to move your hips ups and down, sinking all the way down each time. "Come when I tell you to. All of it. Make sure you give me all of it. Ready darling? Are you ready to give me all you've got?"

"Yes, yes. Anything. Everything. Please met me come. Please!" He starts to babble, his whole body shaking then snapping like a web thread once you nod his way. His hips start driving into you at full force, his cock shooting warm jets of cum deep inside your pussyhole, painting your insides white with his seed.

You're not far behind, especially when he looks so adorable and sexy underneath you. You start milking him with your cunt, intent on getting all of his cum.

"Holy shit." Peter throws his arm over his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly along with yours. You need to brace yourself on his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over him. "That was intense."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." You lean down to give him another kiss, longer than the last one, brushing your tongue against his. "It feels nice to let go of responsibility and control once in a while huh?"

Peter licks his lips and takes a deep breath, "I wouldn't mind doing it more often."

"I was really hoping you'd say that. Try to last even longer next time hm?" You clench around him again, getting another spurt of cum from him in return.

"No promises." He smiles up at you as he pulls you down and moves his head so you can rest on his shoulder comfortably, "But I'll try anything for you baby."

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker smut #peter smut #marvel #marvel smut #marvel x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman smut #mcu x reader #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #kinktober #smut

[webslingingslasher]

cherry buys the cherry lube (best kind) as her last step to convince peter to fuck her and he just sighs JDBDDN

she’s just a girl😔 he needs to give her what she wants! in the name of feminism

an: nsfw content!

sitting crisscrossed in peter’s bed, you reach over the side to grab a small bag from your backpack. the thin plastic had three red thank you’s printed across it. you raise it over your head and give it a shimmy.

‘guess what i got?’

‘a lamborghini.’

‘so close! okay, you know that sex shop off that exit with the chinese place?’

‘no.’

‘oh. i’ll have to take you-’

‘no thanks.’

‘- but i went there and i found something. something i think you’d like and something you think we’d need.’

‘i’m scared.’

‘i’m not!’ you shake out the bag, a palm sized bottle of lube falls, it lands on your lap and you quickly present it to peter with a proud smile.

‘lube?’ you shove it out into his hands, ‘look at the flavor!’ peter squints at the bottle, then scoffs. ‘really? cherry?’

‘oh c’mon, it’s perfect!’ you start listing off why, ‘you call me cherry, you’re taking my cherry, and it’s cherry lube, to do said previous thing.’

you’re waiting for his excitement, you reach forward to push at his cheeks, forcing a smile. ‘what? you don’t find it funny? i thought i’d at least get a chuckle from you.’

peter watches as you tear the plastic around the cap with your teeth. ‘do you think it actually tastes like cherry?’ you stick out your tongue and put a small drop on it, you hold it out to peter and wave your hand along.

he’s got hesitant eyes when his own darts out, you give him the same amount. your face sours at the taste, peter has a poker face. ‘ew.’ it sticks around, you wipe your tongue off with your shirt.

'that was gross- unless you like it, i assume you'd be doing most of the tasting.' peter tosses the bottle into a trashcan you didn't know he had. 'is that new?' peter shakes his head, you tilt yours and try to place it. 'weird. never noticed it before. also, you owe me four dollars.'

'why do i have to pay you back?'

'you threw it away.'

'it was inedible.'

'false. i could've used it by myself.'

'go dig it out then.'

'i deserve more than trash lube, peter.'

'consider it a favor, you shouldn't be using scentsy stuff down below. i've heard they don't like it.'

you squint at him, 'what's it for then?' peter looks down at his crotch, 'blowjobs.' you drop your mouth a little, that hadn't occurred to you. 'oh, i see.' you have a moment where things click into place. 'so that would also explain flavored condoms.'

'please tell me you didn't get flavored condoms.'

'of course not.'

peter relaxes, you prefer him on edge.

'i don't know what size you wear. is it a one size fits all thing cause i've seen those videos where people hang them out the car window and they turn into balloons.'

'think of it as a pair of leggings. could you fit into a pair three sizes too small? sure can. is it comfortable? absolutely not.'

‘and ones that are too big just fall off? that explains a lot, actually.’

‘personally, i’d be more mortified if a condom came off because it was too big versus just admitting i need a smaller size.’

your eye twinkles, ‘and what size are you?’

‘you buy the tampons, i buy the condoms. deal?’ you can't lie, learning male anatomy has been your favorite part in all of this.

peter lays back with his hands behind his head, you straddle his lap and he's watching with close eyes. 'what? i can't get comfortable?'

he smiles. sometimes you get a ping in your lower stomach when he looks at you like that.

'all this bedspace and you choose to get comfortable on me?'

'i have a feeling this will be my favorite seat.' a smug grin.

'you're bold for a virgin.'

'would you rather me be scared to be near you, a man with a penis?' peter's head tilts, you know what's coming. 'oh? so you didn't have a panic attack when you saw my dick?'

you twitch your nose at the quip, you pat his tummy, hovering over his waistline. 'speaking of, you should let me see him again. i'm prepared and i wanna touch.'

peter's ignoring the spike in his blood pressure, he doesn't like the gleam in your eye. 'or... i think i have a suggestion for how you can make up the four dollars you owe me.'

'i owe you nothing, but lets hear it.'

you act out your words. 'you,' you point at him. 'me,' you point at yourself. 'having sex,' you gesture to your placement, then the bare spot next to him. before he can ruin it, you continue. 'right now.'

'do you think if you keep asking i'll say yes on a whim?' you lean in, inches from his face. 'you want to have sex with me. you want to take me to pound town. you want to make me a real woman.' it's a poor attempt at hypnotizing.

'okay, well, being a virgin doesn't mean you're not a real woman. second, you still get nervous about making out with me. you're not ready for sex.'

okay, maybe so. it's not your fault you don't know how to act around him, he's the first guy you've seen for longer than a week and he's not your boyfriend.

'i'm not anxious about kissing you.'

'oh, really? do it then.' he called your bluff. you've kissed people before but this whole arrangement was peter's idea so you've left all the initiation to him.

'fine, i'll kiss you.' you make no movements.

'i'm waiting.' you swallow tightly and move in, he's got that smile that makes your heart beat fast, you still haven't pinpointed why. 'i'm going to kiss you.' peter nods, 'go ahead.'

you get closer, 'i'm seriously gonna do it.'

'c'mon, cherry. i hate a tease.' you power through the part of your brain that tells you you've never kissed a guy, you've always waited for them to kiss you. you hold your breath and land a peck on his mouth.

'there. i did it.'

'did what? kiss me like i dared you?’ he finds it funny, that's what you get for being bold. you won't make him laugh this time. you move quick, your lips melt over his, you always forget how good of a kisser he is until you have your mouth on his and you never want to separate again.

it becomes sloppy, when you lick his bottom lip peter groans, it sends a spark to your thighs and you involuntarily clench around nothing. you gasp when you're flipped onto your back, peter's dotting a line over your jaw.

when a rough hand skids under your shirt, you suck in a breath.

'relax.' 

it's easier said than done. peter's right, you talk a big game but when he actually tries to do what you want, you hit the panic button.

'sorry, i was just thinking about the four bucks you owe me.'

'don't lie when i'm about to get handsy.' you squirm when fingers tuck themselves into the band of your bra. 'handsy how?' it's peter's turn to take control.

'how do you feel about hitting second base?'

'you're gonna finger me?' your voice pitches while your mind starts racing, you weren't prepared for this. 'easy, killer. second base is just me feeling you up, when you're ready for more, let me know.'

relief floods you, you get more comfortable underneath him. 'oh, okay. yeah, you can get handsy. do you want me to take my shirt off?'

'i want to suck your tits, you decide.'

your entire body flushes warmth, your cheeks are like lava. 'oh! i've never had that done. does it feel good?'

'i don't know, but i'm here if you want to find out.' you nibble on your bottom lip, it's all about eventually having sex and part of that might include your boobs.

'i'd like to find out.'

peter doesn't rush into it. for someone who doesn't like to be teased, he loves teasing. it feels like an hour passes before you're bare chested, a slurry of insecurity flashes when he doesn't immediately go to town.

'you're beautiful.' peter feels a little silly saying it, he hasn't really complimented a girl so softly under the guise of sex before.

your heart pounds, you've never heard it said so authentically. peter genuinely believes what he's saying, you don't think a guy has ever called you beautiful. you've gotten hot and sexy but never beautiful. you feel the need to give him something back.

'you're handsome.' you might be bad at this, you feel his smile in the crook of your neck.

'thanks, cherry.'

slow marks dance over your collarbones, when they reach your chest you almost flinch. 'i'm okay.' you were speaking to yourself, but maybe peter also needs the reminder. 'are you trying to convince me or yourself?'

'yes.'

'you can tap out. no harm, no foul.' no, you got this far and if you back out it would be taking ten steps backwards. 'i'm not tapping out, i'm waiting to see if what you're saying is worth all the hoopla.'

peter snorts, 'hoopla.' you're about to give a rebuttal, instead you grip the back of his head and let out a breathy 'oh wow,' when peter swirls his tongue around you.

it's igniting you all over, you don't know why you thought it would feel bad. when there's a vacuum seal and peter starts sucking, you're a goner. when he mixes in that little twirl method, you let out an earth shattering moan.

your hand slams over your mouth. 'sorry! i've never done that before and i-' there's a dark look in peter's eyes, you can't decide if he's more upset about your words or making him stop.

'don't ever apologize for your pleasure. got it?' you nod quickly, you'd agree to anything if it meant peter would keep going. 'okay, okay, got it.' it's all he needs and he's back to work, the breast he doesn't have in his mouth is being treated with his hand.

there's double sensation, peter's going back and forth and now you can't think straight and... and... you're about to come and you've never done that in front of another person.

'please stop!'

peter drops his mouth open and freezes, he's moving with caution when he pulls away from you. you race for air while the knot in your stomach slowly untangles.

'are you okay?' peter's looking over every inch of your body, you smile sheepishly and look anywhere but him. 'yeah. i was just like... you know?'

'no.'

'i was gonna... you know? and i've never done that with another person.' peter's trying to jump through the hoops of your 'you know?'s' you say that a lot and very rarely does he actually know what you mean.

'you were about to come?' everything burns, how is he so casual about all of this? 'yeah.' the look on his face tells you he already knew that. 'what did you think the point was? just for fun?'

'you didn't tell me that! how was i supposed to know?' he gives a half shrug. 'it gets some people off and others need more. it was a gamble, nice to know which crowd you fit in though.'

you feel a bit silly, of course that was the intention. wasn't this whole thing about your pleasure? 'if you get me off, i have to get you off.' peter's quick to shut you down.

'you don't have to do anything. sex isn't transactional.'

'yeah, but, peter, i want to please you too. this doesn't do much for me if you keep me away from you.' peter takes your concern to heart, he nods thoughtfully and calmly explains his hesitation.

'i understand that, and i promise we'll get there. mutual pleasure is something we need to conquer before sex, yes. but for right now, as someone who's done those things for a while, i'm on the backburner. i need to catch you up to speed on some things first, okay? you've never come in front of someone, you don't need to be trying to tack blowjob skills on top of that.'

peter has an excellent argument, you just feel bad he's not getting anything in return. he doesn't owe you anything, he's just doing you a favor and he absolutely doesn't owe you loyalty. it's not like peter likes you, he's just doing you a favor, that's all this is.

'just because...' your tongue feels thick, it feels hard to say what you're about to say and you don't know why. 'just because you're helping me out doesn't mean you have to suffer. so if you want to hookup with someone more experienced while we-'

'no. that's not what this is about, that mentality is why we're not just jumping into sex. cherry lube or not.' you don't know why that relieves you, you don't know why you feel so much better knowing peter wasn't looking for anything with anyone else.

just in case; 'if you do hook up with someone else-'

'i won't.'

'-i believe you. but if you do, can you promise not to tell me? if you need to take care of yourself outside of this just don't let me find out, please.' it'd be crushing to know what peter's doing with you while knowing he's doing the same thing with another girl who could actually pleasure him back.

'cherry, seriously, that's not what this is about.' it's sex. it's only about sex. how could you be confusing it?

'sex is about open and honest communication. it's about trusting each other and being vulnerable. it doesn't matter if it's a one night stand or a committed relationship, it takes a lot to open up to someone else like that. if, and i wouldn't, but i'll entertain you- if i wanted to step out of this, i'd tell you first, because that's what you're supposed to do.'

when you picked peter out of the line of frat boys you had no idea you got the one who was all about slow and steady. you expected a quick one night and to be sent off to live the world as a non-virgin, not the beefy gentleman in front of you.

'you're one of a kind, parker.' peter winks at you, you feel warm. 'same to you, cherry. this only works if we're open with each other, i'm not just teaching you the physical parts of sex, i'm trying to show you the mental and emotional side of it because that's way more important than the actual sex, does that make sense?'

you think you get what he's saying. 'so, because you already know these things, your pleasure doesn't matter right now?'

'correct.'

'and if it matters to me?'

'don't let it. because if it becomes an issue i'll...' he trails off, he's waiting on you to finish it for him. you'll prove you've been listening. 'tell me.'

'bingo! look at you, cherry smart.' you groan, 'that was gross.' peter squeezes your knee, he's looking over your face for any hesitation, he doesn't see any.

'are we good? we're on the same page now?'

you nibble on your bottom lip, you think you covered everything. you didn't know there were so many things to sex. 'yeah, same page.' peter's happy with that, he nods once and turns back on the horny part of his brain.

'still wanna call it quits or keep going?'

same page, same page, same page, same-

'keep going.' you sound nervous, peter catches it. 'are you sure? we can put it on pause and-'

'no, i wanna...' time to be a big girl, you're both on the same page. 'i wanna have you make me...' you lose your tenacity but you still power through, even if you mumble the last word. 'come.'

peter tells you if you wanna stop, at any point for any reason, just call it like you did before. you agree but tell yourself you were going to get through it because the sooner you open yourself up for pleasure, the sooner peter opens himself up for the same thing.

it's not a hard thing to power through, this time you're not shy about quiet whimpers or tugging at the back of peter's hair. 'oh my god,' you squeeze your eyes shut, there are zings of want being sent into your core, it's an unreal feeling.

peter grazes his teeth over your nipple, your back arches from his bed. 'okay, yeah, shit, fuck, okay.' you're bad at staying calm, peter's humming into your skin, you want more. you want everything he's given you multiplied by ten.

a switch to your left breast, it's just as satisfying. when his thumb tweaks your bud, you push up further. 'i want more, please more.' you don't know what you're asking for, you're hoping peter will help you out.

peter sucks harshly, your breath hitches and at that perfect moment, he grinds his hips into yours. an egregious moan rips from your throat, you can't help the tumbling whimper, it sounds pathetic. peter must like it, he rolls harsher, his jeans meet your bottoms perfectly.

'doin' okay?' you answer by shoving his head back down. 'mhm, keep doing that please.' peter follows  the instruction, whatever gets you off, he'll do.

bump and grind, he's back on your right tit. it's been ten minutes but you can already tell he prefers that one. it took longer to build because you edged yourself, but peter hit that one spot and your thighs are a vice grip around his hips.

'oh my fucking god, peter.' he said he doesn't know if it would feel good, you wish you could share a fraction of what you're experiencing. your lower stomach tightens, peter latches down harder as if he has a sixth sense for what you're about to do.

you don't know what to do with your hands, when you grit your teeth and meet his miniature thrusts, they land on peter's arms and your nails dig in. your eyes slam closed, you see white light as if your picture was taken with the flash on.

'shit, shit, shit, shit!' you swear you're drawing blood from him but all you can think about is the heat exploding from your body. your hips buck they never have before, there's a sense of delight backing it up.

you've never had an orgasm like this in your entire life. it feels so different with another person, it felt like it was never ending. your legs feel like they locked up, you stop breathing for a solid second before you're gasping.

peter pulls back, your head is still spinning. your chest rapidly rises and falls, you feel marks over your face but you're so far away in your mind it's muddled.

'c'mon, come back to me.' you feel more awake, there's a wet kiss to your cheek, then another to your chin. 'c'mon, cherry. find your mind.' you do, your eyes open, you forgot you had them closed. it's like peeling them apart.

you feel wrecked.

'hi.' peter's got a cocky grin, he deserves it. you run your hand down your face, you feel fuzzy. 'hi.' you remember the harm you might've caused, you slightly shake when you reach for peter's arm, there's no marks.

'how are you feeling?' like you're leaking into his mattress, like every muscle is weighed down, like you couldn't stand up if you tried. the best you can come up with is, 'floaty.'

'that might stick around for a minute. want some water?' you hadn't thought of it before, but suddenly you feel parched. peter reads your mind, he's already holding out his water bottle.

'everything's better right after, no idea why.' peter guesses it's something with endorphins and brain chemicals, but he's never bothered to actually look into it.

after sitting up, you chug. even after the water you're still breathless. 'holy shit.' falling forward, peter catches you. you lay on him as a half hug, all he's doing is supporting your weight. you feel terribly heavy right now.

'thank you so much, oh my god. holy shit, a guy just made me come in my pants, what the fuck is my life?' a sprinkle of kisses from your ear to your cheek, 'don't build my ego too much or you'll have to deal with it.'

'i feel so heavy right now.' you drop to the pillow at peter's push, you don't have it in you to fight back. it's not necessary because peter falls right next to you and scoops you into his hold.

or, another way to put it, peter's cuddling you. peter's cuddling you while he's kissing your shoulder, it makes your head spin even more. 'what are you doing?' you're not fighting him on it, if anything you're leaning in further, he's just never cuddled you before. it feels nice.

'aftercaring you. doing my best to get you back down to earth from your floaty space.' you nod like you understand, there's still some things you need to get better at.

'hey, peter?'

'yeah?' he's much quieter.

'you don't owe me four dollars anymore.' a puff of hot air into your skin, at least he finds you funny. 'good. you were never gonna get it anyways.' 

#the virgin files #frat!peterxvirgin!reader #peter parker smut

[alwaysmoncheri]

hiii would u be open to writing remus lupin x reader with the prompt *x put head on y’s shoulder* “just don’t leave…” with either remus saying it or the reader? no worries if not <3 🦌🦌

hi, my love!! thank you for requesting! i hope this is what you’re looking for! i was in a little bit of a writer block last night so this may not be my best work, i apologize for that, honey </3

cw: fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of remus being a werewolf, remus feels insecure, the marauders not being very helpful, established relationship, crying, 0.9k

<3

Remus isn’t one to hide who he is, you know he’s a werewolf, he’s been vulnerable with you before, so when he starts to become a little distant from you, you know exactly why. The past few days have been rough for him, you know. Leading up to a full moon is almost always worse than the aftermath. But this time, Remus seems particularly bothered. He still holds your hand to classes and reads to you at night, but something about the way he always is distracted, like loosely holing your hand without knowing and constantly losing his place while reading makes you feel like his mind is truly elsewhere.

The Marauders aren’t helping the situation either. Sure, they’re supportive of their friend and you know they’re always there for him, but the pitying glances don’t go unnoticed by both you and Remus and you don’t presume he is very fond of those looks. You don’t blame him.

At dinner, the night before the full moon, James, Sirius, and Peter keep repeating the same set of motions. Their eyes dart from each other, their food, to Remus, and back to each other. You fight the urge to roll your eyes at their obvious display of concern because Remus doesn’t really need that right now and they should know that after all this time. After tolerating the silent glances for the majority of dinner, Remus shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving his food. You gently slide your hand into his, hoping offer some comfort, and when he accepts you take it a step furthur and draw small circles with your thumb on the back of his hand. This doesn’t last long. When the other three boys offer sympathetic smiles, Remus notices and stands from his seat, dropping your hand and walking out of The Great Hall with quick strides.

“Would you guys quit it?” you hiss at the boys across the table who’s eyes widen at the abrupt snap of your head in their direction.

“What?” They reply in unison and share a few nervous glances before returning to your harsh gaze.

“Remus clearly isn’t doing well,” you say, pointing out the obvious, “the least you can do is not look at him like he’s dying.” you add gesturing in the direction of the door, where Remus had walked out of.

“We’re not—”

“Save it,” you cut James off, who makes an attempt to defend the three of them. You roll your eyes, standing from your seat, “I’m going to check on him.” you state before following the previous path of your boyfriend, out the door and to your dorms.

When you arrive in the common room and head towards the boys’ dorm you hear quiet sobs echoing through the door. Your throat tightens and you hesitate to move towards the sound, but you do anyway because you know Remus needs somebody and you’re always willing to be that somebody.

“Remus?” you call out before pushing the door open and are met with a sniffling Remus, eyes red and puffy. Your heart almost breaks in two, the sight enough to make you feel the clenching in your chest and for a moment, you unknowingly hold your breath.

“Hey, lovely.” Remus greets and his voice cracks with the attempt to cover a sob that might’ve escaped his lips.

“Oh, honey.” you whisper and Remus bows his head, with shame or just to wipe the tears off his face, you don’t know. You walk towards the bed before sitting next to him, hand rubbing his shoulder, slowly sliding down to hold his hand, once more, “Do you want to talk about it?” you offer, bringing Remus to lift his head up and meet your gaze, a lump grows in your throat at his broken expression and you try to keep it together for him.

“I’m just so tired—” Remus starts, before a sob escapes his lips. He reaches out for you and you don’t hesitate to bring him into your arms, his head rests on your shoulder, your hands cupping the back of his neck, while his hands wrap around you waist, “ —I don’t want to be like this anymore.” Remus admits, his voice breaking and you feel your shirt dampen with tears.

“Hey, I’m here.” you say, gently running your hands through Remus’s hair and up and down the length of his back, “James, Sirius and Peter are here.” You add and you feel Remus’s sobs turn to sniffles against your shoulder. “Even if they get on your nerves, they mean well.”

“I know…” Remus says, the sound muffled against your shoulder. He lifts his head, your eyes meeting his puffy ones, “Is it okay if we just stay like this?” Remus asks hesitantly, as if you would ever say no to him.

“It’s more than okay.” You whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. You start to shift your body further onto the bed before Remus’s tight grip around your waist prevents you from doing so. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion before hearing Remus’s desperate voice.

“Don’t leave me, please…” Remus begs, clinging onto you.

I’m never going to leave you,” you reply and Remus nods continuously against your shoulder, his hair falling into his face and brushing yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Remus says, his voice shaky but calmer than before, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He admits and your heart warms with his words.

You smile, pulling the both of you back onto his bed in a more comfortable position with his head still tucked into your shoulder, “And you’ll never have to know,” you whisper before you close your eyes and allow yourself to rest.

<3

masterlist . remus lupin masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @jordie-gvf, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker, @moonsupremacy01, @enamoredwithbella

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

#my works ──★ ˙☕️ ̟ !! #masterlist #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot

[theplumsoldier]

loverboy

summary: carmen makes a move on you while you think he's still got a girlfriend. could've gone smoother but you end up inviting him

pairing: carmy berzatto x afab!reader

word count: 4,2k

warnings: insecurities, self-doubt, small lies (carm makes you believe he lives closer to you than he does), vulgar language, mention of "setting boundaries" of a not-yet-existing-fwb-relationship, 18+ MDNI; smut, unprotected sex, semi-public grinding, oral (f&m receiving) soft!carm, idiots in love, friends to lovers!!

"You know, I don't think I've said this." He hadn't. "But I'm-I'm really—we're all really glad to have you here."

He was nodding to himself as he said it, and he hoped you didn't notice the hesitation. Carmy wasn't for a second doubtful that they were happy—he was certainly happy that you had joined the crew during the hectic weeks prior to The Bear's opening.

It was just that now, here, sitting alone with you in the back alley of the restaurant, sharing one of the bottles of expensive-as-shit Coup Beaujolais, he was getting unsure of himself. On whether he had completely misread your banter. He wasn't very good with that, flirting—never knew when someone was hitting on him and always double-checking whether he himself was, in fact, hitting on someone. Richie had said the chemistry between you guys was more dangerous than Fak recalibrating. Fucking stupid, he thought, but it made him think.

And then Carmy realized he had been flirting with you, in his own stupid fucking way which he worried you hadn't picked up on. Shit, he hadn't noticed it before Richie told him. Now that he sat there, with you, alone, he wondered if Richie had been fucking with him again.

Carmy wanted to know how you felt about him, but he didn't want to fuck up as was his specialty lately—didn't wanna make you uncomfortable, didn't wanna make anything weird.

"Yeah, uh. Thanks, chef," said you, chewing at your bottom lip to ease the tension. Carmy had a real habit of making situations awkward. "I'm glad you'll have me."

Phrasing.

Carm nodded, the persistent way he does whenever he's turning words in his head. You could almost hear the gears scraping.

"You always seem so cool—about everything. Like, even though we're jumpin' off the fuckin' walls, screaming n'shit, you'll just—you're collected. S'a real good quality, you know?"

You grinned, thinking of those exact memories, some just a couple of hours old. "Yeah, well—I'm sure it's more hectic n'the kitchen, right? Like there's, open fire, sharp knives and shit. Gotta be jumpin', like, all the time, yeah? To avoid the obstacles n'stuff."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Peter Parker-type shit."

"Yeah."

You held the plastic cup out and he poured you another one.

"Anyway, keeps me sane, you know? I think—I think at some point you made me realize that—that, you know, it's not normal to fuckin' scream all day. Like I didn't even realize I got fuckin' migraines 'til it was quiet, you feel me?"

It made you bubbly, to hear that Carmen did in fact appreciate having you be a part of the team.

You just sat there, quietly watching him. His bicep popped when he poured a slob into his own cup. You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips before taking a sip.

You sat like that, speaking mindlessly for a while, sharing experiences and goofing around. You loved this, getting to know him better, but when you suddenly found that he had sought closer to you, you felt your heart leap.

His body was so close you could feel the heat of his body radiate. It was intoxicating, more than the wine and though your subconscious reminded you it was wrong to lean into his welcoming touch, you couldn't help but forget what was right and wrong.

His crystal blue eyes caught the light from the street lamp, and you were mesmerized as he looked into your soul. You felt vulnerable but safe in his company.

Though there had been much lead-up, it seemed to come out of the blue. Carmy leaned in, and his eyes were fixated on your lips. Before your lips touched, your senses returned and you moved back against the fence.

"Yo, what the fuck are you doing?"

Fuck.

"Wait—I'm sorry! I'm sorry."

"You have a girlfriend!"

Oh.

"Wha—no, no—shit, that's not—" he stumbled back, running a hand over his dazed face, dragging the expression down with it.

Fuck—fuck! Carmen thought he must look like a fucking jagoff.

He stood with his back to you, but you could see the way his broad shoulders heaved with every.

You pushed, not appreciating the silence. "Yeah, no—her name is Claire. You've been dating her a couple months now and known her, for like, forever. That ring any bells?"

When Carmen turned around to face you, he looked defeated. He then crouched down beside you again.

"We broke up."

What?

Carmen told you how he had had an existential crisis during opening night, how he had thought he vented to Tina while stuck in the walk-in, and Claire had heard everything he had said. You could sense the sadness in his voice, but there was no regret. It spread a warm feeling in your chest, and you immediately felt a pang of guilt. When you had first met Carm, he had been with Claire and so the immediate attraction you had felt—well, you had obviously tried to suppress that.

"—I guess I just... I realized I can't both manage a—a restaurant and a relationship. I—I don't know, it don't come natural to me."

Your brows were furrowed, mixed feeling prickling at your skin. "So... why'd you try to kiss me just now?"

Again, he looked despondent.

"I—fuck, I don't know, I've—I guess I've just been feeling this for a while now, with—with you and I dunno. Richie's been getting in my head and I had a stupid thought and figured fuck it, you know?"

It wasn't a question but he was looking for an answer on your expression. Carmen feared you had stopped him from kissing you, not because you thought he had a girlfriend, but because you didn't want to kiss him.

Carmy watched as you looked thoughtfully at the ground, his hands fidgeting as you did the same.

Fuck.

It's over, he thought to himself.

Battling the voices in your head telling you not to, you said: "You know, it's not that the thought of kissing you, like, disgusts me."

His head tilted upward, hope in his sorry eyes.

"No?" he quizzed sheepishly.

"No," you chuckled. "I mean, I've thought about it before."

Carm lit up. "Ye—yeah?"

"Yeah," nodded you, wetting your lips as you recalled your fantasies. "It'd probably be stupid though, right?"

"So stupid," he agreed, nodding vigorously as if trying to shake the thought. It would be fucking stupid. He knew it. But it didn't deter him. Carm wanted to take the chance. He shouldn't, after all, he broke it off with Claire because he "wasn't ready". Why would he be ready now? "Still want to, though."

So badly. It felt more like an urge; a need rather than a want.

"So do it," you finally tested.

If you didn't, you were sure you'd back out, run into the kitchen with your tail between your legs. But you would regret that, you knew it. You tried to convince yourself you shouldn't back away. You wanted this—had for a while. Carm was the one who should second-guess himself, not you. He had ended a relationship because he couldn't dedicate himself and now he wanted to give it another shot. With you. It made you desperate, knowing he wanted you like you wanted him. Still, you worried he would kiss you and regret it immediately, confirmed in his suspicions—he didn't have time for romance. Keep your eye on the price.

"Fuck it," breathed he, putting aside an internal battle and leaned closer, knocking aside the bottle of wine as he pressed his hungry lips to you.

Your lips felt plump against his, chewed with anticipation and soft with spit. You tasted like a perfect dessert.

Lost in the growing heat, you cradled his face, swiping your warm tongue over his needy lips and Carmen did not hesitate to grant you entrance. A desperate although soft whine escaped him and you swallowed it down, living for the way he desired you.

Without interrupting the dance your tongues twirled, Carmen's large palm grasped your hip and pulled you into his lap. Automatically you ground down on him and moaned at the sensation of what you did to him.

You'd thought about how he would feel against you. From behind the bar, you always had a perfect view of his station and often got distracted by the way he moved—the way his mouth curled when he would scream commands, the way his arms would flex as he worked. It was a surprise nobody had filed a complaint against you. On more than one occasion you had mixed the wrong drink or spilled liquor because you just couldn't keep your eyes off of him. It was unprofessional, but he was mesmerizing like a starry sky; the longer you looked, the deeper you fell into the abyss.

Carmen mumbled a curse under his breath as he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he ground up into your clothes sex.

"Do—doesn't feel so stupid, huh?"

You grinned and shook your head lightly, pressing your forehead against his.

"If we're gonna fuck we should probably talk about it," you said blatantly. "Set some ground rules."

Carmen was caught off guard for a second. He knew what he wanted but when you said it so casually it made something twitch in him.

His eyes were attached to your lips. They looked so delicious, kissed rough and he pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb before he even registered it.

"Probably," he breathed even though he wasn't quite sure what your words actually meant. He was quite literally thinking with his cock.

Carmen clashed his insatiable lips to yours again, but the second he did so, the back door to The Bear clicked open and Marcus appeared, garbage bags in hand. By the time you looked up at him, you had clumsily shuffled off of Carmen, sitting awkwardly with your legs to your chest. You weren't sure what he'd seen nor what he made of it.

"Hey," he hummed, moving to sling the plastic bags into the container.

"Sup, bro," acknowledged Carm, putting his hands on his hips, suddenly standing up, playing it cool.

"Imma call it a night," Marcus said. "See y'all tomorrow."

"Yeah, uh—good job t'day."

Marcus disappeared and Carmen looked back down at you, holding out a hand to help you to your feet. The interruption had broken the spell.

"Can I walk you home?" he offered. It made more sense to him, taking you home. He wasn't about to violate health code on the kitchen floor of his own restaurant.

"You live close to Maygrey?"

No.

"Yeah."

The walk might do him some good, he figured. Perhaps the chivalrous gesture would help him get lucky tonight, and even if you decided you were not about to fool around with him, he could at least say he had done a good deed today.

Carm hadn't realized you made a twenty-minute walk every night, and although he often did the same, it bothered him a great deal. He hadn't had any uncomfortable encounters himself, but he knew Sugar had. One time when she had been late to dinner at his place because of some creep bothering her on the street, and he had asked her why she hadn't called him (he would have picked her up), she told him it was not a first nor was it a last. It angered him, knowing it was not unusual for a woman to feel afraid when walking alone.

Carmen recalled your mention of ground rules, but you didn't once embark on the topic. Instead of talking about sex, you joked as if you were friends and nothing more. It made him wonder if you regretted kissing him.

Of course you invited him up. How could you not?

Carm looked dubious suddenly and you raised a brow, giving him a soft smile.

"I won't be mad if you turn me down now. No hard feelings."

He realized you were just a pair of self-doubting idiots—none of you wanting to pressure the other into something you might regret. And Carmen knew he might just do that—not because he was unsure whether he wanted this with you (he hadn't wanted something this much in a long time), no—he feared he would find himself in the same emotional clusterfuck he had with Claire.

Something about you made him want to throw caution to the wind and become the loverboy he so pathetically wanted to be for you.

How could he ever turn you down? A simple kiss in a back alley had dragged him in too deep.

You stood atop the staircase and watched curiously as Carmen closed the space. His hand cradled your face and he planted a soft kiss on your lips, not as vigorous a kiss as earlier that night, but just as hungry, just as passionate.

He then gave you a reassuring look and you knew you had it bad cause you could've sworn you fell in love with him just then.

Grabbing his hand you dragged him along with you, eagerly pulling him up the steps to your apartment, not wasting a goddamn second in connecting your lips again.

Carm chuckled against your lips as you pushed him into the door, closing it with him as if locking you away from the outside world. It was just the two of you.

Carmen was too far away to realize you had undone his belt until the familiar clinking sounded. He was so fucking hard by now, aroused by your eagerness. It was almost mortifying.

He composed himself. "Where's the bedroom?"

You gave him a look. "It's a one-room apartment, Carm."

For the first time, he looked around and got the message. The kitchen was awkwardly lodged into a small corner of the living room and the living room was also the bedroom. There was a door three feet ahead but he was unsure whether it was a closet or a bathroom.

"So when I fuck you on the couch I'll also be fucking you in the dining room?"

You looped your arms around his front from behind, pointing to the corner of the room. "Yeah, n'the trashcan over there's the bathroom."

He spun around, placing his large hands on your hips to keep you close. "Cozy."

There was a glimmering to his eyes, and his contagious charm infected you with an enticing smirk. You leaned in, cradling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

"So you gonna fuck me Carmy? Or are ya just all talk?" teased you, planting wet kisses against his throat, sucking the place below his ear. That's the spot.

In a flash, he hooked your legs around his waist and you would've been embarrassed by the stupid fucking giggle escaping you if a low moan hadn't interrupted you. His restrained cock felt even bigger now, pressing up into your clothed crotch.

You could hardly wait to see his weeping head.

Carmen straddled you on the couch, breaking your lips apart to shift his focus. Peppering kisses down your neck, your chest heaved with a shaky breath, whining for him. You wondered if he would flip you over and fuck you roughly if you asked nicely.

Another time you told yourself. Tonight, you were too ecstatic as he worshipped your body like the prettiest fucking tenderloin he'd ever seen. The thought made you smile into your arm, gasping as his hot breath swept over your belly.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he murmured against your skin, tongue poking out to taste the flesh.

Writhing beneath him, you tugged at his curls, and he swore he was about to bust right there, with your glossy and dazed eyes blinking down at him. Fuck, Carm wanted to hear you beg for him.

"What is it, baby girl?" he taunted, looking curiously at you while he peppered kisses across the skin he exposed by lifting up your shirt.

When you ground up your hips to show him where you wanted him, he kept you pressed against the cushion. You cried out.

"Carmy!" you mewled, helplessly thrashing.

After removing your shirt, he praised your patience: "you're so good for me," he said and unbuttoned your jeans. "Tell me what you want, sweet girl."

You threw your head back into a pillow with a thud, wanting to both strangle and fuck him (which you had wanted many times already since you started bartending at The Bear) as he pressed teasing, open-mouthed kisses by the seams of your panty line.

"Just—mpff! Fuck me already, Carm," you whined.

His face tilted up and you wanted to slap the smirk right off of his sly face. "In a minute, baby."

As he moved back a little, you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, but when you arched your back with need he used your movements to flip you onto your stomach. He roughly placed you as he pleased, propping you on your knees, and slid in under you.

"Just a quick taste, baby," he drawled.

Realizing he was gonna eat you out, you melted completely, seated perfectly on his face as was his wish. You barely managed to get comfortable before he hooked a finger through the leg of your underwear, the cold of his ring making you shiver and he dug in like a man starved.

A sound bordering on a thirsty moan and a dry cry escaped you. Carmen looped his arms around your thighs. His tongue explored the nooks of your lips, lapping slick from your folds and into your pussy.

A string of curses left your lips as he relished your juices, groaning into your cunt. He couldn't help but relieve some of the pressure on his impossibly hard cock by palming himself through his jeans.

He had lost himself for a moment there and when he looked up, he became doe-eyed with adoration. You had removed your bra.

His hand left his cock and slid up your curves, palming your breast instead and the other went to deftly work your clit. He elicited a muffled shriek from you, obviously surprised by the sudden added sensation to the delicate bud.

"Carmy," you panted, grinding your hips against his mouth, all of it seeming both too much and not enough. He was going to ruin you and you would let him. "Fu—fuck! M'gonna come, Carm."

Your confession merely made him more eager, more hungry and he concentrated on bringing you closer, encouraging each wave of your hips with a low moan. Carmen let you fuck his face, rolling and grinding on him to persuade your release closer. You grabbed at his curls to steady yourself as it came in euphoric waves, moaning, crying, whimpering, and grinning as he lapped your cum, savoring every last drop. It quickly became too much though, and as his nose tickled your sensitive clit, you fell apart, tilting over and crashing above him.

"Ho—holy fuck," you panted and he stood up from the couch, ridding himself of his clothes until there was nothing but a gold chain gleaming at his chest.

Still recovering from your orgasm, you gaped at his size. The head was red and strained, pre-cum beading the slit making it look like it was crying. The shaft was long with protruding veins drawing purple along the length and he was thick, too thick to fit in the circle created when you connect the tip of your index with that of your thumb.

He was perfect.

Carmen looked a bit flustered from your shameless gawking but you couldn't help it. "You're beautiful, Carm."

He grinned sheepishly down at you, grasping your legs, pulling you to the edge of the couch, resting your calves on his shoulders.

"You are," he insisted, pressing his lips to yours in a feverishly soft kiss as he aligned his head with your folds.

Gasping, you took a second to relax around his head, knowing it would sting painfully if you didn't. You wouldn't let anything ruin this moment. Not with his eyes gazing so intensely down at you; not with saliva connecting your mouths with a string, not with him before you like this, looking like he was carved by fucking Donatello, nothing hiding an inch of his tantalizingly soft skin bar the gold chain dangling from his neck.

You instinctively edged closer, putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him into you. He eased into you as he kissed you hungrily—insatiable, always needing more of your taste.

Carm held his breath as he bottomed out, finally exhaling a shaky breath. He couldn't believe how good you felt around him, hugging—no squeezing the life out of his cock as you desperately clawed on his back, feeling every cleft and hill, moaning into his mouth. He hoped your nails would leave marks on his skin.

With your forehead pressed against his, you looked down with hooded eyes and watch as he slid in, devastatingly slow, inch by inch. Carm followed your gaze.

"God, look how good you're takin' me, baby. Doin' so well f'me—doin' so good," he groaned, head digging into your neck, licking, sucking, biting.

He commenced a thrusting-grinding pace, reaching every crevice inside you, tickling all the right places. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure so delicious as he poked and prodded places untouched. He felt unreal.

Soon Carmen drilled into you like a madman, steadying himself against your hips, rutting into you at a bruising pace. You'd feel him long after he was gone.

You held him close by his neck, securing him by threading your fingers through that damn sexy gold chain and the locks of his hair. His brows were furrowed, concentration and bliss evident in his expression.

You begged him to go faster, harder—before you knew it he granted your wish and his hand had returned to your poor clit, and you grasped whatever you could, the armrest, cushions, him.

You chanted his name, exchanging your vocabulary for his name so that he was all you knew. Carm fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own as you cried his name. The combination of your moans, your begging, and the vulgar sounds of your skin slapping—it made him fucking delirious.

His bicep flexed delectably as he put all his weight on his right arm, making a considerate pause for a sweet but overwhelmingly intense kiss, only to thrust impossibly deeper.

Feeling his consistent pace become erratic, you begged him. "Please, please, Carm—fill me up."

You could feel your frantic pleas going straight to his cock as he twitched inside you, groaning—but fuck it sounded like a frail whimper.

The furrow between his brows deepened, a red blush painting his face and chest.

"You're fuckin' unreal," he manages, shaking his head.

Carmy's pace became sloppier and more desperate, cursing into your mouth as he stuttered, a strangled moan signaling his high.

He filled you up, squirting white ropes of velvety cum into you. You felt his seed trickle out as if there was not enough room for his generous load. Then he collapsed beside you.

You lay still for a minute or so, chests heaving in unison as you came back down to Earth.

"Fuck," he said after some time, pronouncing the cuss as if he had just learned the word.

You chuckled, agreeing. "Yeah."

"Shit, lemme get ya somethin' for the—"

"No, no—don't worry," you stopped him, already getting up before he could do much. He watched you go, admiring your naked body. You reached between your legs, feeling his cum trickle down your thighs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

Carmy laughed when he realized what was going on, a sort of childish grin he couldn't hold back from rumbling in his chest. He hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time.

You disappeared out of sight. He heard water running splash and he figured you were cleaning yourself. Carmen wondered if he would get to fill you up again—preferably sometime soon.

You returned with a damp washcloth, your feet padding softly against the floor as you approached him. Carm couldn't help but smile endearingly as he went to move to free up space for you, but you placed a soft hand on his thigh as if telling him to lie still instead.

"Oh—" he began when he noticed the washcloth, but to his surprise you wrapped your lips around his cock, earning a strangled moan from him. Your warm tongue licked him clean and you hollowed your cheeks around him as if vacuuming his mess.

The pleasure turned into a ticklish feeling and he felt like grinning and kicking his feet suddenly. You looked up through your lashes, and he felt as if his eyes had remolded into heart shapes.

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with such tooth-rotting affection it made him wonder if he loved you. In this situation, it felt natural to say to you—it felt easy and welcome, right on the tip of his tongue.

You offered him an enchanting smile and took his large hand to your mouth, kissing his knuckles, then began cleaning his cock with the washcloth.

Carmen's head dropped back at your touch and he exhaled deeply.

A smile danced across his face and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand; the one you had kissed.

What am I going to do with you?

#theplumsoldier #carmy x reader #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear carmy #the bear #jeremy allen white #the bear fx

[politemenacephd]

The Surrogate (Part One)

Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18)

Part two Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.

Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.

notes: i am working on arachnophilia, shits jst kinda rough, but i started this a while ago, enjoy x

‘You want what?!’

You almost spat out your drink in shock, unsure if you’d really heard what you’d just heard correctly. It was a miracle you didn’t accidentally spit alcohol into your companions faces.

You were sat in a booth at the bar all the spiders went to in Nueva York when off duty. It was pristine and white like almost everything else in this world, with floating tables and neon lights adorning the walls in various space themed shapes.

You’d been here a couple times before yourself, but tonight was different.

You’d been brought here by two of your friends from the Spider Society; Peter, one of the older ones, and Miguel, the head of the entire institute and Peter’s very open partner. They’d been incredibly cryptic about why they’d wanted to meet, with Peter simply insisting over and over that it was important, that they needed you to hear them out, and though you’d rolled your eyes a bit as he followed you around the HQ like a lost dog you’d eventually relented to his pleading.

You were now very aware of why they’d been so cryptic.

As you wiped away the small dribble of drink left sliding down your chin, Miguel and Peter continued to watch you in silence. Miguel was fixed with his usual sombre expression while Peter beamed at his side, hands clasped on the table in an inviting, open manner. It was the strangest contrast.

‘Just, think about it!’ Peter said. ‘That’s all we’re asking!’

‘No, no—wait, so I heard correctly?’ you stammered. Peter and Miguel shot each other a look before turning back to you in unison. After some nudging from Peter, Miguel forced a similar patient smile onto his face.

‘Yes. You, heard correctly’ he said. You gabbed at them both.

‘I—So, you, want me to be your surrogate?’ you repeated dumbly. The two men nodded.

‘W…. why?’ you asked, your voice audibly wheezing as you darted between the two. The two men just glanced at each other. They seemed almost dumbfounded that you would ask such a question, like they hadn’t anticipated your immediate acceptance.

‘Well, we… We love the girls, so much, and—we just, we want another one’ Peter said. ‘It’s all we talk about at home! Every night, how May and Gabi deserve a sibling, and—recently they started talking about it too, and—we can’t tell them no!’

‘But, I mean—sure, that’s great, but Why me? Why are you coming straight to me? Have you guys ruled out adoption, or… I mean I’m just, surprised? Or, confused? Definitely confused’ you replied slowly.

‘Ah, no, we haven’t… ruled it out, per say’ Peter said with a shrug. ‘Just—it’s, hard to work out adoption when uh—’

‘Peter isn’t from this universe’ Miguel bluntly interrupted. You could hear the slight sadness in his voice. ‘And—with my genetics, and my background, it—the government would never allow it.’

‘Oh… Oh, I see. But, why me then?’ you stammered. You were on good terms with the two men, that was true enough, but you hadn’t thought you were this close. It was so out of left field as well.

‘We—ran an analysis on whose genetics would be best suited for the role’ Miguel muttered. You noticed that he looked embarrassed to be admitting this. ‘Because of what happened to me, how my DNA was spliced, it’s tricky. I’m not genetically compatible with a lot of people. You were, one of five candidates, and we believed you were the best.’

You couldn’t help but wonder who the other candidates were, but more so you were stuck on the idea of needing to be genetically compatible. You knew Miguel was unusual, but, that unusual?

‘So, you came to me first, huh?’ you asked, lightly stirring your drink.

‘Yes!’ Peter hissed. He was leaning in over his lap with his fists tucked to his chest, his eyes wide and desperate. ‘Yes! Because we trust you!’

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet insistence. ‘Hey, guys, I like you too, but—’

‘We’ll compensate you’ Peter insisted. ‘We will! Miguel will pay WHATEVER you want. The entire time we’ll pay for housing, food, medical care. You will be absolutely safe. And, along with that, we’ll give you a full payment after the babies born as thanks! We’ll—’

‘Hey, hey, woah!’ You raised your hands to try and slow the man down as he began physically crawling over the table in his excitement. Miguel grunted and silently grabbed his collar, dragging him back to his seat. Peter squirmed a little in his partner’s tight grip. ‘I’m just explaining, I—’

‘Look, that—that’s all amazing. I just—’ You were silenced as Peter reached over once more to slap down a cheque on the table. You darted your eyes at the two men before lifting it up.

‘Holy…. Shit’ you hissed.

It was a lot. A LOT of money. Not so much as to be impossible or unreasonable, but enough to make your stomach drop.

‘I—you’d, give me this?’ you stammered.

‘Yes! For your labour and time’ Peter said. ‘Fair compensation.’

You paused. This amount of money was enough to make a serious, permanent difference in your life. You’d told yourself you could cope, that you could just put up with the status quo, but this changed everything. And what, all you had to do was carry their baby for nine months?

Peter leaned closer. ‘Are you, just not comfortable with pregnancy, or—’

‘No’ you said, eyes still fixed on the cheque. ‘No, it’s—fine, just… Are we, doing this like, casually?’

‘I’m willing to pay for us to both have lawyers. You can choose yours, so you’re comfortable, just bill me ahead of time for the cost. We’ll draft up contracts to be sure no boundaries are broken, and to ensure you have a legal right to what we say we owe you, and of course with clauses to protect your personal autonomy’ Miguel explained. Man, when he talked business he was so commanding, you thought.

‘Huh. Okay. I mean… I, I guess I, would be fine with that’ you muttered back.

‘I understand this would be a large undertaking’ Miguel said, his body leaning a little closer. You watched with wide and curious eyes as his arm came down over the table. You were fixated on the bulge of his bicep, nearly the size of your head now bursting from the seam of his slim fit shirt. It made you a little dizzy, as did the thick, dark hair across his forearm. You watched his calloused fingers drumming on the table, revelling in the clack of his talons.

Peter must have seen you eyeing him because he rushed to hide his smug smile. He knew you were giving in.

‘I’m taking it seriously. You will be compensated, you will be cared for. I just need to know that you understand what you’re getting into. We… Trust you, well enough. That’s why we’re asking you. We trust that you’d have our best interests as heart, just as we’d have yours’ Miguel said slowly. You nodded.

‘Okay. Sure. So, do we do invitro, or—’

The way their faces changed caused you to stutter on your words. They glanced at each other, their faces strained, as if they dreaded what they had to say next. Miguel pumped his brow once before turning away, leaving Peter to sigh and address you alone. Clearly Miguel didn’t trust himself to deliver whatever the bargain was.

‘We… Ideally, we, would like a… natural, conception’ Peter said, his voice dipping slightly on the word ‘natural.’

You felt all the blood rush from your head, only to rise back up and fill your cheeks with a pulsating warmth. Natural? Conception?

‘So… You, would want to get me pregnant—’

‘Physically. By us’ Miguel said. You hated how you shuddered slightly at his voice, at that smooth, husky, sombre tone. It slid down your ears like silk.

‘It’s just, our preference’ Peter explained with a lopsided smile. ‘Miguel’s not a fan of, sterile environments like an invitro lab, brings back bad memories you know? And—well we don’t like the idea of anyone having access to his genes, or mine, that’s bad news. Plus, it’s less stress on you, theoretically. No doctors poking you, or injecting thing, blegh. You know. You know, of course you know.’

You nodded along slowly as he spoke. I mean, it made sense. You had felt some concern when it was first brought up but they both seemed sincere, like this was just the best option, and they seemed so excited. You decided to continue entertaining this idea.

‘Ah… Sure. So, would it just be, one, of you? Like we work out who we want, or—’

‘Well, I mean, we’re not fussed about who the biological father is’ Peter said, his lip tilting into a shy half-smile. ‘It can be either of us. But, chances of success are higher if, we… both, are, trying.’

You raised both brows as you slowly realized what he was coyly implying. ‘You—so, both of you? You’d, both be having sex with me?’

‘Yyyyeaahh’ Peter said. His dorky smile was so annoyingly sweet, you thought glumly, especially on such a handsome face. You always struggled to say no to him. ‘It’s just, like we said, ensure it happens quicker.’

‘And you’re both fine with this?’

‘Yes! We discussed it before, I made the big guy go to therapy first’ Peter said, playfully tugging on Miguel’s arm as the man stoically stared into the distance. He was putting on a stern face but he was clearly endeared by Peter’s affectionate attitude. ‘Its fine! It’s easier, with you being a friend, because you know us and you respect our relationship already.’

‘I sure do’ you said with a slight laugh.

‘See? Exactly! But yes, we talked about it, we know it’s just business. Well, I mean—not to say, it can’t be fun, I mean that’s what they say right? Making the baby is the fun part—’

‘Peter, please’ Miguel groaned between gritted teeth.

‘What? What! What did I say?’ Peter whined. You stifled your laughter as the two bickered.

‘What I’m saying is, we wouldn’t expect you to just, lie on your back like a brood mare and, uh—just, put up with it’ Peter said in a hushed voice as he returned to you. ‘We’re happy to both be involved, we’re happy to, make sure you’re enjoying yourself too, just—we’ll work out the boundaries.’

Again, you nodded slowly. It was a lot to take in, but they seemed to understand that.

‘Just… Just, gimme a minute’ you asked as you picked up your drink. Miguel nodded while Peter went into a ramble about how fine that was, words which you quickly tuned out as you disassociated into your own thoughts.

It was all happening so fast. You supposed you’d have time after this to work it out, though, They said there’d be contracts drawn up, that would take time. Just… did you want to do this?

Having the baby sounded scary, but as they said it’d be around the clock care. With the head of the spider society and all his equipment on hand it’d be hard to imagine something going wrong. You did also trust the two of them, they were your friends and had proven themselves to be good men. Well, most of the time.

And it wasn’t that you were opposed to sleeping with either of them. They were unbelievably attractive, each in their own unique way. Miguel was gorgeous, a top heavy giant with beautiful eyes and such a deep and expressive face, and Peter had that sweet DILF charm about him. They both did, really.

So what was the hang up? Really, WAS there a hang up? It felt like there should be one, but, the more you thought about it, the more you realized you couldn’t find one.

9 months of work was rough, real rough, but you’d be cared for to the max. You’d be paid an extraordinary amount, enough to change your life. You’d be done and over, a clean cut single job once it was done, and supposedly you’d have your own lawyer to ensure you were protected.

Should everything go to plan… It sounded, almost perfect.

You just had to suck up the courage to lie down and let these two men put a baby in you. The moment you contemplated the thought, your face started to heat up, and you rushed to take a drink to cool it down.

“Okay. Ah, can I… Speak?” You asked, awkwardly calling back their attention. The two men turned to you in unison.

“Okay…” you said slowly, before taking another, conclusive breath. “Okay. I’m in. If—”

‘OH! YES, THANK YOU!”

Your response was cut short as Peter flung himself over the table and wrapped you into a bear hug, an embrace so tight that you could barely breath. Miguel simply offered a sympathetic, if slightly exasperated smile over Peter’s back, before helping to claw the man back once more. “Thank you, thank you- oh this means so much to us!” Peter stammered, ignoring your attempts to quiet him. You could feel other people staring across the bar now and it was becoming quite distracting.

“Yeah, yeah, just- Okay, I happy to start the process. I do want that lawyer, uh- not that I don’t trust you guys, but, like you said it’s a big deal’ you said. Miguel grunted approvingly.

‘I wouldn’t have wanted you for the job if you hadn’t accepted that’ he replied, idly glancing at his nails. ‘I’d only accept someone who was, well… Smart enough to set boundaries, even if we are friends.’

‘Right, right. Good. That’s- good’ you said. At this point your mind was racing. You’d accepted the offer, but, what now? It’d probably be a while before any action happened but the sudden, daunting realization that action *would* happen hit you like a truck. You glanced over to where Miguel and Peter were now deep in conversation.

God, they were both huge. Huge. Miguel especially was enormous, nearly 6ft 9 with that thick neck and toned upper torso, the glint of his chiselled collar bone gleaming beneath the neon bar lights. Peter wasn’t as muscular but he was still tall, nearly as tall as Miguel, and he had that quiet, unsuspecting dad-bod strength about him.

You felt your shoulders hunch a little. You had no idea what to expect going forward here, all you knew is that—

‘Hey, sorry, are you gonna finish this those?’

You jumped back to reality to find Peter pointing across you at the table. Your eyes slowly followed his finger, which you realized was pointing at a half-finished bowl of fries you’d got when you arrived after missing dinner. Your eyes shot back up.

‘Uh… I mean, probably not, no’ you said. Peter didn’t say anything more; he just made that sweet, pleading puppy dog face and tilted his head a little. You and Miguel both sighed in unison, but you willingly slid them over to him.

“Oh thank you—” Peter said before his words were turned to garbled mess as he finished the bowl. You turned awkwardly back to Miguel instead. “I’ll send the paperwork over tomorrow” Miguel said, pre-empting your immediate thoughts. “We’re in no rush, so, we’ll work out the details at your pace.” ‘Aha, ah- sure. Thanks. I mean I’m, assuming it’ll be a long process anyway, right?” you replied.

Miguel tilted his head a little. ‘You mean, the pregnancy? Yes, though, I’ve heard it goes quicker than you think. We’ll do all we can to—’

‘OH, no! Not like, the pregnancy specifically” you elaborated, hands now raised. That drew Peter to look up from devouring everyone else’s meal, his eyes curiously fixed on you. Miguel’s stony red gaze remained locked in much the same way.

‘I mean the uh… The, baby making process’ you explained, giving a shrug to try and ease the awkwardness of saying such a thing. Miguel didn’t flinch though; he continued to stare, his head slightly tilted. ‘Like, making a baby can take… months, up to a year even. We’ll have to work around that timeframe I assume’ you said, finishing your point in a rather stilted manner.

Peter turned to look at Miguel. The neon lights were blaring at his back, shadowing his face until his features popped. So sharp, so thick-set, so chiselled. To your surprise, he suddenly smiled in a way you’d never seen before. He gave you a smug, wolfish grin, flashing just an inch of fang.

‘Oh, no. Don’t you worry about that’ he murmured, his voice unnervingly confident. You blinked and watched with a burning core as Miguel leaned forward to finish.

‘It won’t take long at all.’

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman atsv #atsv peter b parker #miguel x peter #miguel x y/n

[keisobe]

౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐁 (𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 + 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚) ⋮ heavily suggestive. age difference. 18+ reader. cheating. ooc. ⎯ spiderdads love having you as their little intern.

recently receiving a spider watch after a year of your debut as spider-woman in your dimension, you made it your ultimate duty to live up to the expectations of your variant superiors. your forthcoming nature and free time was open to anyone, but you found yourself always being in the radar of peter and miguel.

it would start off with innocent requests.

“hey kid, is it fine if you could grab me some coffee?” peter would smile at your enthusiastic nod and hand you his ‘number one dad’ mug. by now you know peter’s order— steaming hot coffee with powdered creamer.

“kid, transfer these files to sector 3.” miguel wouldn’t even look at you, but you still flashed a grin and began to sprint through the bustling hallway. you also learned he liked the empanadas at the cafeteria.

and in exchange of completed requests, you’ve found yourself looped into their peculiar ways to regard your work.

“good girl.” peter’s voice was hushed and deep as he sweetly patted your head, taking a careful sip of his aromatic coffee with an attractive grin. he left you a little stunned after that, or more so a blushing mess. then you watched him go back into his usual ‘i’m a proud dad’ routine and attend to mayday back in his dimension.

“gracias cari– u-umm i mean thanks… kid.” miguel uncharacteristically fumbles his words as he finally darts his ruby eyes away from the glowing, holographic screens, looking into your eyes with actual acknowledgement of your presence. his gaze was intense, a sense of longing in them. then he abruptly dismisses you, leaving you with a sense of wonder as to what just happened as you exited his lab.

it was always a special occasion when the two of them would be together.

“kiddo, you free?” peter shouted as he waved you down in the midst of you finishing a small errand for jess.

you responded with a firm nod as you sent jess a brief message on your watch. the smile you wore slightly faltered at the sight of a weirdly unreadable miguel beside peter— eyes glittering with a shade of red that you’ve never seen before. it made you feel on edge. nonetheless, you approach the two with a determined glow on your face as you let them lead you with peter filling in the awkward silence with his little quips and sarcastic comments towards miguel.

at this point, you've been working for the spider society for three months now. the teasing remarks from the other spider-people toned down and you’re finally classified as a real agent, exclusively working alongside miguel, jessica, and peter. and even through the fantastic upbringings in your life, something has been eating at you— more correctly, two people have been making your life miserably complicated.

miguel was by far the most interesting person you’ve met. his past takes a toll on him every counting day and the integral goal he based his life around is to never repeat his one mistake. although he’s very calloused and irritable, you admired his ambition and the rare moments his cold demeanor would falter to reveal a huge dork (in no other dimension have you ever seen a grown man get bullied by his own ai). as much as miguel shared a huge part of himself to you, he seemed far more content with being completely alone and devoting his life to a vow he made that day his daughter and an entire universe was wiped from existence.

peter, sarcastic and careless in nature, recently became an attentive father. it was endearing to see, considering the various stories of his depressing upbringing would make your warm lunch turn ice cold and soggy within a minute into his sulky narration (you might’ve avoided spending your lunch breaks with him afterwards). and his rekindling love with mary-jane finally gave him a sense of comfort and relief of a normal, happy family life. peter gave you a sting of hope that things will somehow turn out okay in the end. it made you feel closer to him, until you remembered that he was just sharing some old, adult wisdom to you.

and that was fine with you. you can totally push aside your small crushes for peter and miguel. one was emotionally unavailable and one was in a stable relationship with a beautiful daughter. plus they were your bosses and twice your age. so why? why is that miguel would linger a little longer whenever you announced that you’ll be going back to your dimension? why is that peter’s brown eyes would brighten up whenever you held mayday lovingly in your arms?

it didn’t help when miguel would start to call you endearing pet names with a genuine smile on his face, or when peter would situate you on his lap as he nuzzle his nose into your neck just because ‘it felt comfortable’. this conundrum made you think that you were completely losing your damn mind, that somehow you were looking too deep into the lines. but you concluded it was just all a huge misunderstanding on your part.

yeah, that’s what it was.

“you have to be quiet, okay?”

peter mumbles in the shell of ear as he clumsily discards your tight spider suit in the corner of the room while miguel makes sure that all the doors are sealed shut and locked from prying eyes.

it was normal just a few minutes ago. peter ribbing miguel with his usual dry humor, and miguel ignoring his antics to tick him off while leading you both to what you presumed to be a private conference room to discuss the important matters of anomalies.

but when the three of you nearly approach the door, peter suddenly stops talking. cautiously looking around his surroundings, peter presses himself closer and subtly grinds his hips onto the softness of your ass while miguel’s lingering hand gropes the curve of your tits— his neutral expression completely taunting your shattering composure. this is where your actual conundrum begins.

the room continued to hiss as the electric engines faintly knocked on the metal walls. the dimmed lights that made your very inappropriate circumstances much more intimate than it should be.

the chiseled arch of miguel’s cheekbones brushed the plush skin of your spread thighs, his sharp canines eagerly leaving tender marks that were reserved for only the three of you to look at. each bite and suck left you weakly whimpering his name with growing anticipation.

it was lonely back in your dimension, your bed was cold without another body to warm it up. returning back to an empty apartment would elicit forbidden thoughts— ones that held you in a heated daze until you realize you’re dumbly standing in the middle of the room and shamelessly yearning to open another portal to be in the arms of peter and miguel.

god, this was so wrong.

“aw, do you want more kid?” peter teasingly asks as his stumble scrapes along your jawline, leaving marks of his own along the junction of your neck.

miguel gazed up at your troubled expression, an amused smirk dancing along the swell of your inner thighs.

morals, pay attention to your morals.

you nodded eagerly, a force of habit after attending to the various needs of your superiors, but miguel wouldn’t take that as an answer.

“you have to tell us cariño.” miguel grumbles in between his love bites— crimson eyes glowing under the dull light.

oh well.

“yes! please, i need more.”

peter and miguel muse at your neediness, swiftly changing their positions as they propped you comfortably on a table placed in the middle of the room. you flinched from the chilling contact, but you were immediately warmed up when both men knelt down— each hooking an arm around your quivering legs and indecently displaying you as they spread your limbs. they move like they were on the same wavelength, finally agreeing on one thing.

guilt pinged in your stomach once again when peter’s wedding band brushes against your skin and miguel’s spider watch brightly flashes with pilled voice memos urgently calling for his assistance.

obviously annoyed, miguel hastily pries off the pinging watch and puts it aside while peter eagerly tucks his wedding ring in the pocket of his discarded pink robe. weirdly, their visible desperation to have their attention focused on you filled you with pride.

finally, two pairs of eyes were trained on you, sparkling with a hypnotizing red and a drunken brown. their previous notions left no ounce of guilt, instead it made them hyper focused with lust.

“don’t worry querida,” miguel gruffly murmurs as he snags your underwear with a sharp finger. “peter and i will take good care of you.”

“but don’t tell anyone kiddo.” peter cuts in, a subtle grin on his face but through his playful tone, he was dead serious.

you compliantly nodded.

of course, you won’t tell a single soul.

KEISOBE © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

#✩.*˚ — ina’s works🎂 #ੈ♡˳ — (atsv) 📁 #ੈ♡˳ — (spiderverse) 📁 #— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : drabbles #ੈ♡˳ — (peter b parker) 🎞️ #ੈ♡˳ — (miguel o hara) 🎞️ #peter b parker smut #miguel o’hara smut #atsv smut #miguel o’hara x reader #peter b parker x reader #spiderverse x reader #miguel o’ hara x you #peter b parker x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #peter b parker x y/n #atsv fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader x peter b parker #miguel o’hara x peter b parker x reader #miguel o’hara x reader smut #peter b parker x reader smut

[ellecdc]

All's Fair in Love & Chaos

1st instalment (read the second here)

a short blurb style mini-series in collaboration with @unstablereader no real plot, just vibes and comedy.

Synopsis: soulmate au, everyone's soulmate's initials become visible on their wrist when the last person in the bond 'comes of age' (I've left the age ambiguous because their may be mature insinuations later on in the story). As luck would have it, and much to everyone's horror; it appeared that you, Barty Crouch Junior, and Sirius Black were soulmates

poly!DeathStar x fem!reader

The day that every witch, wizard, and wix alike waited their whole life for finally came for Sirius Black; the day that their soulmate’s initials became visible on your wrist.

The mark becomes visible when the last person of your soulmate bond comes of age. For example, much to Lily’s chagrin, the initials J.F.P became visible on her wrist on March 27th, as did the initials L.J.E on James’ wrist.

Much to Sirius’ chagrin, on June 25th, the initials R.A.B became visible on Remus’ wrist, as did the initials R.J.L on Regulus’.

And so it went for the rest of his friends and classmates.

Except for poor Pete, whose wrist adorned the initials of someone who - after much research and triple-checking by all of their friends - clearly didn’t go to Hogwarts.

Sometimes, however, soulmate bonds took place between more than two people, and though it was possible for it to happen among all blood statuses, the odds were higher amongst Pureblood’s.

So when Sirius woke up this morning to a weird burning/itching feeling on his wrist, only to see not one, but two sets of initials, he was feeling pretty chuffed.

That dissolved very quickly, however.

“No…. nononononononono.” He muttered in agony as he saw two people approaching him; one looking almost as horrified as he did and one looking awfully sinister.

“Well, well, well.” Barty Crouch Junior drawled as he made his way to the Gryffindor table, dragging you over with him - seemingly without your consent – by your arm. “I thought it must have been a mistake when I woke up to find out I had a Son Of a Bitch as a soulmate, but alas; here you are.”

“This can’t be.” Sirius whispered disbelievingly, causing Barty to cackle maniacally.

“Oh, but it is.”

Any words that Sirius had died on his lips at the wheezing of his younger brother.

You, Barty, and Sirius all turned to see Regulus hanging from Remus’ shoulder as he clutched his stomach.

“I…I – oh Salazar, I think I finally believe in gods! All of them! Oh…” He stuttered in between fits of laughter.

Sirius looked between him and his supposed best mate, but Remus only looked at Regulus as if Regulus was his most beautiful when he was laughing at the expense of his brother.

Bastards; the both of them.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” James offered, his face clearly trying to smile though it took on a pained expression in comissery.

“Thank you…” You accepted timidly, eyes darting between the group of people you suddenly found yourself emmersed in.

“Now look what you’ve done, Black.” Barty sneered as if Sirius’ last name was a dirty word. “You’ve worried our poor girl.” He cooed as he pulled you tight into your side, causing you to squeak in surprise.

“I hardly think I’m the one worrying her.” Sirius sneered back.

Barty’s face turned stony. “Just what are you insinuating?”

“Uhm, that you’re certifiably insane?” Sirius responded simply. 

“Oh, come now; Junior’s not that bad.” Remus tried to reason; his boyfriend still hanging limply off his shoulder as he tried (and failed) to repress his laughter. 

“Not that bad?” Sirius screeched incredulously. “Did you not see what he did to Crawley?”

Peter snorted at that. “Mate, you literally did the same thing to Snape.”

“That was you?” Barty asked in surprise, looking Sirius up and down skeptically.

“Sure was.” James answered on his behalf.

“Huh.” Barty chuckled in thought. “That’s where I- never mind that. I only did that because he groped Y/N’s arse.”

Sirius felt his own face turn stony as he turned his attention to you. “Is this true?”

You seemed to pale at the attention. “Well…yes? But-”

“Ha ha. Black’s just as bad as me.” Barty sing-songed from beside you, looking at Sirius with a look of faux innocence.

Sirius heard a thump, and he looked over to see Remus looking behind the bench where Regulus had apparently fallen in his fit of laughter.

“I – I’ve died, yeah? I’m dead? Fuck, I must’ve done something right in my past life to be rewarded with this. Sirius is – is bonded to Barty Crouch Junior.” He howled with laughter, so uncharacteristic of the young, stoic Black. 

“I am not!” Sirius argued petulantly. “I’m bonded to Y/N, Junior just…happens to be there.”

“If you’re only bonded to Y/N, why are my initials decorating your wrist, hm?” Barty asked salaciously, pulling Sirius’ wrist towards him to see the evidence for himself.

“Oh, sod off.” Sirius barked, shoving him aside and offering you an apologetic glance before storming towards the exit.

“Oi! Where are you going, future-Mr-Barty-Crouch-Junior!?” Barty taunted.

“To jump off the astronomy tower!” Sirius called back.

“Ou! We should go watch.” He said, turning to you before following Sirius out. “You should try to do a flip!”

“Oh, Y/N.” Lily cooed after the boys finally disappeared out of the Great Hall. “I’m so sorry.”

You let out a long-suffering sigh as your eyes stayed focused on the place where you last saw your two new soulmates. “If Regulus did something in a past life to be rewarded with this, I must have done something right horrid.”

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #barty crouch junior #soulmate au #deathstar #poly!deathstar #poly!deathstar x reader #poly!deathstar x you #sirius black x barty crouch jr #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr x sirius black #starkiller #bitchkiller #poly!starkiller #poly!bitchkiller #I don't like those ship names though #also #the sb x bcj tags both already existed #hahahahaha #ellecdc fics

[leisures-writes]

in which you’re the only one for peter and miguel. ( alt title — love. )

who? — yan! peter b. parker x fem! reader x yan! miguel o’hara.

general warnings! — dc written by a 17 year old! dni if uncomfortable with any themes written or with a minor writing! yandere / obsessive behavior towards the reader ( i do not condone yandere / obessive behavior at all. ) and non canon to the across the spider verse movie!

nsfw warnings? — oral ( f. receiving ), pet names, degrading / condescending praise, praise, finger sucking (m. receiving ), implied overstimulation, implied breeding kink, poly relationship, eager switch / sub & slightly mean / condescending dom dynamic ( peter b. parker & miguel o’hara ).

note! — by clicking read more, you’re agreeing to read dc or nsfw. part two’s coming in maybe a month! my atsv / general tag list is open along with my requests! or enjoy my peter b parker fic! please like, comment and reblog. <3

heavy puffs escape your mouth as you writhe in his grasp.

“f - fuck, peter! pete, stop! i - i can’t!”

his mouth was persistent, licking your clit and dipping into your entrance, desperate for your slick — his lifeline. your protests didn’t register in peter’s mind until miguel pauses, yanking peter away from your aching cunt.

“slow down.”

the words were snarled, barely understandable from being pushed from gritted teeth —fangs, which shone in the light. peter gripped your thighs, nuzzling the inner thigh area as an apology, placing kisses and soft bites, marking the area.

“oh, sweetheart. you look so pretty for us, right, peter?”

“mhm.”

peter hums against you. the sensation of soft lips on you made you even more wet, your thighs trying to shut with no avail. the motion drew both’s attention. miguel smiles down at you, the expression more of a sneer as his fingers swipe at your arousal. keeping eye contact with you, the older spider-man offered the fingers to peter, who sucked on them greedily, the slurping noise lewd and loud.

the action made your head spin, mouth agape as you see his pink tongue dart around the pointer, seemingly repeating the same actions that happened to you mere minutes ago.

“good girl.”

the praise bestowed onto you from miguel was always sparse but it didn’t matter to your pleasure addled mind. in fact, it was one of the many things that miguel seemed to know — how to push your buttons at the right time.

peter hums contently, releasing miguel’s fingers with a pop.

“tastes good.. but i want more.” peter’s whiny declaration drew yelp from your throat, trying to squirm away from the threat of another orgasm.

“no no no more please.” you chant desperately, begging to miguel with tears in your eyes, voice breaking. smiling sympathetically at you, miguel strokes your head, eyes heavy lidded. you knew better than to believe his stupidly honey words and soft touches with those eyes — the same damn eyes he gave you as you protested being anywhere near his friends ( where they friends or merely coworkers? ) but the gesture was so nice, so soothing and reminded you of before.

and so, you lean into the touch, a whimper escaping you as peter kisses a calf that was slung over his shoulder.

“but, darling, peter hasn’t had his fill. you wouldn’t want to make him sad, would you?” there was a hum from said male before miguel continued on. “and i enjoy seeing you like this — laid out before me, whiny, needy. you’re such a good little whore for us, you know?”

despair fills your eyes, fills your tears that he wipes away with a grin.

“don’t worry, my love. we’ll take good care of you. you’re going to be carrying our children one day, after all.”

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #yandere atsv x reader #yandere atsv #yandere peter b parker #yandere peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x reader #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x reader x peter b parker #miguel o’hara x reader smut #peter b parker x reader smut #—rey writes! #—rey’s miguel fic #—rey’s peter b fic #—rey’s atsv!

[ma1dita]

no hard feelings

this was a request! find it here

words: 5k (CHRIST)

summary: How can you be in love with someone you barely know? Feelings are hard. James potter x fem!reader

warnings: none! Angsty, tumultuous feelings, insecure!reader, teenage awkwardness, consensual veritaserum dosing, tiptoeing around feelings, headboy!james

a/n: why is james always so easy to write for… hope yall like this one!! I miss having a crush lol

(posted 12/14/23)

—-

“You’re staring again…” Dorcas drones next to you one day in Potions class. Your ears are barely listening to Professor Slughorn drone on about the magical properties and proper use of Veritaserum but your eyes are most definitely focused on James Potter, as they always are. It’s kind of hard to not notice him when his energy breaks through every room he walks into.

“Can’t help it. He’s doing that thing again…” You mutter, leaning against your arm as Dorcas flips through the pages of the textbook. Air escapes you in a puff of exasperation and your quill thumps against the desk in a tiny rhythm. The truth serum you both have been brewing for the past month was steadily bubbling in your shared cauldron, colorless and almost complete, if it weren’t for your usual distraction in the form of Hogwarts’ most eligible bachelor.

“Him being a nuisance?” She smiles at you crookedly, looking at the soft gaze in your eyes.

“Him existing. How dreadful for me.” You say simply before turning back to the task at hand.

There’s something about James Potter that captivates the female gaze. All of Hogwarts knew, hell, he did too. Whatever it was, it’s starting to get annoying. Your eyes flicker back to him, hair swishing as your head shakes in contemplation. Dorcas grins at your predicament, this not being a new topic between the both of you.

James glances at you from his desk at the back of the room, fingers brushing the metal frame of his glasses as he catches you looking at him again, and he smiles boyishly when he sees your eyes dart elsewhere. Compared to other girls’ ostentatious efforts to grab his attention, you’d always been more reserved and standing a distance away. And despite your mutual friends, you both had never really had a proper conversation. Not alone at least. So yes, you may have an insanely big crush on the most popular guy at Hogwarts, but it didn’t mean he’d have to hear it from you. That would involve…having to actually find time to talk to him, which proved to be difficult with every girl that spent their free time batting their eyelashes at him, sending him declarations of feelings in the post, or falling over in front of him to ask him on dates. Slightly pathetic, but you admired their bravery. Silence was your own death sentence, and perhaps it was more suave in your mind. The cool girl who was anything but. Godric, why are feelings so annoying…

Your heart rate stays elevated through the rest of class, and as you pack your things, you rush to put your stuff in your knapsack, digging through the leather to find a hair ribbon. The distraction impairs your vision and your foot slips on a leather strap. Your body runs right into a solid wall of muscle, sending you into James’s seated frame, and both of you sprawling across the classroom floor.

“Wotcher, love,” Sirius laughs as he sees the blush rise to your cheeks. James daintily grasps your waist as you’ve landed bent over onto his lap, feet tangled in the fallen chair.

“I am so sorry…” You blubber, hair in your face as you scramble to lift off of him. Both you and James kneel on the floor picking both your belongings up, and you feel like the Earth could swallow you whole right now with everyone staring at you.

“Looking completely stupid is what. Pete, you have to stop putting your bag in the aisle! I could’ve killed Potter!”

Peter blushes as he nudges his bag with his foot, and James hands you back your things, both of your hands touching as you figure out who belongs to what. Your hand fumbles over a clear vial of Veritaserum he definitely wasn't supposed to take home, and your eyes meet James’ with a tilt of the head. His grin screams mischief, biting his lip, and taking the glass from between your fingers with a wink. I won’t tell if you won’t, his gaze says.

“Not a problem, darling. Anyone would be honored to be trampled by a pretty lady,” he says finally, dusting off his pants and offering you a hand to stand up. You scoff, taking it and not meeting his eyes in embarrassment. Remus lifts the chair that toppled over, handing you the hair ribbon you spent so long finding.

“Thanks, Rem. See you all later at the party?” Bobbing heads follow you out of the classroom where you are quickly bombarded by a gaggle of girls calling you lucky for bumping into James.

“You’re so smart for falling on him like that…” “He seems so strong picking you up so easily…” “Did he smell nice today? He always smells nice…”

All of the chattering voices make you laugh at these mere acquaintances who don’t care as much for you as they do for the boy standing in the doorway with his friends.

“Off to class now, ladies.” James reminds them, his Head Boy badge gleaming against the sunlight in the corridor. They scatter, leaving hushed compliments and giggles in his direction. But you don’t look at him at all, tying your hair back almost methodically. His eyes fall upon the slope of your neck, and he’s got that look in his eye…

“What, James?” Remus asks inquisitively, all four boys looking at you as you walk off down the hall.

“How come she barely talks to me?” he ponders, shoving his jumper over his elbows, and Sirius slings an arm over his best friend as he laughs.

“All the attention you get, and you’re still greedy, huh?”

“Not that, she talks to all of you so easily, and then she goes and calls me Potter like we aren’t friends…” he says, swiveling to look at his boys, walking backward to see their reactions. Well, he didn’t expect them to laugh that hard.

“Are you though? She’s our friend, we hang out with her… Have you ever had a real conversation between the two of you?” Pete points out, scratching the back of his neck.

“Suppose not…”

“Suppose you should… She’s really nice. Pretty funny too.” Remus pipes up.

James thinks back, and regrettably, he can’t remember much about you, always a wallflower in his periphery. He hasn’t made much of an effort to get to know you since you started being around the gang. Maybe that should change.

“She’s stunning, if I’m honest, boys. Way less forward than the other birds…”

“I can see an idea forming in your head James Potter, don’t even start…” Remus says, book in hand ready to hit him across the chest. Sirius and Peter laugh, starting to run around the two, and everything stops once the sandy-haired boy blurts, “Word out is that she majorly fancies you, Prongs…Maybe you should go for it!”

James stops in his tracks, bumping into a marble column as they round the corner. How can you like him if you don’t know him…and he doesn’t know anything about you?

“Highly unlikely, Worms. She doesn’t even call me by my first name…” The new predicament of this admission rises to the forefront of James' mind, and it’s all he can think about for the rest of the day, through the rest of class, and Quidditch practice, up until he gets ready for the party at Gryffindor Tower.

—

You’re getting ready with the girls, hands brushing over microscopic lint on your silk top, and you’re quite unsure of why there’s a nerve-wracking feeling overtaking your body.

“You look lovely, babe,” Alice says as she admires you from Marlene’s bed, legs hanging off the side.

“I need a drink,” you laugh, looking at the girls through the mirror, and Mary tosses you a shooter of firewhiskey to ease the nerves. The door swings open and Lily walks in, looking almost sternly at the lot of you.

“How are you all still up here? Everyone looks beautiful, now let’s all get drunk! Godric knows we need it after this week we’ve had…”

The girls walk down the stairs to the common room, you following slowly as your eyes meet the crowd of students all partaking in the grand celebration of nothing. Merlin, you love this school. Cracking the bottle open, you toss your head back as you take the shot, and then Sirius is swinging you around onto the dancefloor as you try not to gag. The party is in full swing—students dancing on the tables, drinks flowing, and music playing as loud as possible that you wonder how McGonagall won’t shut this down by midnight.

James tries to find a moment to talk to you all night, but he can’t seem to get an edge in. Were you always this popular? You were always dancing with someone else, or talking to a friend, and it’s also distracting to have girls trying to chat with him about who-knows-what, and he almost gets frustrated at the fact he’s unable to catch your eye.

“James, do you think I look pretty in this dress?” a hand grazes his bicep, and he remembers he’s in the middle of a conversation with… Flora? Frannie?

“Mhmm,” he mutters noncommittally, eyes searching the crowd for where he last saw you, watching you walk out towards the balcony.

“Sorry Fizz, gotta go find someone!” He skirts around the girl who yells, “It’s Faith!” almost indignantly, and James shakes his head as he weaves through the sea of drunk people to reach you before you get away again.

You stand on the balcony, alone. The party hums on behind you, through the open doors, but all of it feels miles away. You take a deep, steadying breath into your chest as you stare out into the field. The quiet serenity of the night and the alcohol is giving you a head rush, making you dizzy and lightheaded, but you feel your pulse beating like a drum as your hands are steady on the railing.

Sudden footsteps break the silence, and you turn to find that James is standing right behind you. He places his hands near yours as he steps closer, staring out into the night as well.

"Leaving so soon?" he asks as he slides up beside you.

"Just needed some air," you reply, looking towards the dancing masses spilling out onto the stairs and tables behind the glass.

"What’s a Gryffindor gathering without its resident life of the party?" he teases, leaning on the railing and smiling cheekily at you.

“Says you…” Your eyebrow quirks at his boldness. You don’t think you two have ever even been at a table alone, much less out here on the balcony by yourselves.

James is leaning close to you, still gazing up at the night sky. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck, and you suddenly have a strange urge to turn to him, to look him in the eye and tell him how badly you wish to have a proper conversation with him. For him to know you like you know him.

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, a sly grin on his face. James raises an eyebrow, almost as if he's reading your mind.

"Can you keep a secret?" His voice is like cinnamon, sweet with an edge.

“If it’s about the Veritaserum, I didn’t see anything….” you joke, throwing your head back.

His eyes flash with amusement as he smiles at you, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

"Maybe you should look up at me for a minute." You turn to look at him, and your heart flutters at his words.

"I want to ask you something," he whispers, his face close to yours. You're not sure why he's whispering - there’s no one else out here, but you don't mind.

"What?" you ask. James grins at you, and you can't help but grin back. He pauses, biting his lip to hold in his laugh, and then he leans in closer, his face so close you can count his lashes, curly hair falling softly against your temple.

"Are we friends?" he asks, and the hilarity of it makes you scoff, but the smile on your face lets him know it’s not unkind.

"Maybe, but not really. You've always been out of reach for me, Potter."

"Do you wish we were?" He seems genuine in this moment, hazel eyes staring into yours as if he's trying to see into your soul. He's always been popular, and he knows girls fawn over him, but he's never spoken to you this way before. Perhaps his bravery only goes so far when he’s with you.

"I would love for us to be friends," you say quietly, unsure of his intentions. "I'm so awkward around you, I just... have a hard time saying what I want to say. It always feels like I'm going to say something stupid." You blush as you admit this, but you force yourself to meet his eyes.

James gives you a light, charming laugh, and you're left speechless as your words fade away. His eyes are so intense, and the way his jaw sits firm just makes you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. You stay still for a moment, your heart racing, waiting for him to say something, do something you know you don’t have the guts for.

"What if we tried..." he pauses as if he's thinking it through himself.

"Just being completely honest with each other? For the rest of the night?" he asks, his fingers pulling a familiar stolen vial out of his pocket.

"For the rest of the night?" you ask, your voice slightly shaky. "I... I don't know if I can..."

He tips a few drops of Veritaserum into both of your drinks.

"Bottoms up." He downs his cup in one go.

Your eyes meet his in shock, your lips slightly parted as you take in the realization that you'll finally get the truth out of him. But in the adrenaline that courses through your veins, you don't stop to think that this will affect you too. He can see how nervous you are, and he winks at you, and his voice drops to a whisper.

"Trust me," he urges, and it's impossible to deny his request with a smile like that.

“You’re crazy,” you mumble, but you take a heavy sip of the Veritaserium-laced drink anyway, and every single word that's on your mind attempts to escape, the air around the two of you feeling charged with blind confidence.

"We're playing a dangerous game here, Potter. Too bad I've had enough to drink to care."

You laugh at that, and he chuckles along with you. The alcohol seems to make the Veritaserum work even faster, and it's not as if it tastes bad. In fact, it's rather delicious. Addicting.

"You're right," he replies, laughing so much that he has to hold his sides. The mirthful grin that curls into your lips is only increased as you take in the scene before you. "So. What do you want to know?" he asks. He puts his hand on your waist, fingers grazing your belt loop and you feel your blood rush to your face.

“Do you still like Lily? And if not, do the girls chasing you around school get annoying?”

"Honestly, I'm not sure," he answers you with such seriousness that it makes you grin toothily. This is dangerous.

"I used to like her... a lot." The admission makes you lean in until you can hear his breathing.

"I've never felt anything like that towards anyone else, but I could. I might already." he continues, his voice so low, almost sultry, that your pupils dilate. Watch yourself. You're so taken with the way he looks at you, so focused, that you wonder if it’s really him or the alcohol.

“Ask me something, Potter. It’s only fair.”

James looks down at you with a mischievous smile. "Let's start with the big one, then... what are your intentions with me? Little mouse told me you have a crush."

He says it almost in a whisper as if it's a dangerous question, and you can feel his breath on your lips as he waits for your response. It is dangerous. The way he words it makes you laugh, but instantly, your deepest thoughts come tumbling out of your mouth. This was definitely a terrible idea….

“I genuinely think I’m in love with you,” you admit to him, unable to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

“But you barely know me, so you probably think I’m crazy,” you blurt out, hand slapping over your mouth.

"And I've wanted to be near you since the first moment I ever saw you. Something about you is... so..." You trail off, suddenly shy with your words, but you can feel his eyes on you as he waits for the rest of your answer.

"It's silly," you say, not wanting to admit the true reason you want him.

James grins at you and his nose brushes your cheek, the scent of his aftershave making you weak. He could be extra mean right now, coaxing the rest of the truth out of you with a single word, but the embarrassment that wrestles in your being is enough for the next few lifetimes.

"It's okay," he whispers and places a hand gently on your cheek, his fingers brushing against your skin.

"Maybe things will be different now that I know."

He stares at your lips and then suddenly asks, "Do you want to kiss?" His voice is soft as silk, and you can't believe that you've heard right. What the hell just happened?

“Um, no. Sorry.” The door cracks open with Sirius peeking out to see the two of you, but you push past him back into the party. James is left dumbfounded by your rejection, feeling like he got caught in a riptide as he drowns in embarrassment.

His eyes are wide as you hurry out the door, and you don't even turn back to look at James - instead, you're so preoccupied with getting away from him and back to your dorm that you almost run into Dorcas, who offers you a curious look as you dump out the rest of your drink in a potted plant.

“What happened, Prongs? You scare her away?” Sirius says with raised eyebrows as he looks at James standing stupidly at the edge in the dark.

“Actually, she’s in love with me and she just rejected me. And I’m on truth serum for the next few hours, and I can't figure out how I fucked up.”

James has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth when he’s left alone, and usually he’s aware of it. But even with the Veritaserum, he can’t figure out for the life of him why you ran away, no matter how many times the boys rephrase the question to him.

—-

You avoid him like the plague in the days after.

As much as you've wanted to pretend that the experience with James with just a figment of your imagination brought on by the amount of alcohol you drank, you can't help but feel utterly mortified around James. You keep your distance, only leaving your room when you absolutely have to, running out of classes you share like you’re being timed.

As the truth serum left your body that night, you’ve become increasingly sure of how you feel about James - even more so than before. It was the first time you’ve ever said you’re in love, and how can you be in love if you didn’t know it yourself before the fact! You're absolutely terrified of looking crazy like that again, of being vulnerable. Even as you try to keep your distance from him, he's literally everywhere, which only makes things worse for your emotions.

It's late in the evening and you're finally mustering up the courage to leave your room and make your way to the kitchens to grab a midnight snack.

As you turn the corner, you stop in your tracks to see James leaning against the wall, his eyes closed as he seems to be enjoying the peace and quiet. The dim lighting of the passageway casts shadows over his features and makes you wonder if he can see you at all. Your heart races and you feel as if you're back on the balcony all over again.

His eyes pop open, almost as if he was waiting for you and you can feel your stomach drop to your feet as he stares straight back at you,

"Where do you think you're going, pretty girl?" He asks, a small smile on his face.

"And why are you out this late?" He sounds almost suspicious, and you suddenly feel like a criminal just for sneaking around him so much.

"Umm... nowhere," you stammer, wishing you could disappear into the night.

"I…” You take a deep breath. Own it, already! You were already caught!

“Are you asking that as Head Boy, or…”

His smile widens, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he steps closer.

“I could, but I’m asking as a friend.”

“Didn’t know you were patrolling tonight.”

He makes a noise that doesn’t sound like a yes or a no, because honestly, he wasn’t. The crinkle of the map in his pocket would give him away if you only knew about it. You sigh, running a hand over your hair and he’s still standing there, waiting for you to say something next.

“I just came out to grab a snack. I missed dinner, so I wanted to go to the kitchens.”

“Can I come with?” And before you can reply, he’s offering his arm out for you to latch onto. You both walk silently through the halls and tickle the pear, and this somehow feels normal, comfortable, though you’ve never hung out alone like this. The house elves whizz past you, tending to your needs, and they set a tray of pastries out for the both of you to snack on. He just watches you silently as you both tiptoe around the true reason you’re both here. You're in the middle of eating a danish when he suddenly speaks.

"Why did you say no?"

You stop, flaky crumbs hanging from between your lips as you look at him.

"I asked if you wanted to kiss me, and you said no. But you said you love me, so I’ve been thinking about it since that night," James says, and you almost spit out your food. Did he actually want to kiss you?

“We were under Veritaserum…I just... I got embarrassed. I've never told anyone I've loved them before." you mumble, eyes falling to the table.

"And you barely know me. Why would you want to kiss me?" you add, dusting crumbs off your shirt. He leans in closer to you on the bench as if he’s whispering a secret.

"You barely know me, why would you say you love me?" James counters, as if he’s making a point. In truth, you know him well enough from hanging around his friends. You just never mustered the confidence to actually be his friend. Intimidating as he is, point A being him leaning so close to you that you think he might smell your fear.

"But I do know you, you just don't notice me." you mumble.

You and James both sit in silence for a moment, still in shock by the words that you've both said. The sound of the creaking wooden floorboards catches your attention as someone enters the kitchen. The two of you freeze, looking up to see Remus entering.

"What are you two doing here so late?" he asks, confused.

"I'm not sure," you stammer, feeling your face flush as you realize that you're both alone together, almost cuddling on the kitchen bench. You grab another pastry off the tray and stand up to walk out.

"Goodnight!" you blurt, walking away quickly, but James isn't letting you off that easy.

"Scuse us Moons, I'm not done with her yet," he says, following your footsteps quickly out into the hall.

You hurry away from Remus and out of the kitchen. All of your fears and insecurities seem to fill you once again as you try to process everything that's just happened. You're halfway up the stairs when James catches up to you.

"Wait," he says, putting his hand gently on your arm. You turn around, your arms wrapped tightly over your chest as you face him.

"I'm not trying to scare you, I just wanted to know," he continues, the dim light from the candles above creating deep shadows under his eyes.

“I just... Why do you care? There's so many girls that go after you, so why are you so interested in me? I already embarrassed myself in front of you like the rest of them. What makes this different?”

"Because you're different," he replies instantly.

"You're honest. Not in the way they are which makes me wonder if they even like me or just want to be associated with me. I want what you have with our friends. I want to know you," he continues quietly.

"Those girls are so focused on the idea of me and what I have to offer, but something tells me you’re different than that. And I want to know you, love. I want to know what makes you tick. You're not just some pretty girl to me," he says softly.

“You already make me tick. Standing here makes me feel like I'm going to burst into flames.” You breathe shakily, throwing caution to the wind as you continue, "You already know you're attractive, and I don't lo----like you just because of that. You're really kind when you help other students, and you don't usually prod at me like this when I can't articulate my feelings, but you're considerate. You asked me if I wanted to kiss you. You care if people are happy, and you make people feel seen, even if they're bothering you. James, even if you're a leader it's because you're a great team player. Even if you don't really know me, it makes my day when you smile at me in class. You...make me feel important."

James just stares at you with wide eyes as you spew words like a waterfall. He suddenly bites his tongue as if he's trying to stop himself, a heavy blush covering his cheeks even in the darkness of the candlelight.

You suddenly take in everything that the two of you are saying - and you realize that he's actually listening. He's really listening. There's such a raw honesty to it, and your heart races so fast inside your chest as you tack it onto the mental list of why you love him.

"So I guess that's why. Even if I didn't know it myself. Sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what? For sharing your heart with me?" he asks, his voice growing soft and a boyish smile crosses his face. He steps up onto the landing so both of you are eye level.

"If I asked to kiss you, would you say no again?" he whispers.

“As a friend?” you joke, but you don’t move away when his nose brushes yours.

His voice sends shivers through your spine, and you look up at his hazel eyes as he gazes down at you. He pulls you gently towards him, your back meeting the stone wall as he lowers his lips to yours. You close your eyes for just a moment, but the moment between the two of you lasts an eternity. There’s something electric about your lips meeting his, and the two of you melt together in the darkened alcove. It’s funny how it works, your confidence making you feel like you’re floating as you loop your arms around his neck, and the usually assertive Marauder can’t figure out where to place his hands as they hover over your waist.

As soon as it ends, James breaks away from you as if he's suddenly embarrassed that he’s just kissed you right in the stairwell. Now he’s the bashful one. The taste of cinnamon and mint still lingers even as he steps away, hand scratching the nape of his neck.

"I didn't know what else to say. Can’t seem to be cool around you," he says as he fixes your hair, a quirk in his kiss-swollen lip as he stares at you, eyes twinkling.

"I like you a lot," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I want to be with you. I want you to call me by my first name."

"You'll have to get to know me first. No hard feelings though, Potter," you say cheekily, stepping away and walking back to your room.

All that���s left of you is the forgotten pastry on the ground. James’ chest rumbles with a laugh as he scoops it up, almost skipping away.

—

He doesn’t leave you alone after that. And you make him work for it. It’s new for him, to be someone’s first and earnest choice. He thinks about you often, even when you’re right next to him, and he wants to do this right. James learns to love like you do, quietly, honestly.

You’re all hanging around the Black Lake with your friends as he leans against a tree lazily, both your fingers intertwined in the grass. James watches you laugh at Sirius and Mary splashing each other in the water, and he can see how easy it is to love someone by just watching them.

"You know," he remarks after watching silently for a moment, "you radiate when you smile."

Your face goes flush and you look down at the ground, your fingers still intertwined with his. You can feel his gaze on you, but you're too nervous to look back up at him.

"I like it when you laugh loudly, and the crease in your forehead that shows you’re thinking too hard," he adds softly, and you look up at him with wide eyes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze and a small smile plays across his lips.

“I’m finding all these reasons why I’m falling for you. Is it supposed to be this easy?” He asks, leaning his head on yours.

“Yes James,” you say without hesitating, no Veritaserum needed.

The next time either of you says I love you, it leaves his lips first, and you know it’s true because he’s more than a friend now too.

—

“To feel anything deranges you. To be seen feeling anything strips you naked.” -Anne Carson

love me some tunes! i listened to "you're here, that's the thing" by beabadoobee while writing!

taglist: @jsjcue

#made by ma1dita ♥︎ #james potter x reader angst #james potter x reader #marauders x reader

[literaila]

can you please write a Peter Parker x reader one shot where the reader gets injured and when Peter comes to visit her in the hospital her crush is exposed because her heart monitor keeps going insane 🙏🙏 she’ll get really embarrassed and he may tease her a bit but ultimately her feelings end up being reciprocated. There could be some angst when she gets hurt but I am the number one fan of teeth-rotting fluff that will make me giggle and kick my feet 😍🫶 could be a friends to lovers situation or an established relationship if you’d like!!! I love ur writing <3

he’s trying to kill me

tasm!peter x fem!reader

a/n: it’s only proper for this to be a hurt reader comfort peter fic (and i mean that literally)

“what is wrong with you?”

you’re momentarily shocked when an accompanying voice bursts through the room. the words are loud and imposing, and completely distracting you away from the already rough rasp and egg smelling breath of the doctor trying to explain how reckless you were being.

but the new voice is angrier than the first; harder and louder.

there’s still uncertain goosebumps running up your skin when he walks through the doors with his chest heaving and eyes dark, pushing past the doctor like he doesn’t even realize that the woman is there, or just doesn’t care.

but his hands are gentle as they reach you, and his face is anything but shocking.

the doctor is glancing around his shoulder, a worried look in her eyes.

quickly, your muscles relax. you’re used to this imposition. your nerves settle, and you allow peter the chance to freak out for the both of you.

his hands run over your cheeks, his eyes darting over every possible inch of skin they can find. his frown is unburdened and furious. when he is satisfied with his scan of you—all limbs accounted for—peter’s shoulders lose a bit of their tension.

although you allow peter to pull you closer to him, his eyes are threatening, and not even your small greeting of a smile gets his face to settle.

he hugs you—crushing your head against his chest—and then quickly let’s you go, like he’s just realized that you’re made of lava.

but not too far, of course. peter is well within a foot distance.

“what is wrong with you?” he repeats, but a hiss this time. a punishment awaiting its victim. a demand of you. “are you crazy?”

your brows furrow back at him. “i’m fine, peter, now shush. let me listen to the doctor.” your voice is firm, but your chastising is ruined by the tip of a smile at your lips.

your hands wrap around peters arm, moving him away from blocking your view of the doctor.

you nod for her to continue.

“your x-rays came back fine, and there’s nothing unusual about your blood work. the only concern i have is about your head—“

“her head?” peter repeats, voice a bit high. you give him a look to shut up. pinching the skin of his arm, but he doesn’t flinch. just stares at you like you might disappear. or you gained four additional eyes.

she clears her throat. “it looks to be a minor concussion, but any more blunt force trauma might worsen your condition. so it’s important that you take extra precautions in the next couple of weeks, and avoid doing anything that might affect your head. no strenuous exercise, or harsh movement.”

“so no alleyway fist fights?”

she doesn’t laugh, and neither does peter. the tension within the room remains, swirling over you like a cumulonimbus cloud.

but he does interrupt once again. “could it get worse on its own?” he asks, eyes darting between you and her. “do i need to be watching for anything? checking her pupils every once in a while, or making sure she’s not excessively napping for the next couple of days—“

“it shouldn’t be necessary.” she looks back to you, and you can see the sarcasm in her eyes. “if you develop any unusual symptoms, schedule an appointment with your physician. but otherwise, you’re free to leave whenever they bring in your paperwork.”

you feel peter sigh next to you, and you shake your head. “thanks, doc.”

“i’ll have a nurse bring in a list of information about any reoccurring symptoms, and the healing process for your brain over the next month.”

you nod.

the doctor clears her throat once again, giving you a tight lipped smile and nodding at peter, and then she runs out of the room as fast as humanly possible.

you watch her go but peter is staring at you. eventually, when you’ve been dwelling on the pattern of the tile for a moment too long, you look back.

and what you see is expected; harsh lines and worried dimples, stormy eyes and a gash of a frown ruining his otherwise perfect face.

you sigh.

peter swallows. “are you going to explain yourself?”

you lean forward, small teasing smile on your lips as you rest your chin on a hand. “explain what? my headache?”

“c’mon, i’m serious,” his frown doesn’t budge, but he nudges your leg so he can sit down next to you. “what were you thinking?”

he sighs again, shoulders falling, and leans his head next to yours. when he’s this close, you can see the lines wearing under his eyes. you can smell smoke coming off of his skin.

“i was thinking that my doctor needs to improve her bedside manner, and that my boyfriend needs to learn how to wait his turn to speak.”

“i’m not kidding. you could’ve hurt yourself—you’ve already got a concussion.”

“a minor concussion.”

“does it matter?” peter mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“i’m fine, baby, all bandaged up and everything.”

peter pushes himself up, meeting your eyes with an unfound passion. “this time,” he urges, getting closer, he glances at the door. “but what about next time when you decide to jump off a building just to prove you can fly?”

“i’m not icarus,” you shake your head. “you needed help, peter. i’m not going to let someone get hurt just so i don’t.”

“that’s my job.”

“that’s every good samaritans job,” you roll your eyes, hand brushing through his hair, feeling the dirt build up under your fingertips. “just because you have an advantage over everyone else doesn’t mean that you’re the only one who gets to be a hero.”

“dying isn’t heroic.”

you scoff. “that’s actually the most heroic thing a person can do, but i’m going to let you have this one so you don’t go and get any ideas.”

he bites his lip, swallowing. “you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“well so could you, but you don’t see me bursting into your room and interrupting—“

“that’s not the same thing.”

“how, peter?” you ask, shaking your head and giving him a small smile. “how is this any different?”

“because i can handle it!”

he moves away from you, and throws his head back, sighing out of frustration and looking at you with gentler, more pained eyes. “i can handle it,” he repeats.

“are you saying that if you were standing where i was you wouldn’t have pushed that woman out of the way?”

“i—“

“you cant expect me to watch you save everyone and not help when i can.”

peters eyes catch yours, and you watch him struggle to speak. but eventually he whispers, “you got hurt.”

“i’m okay, though. really.”

“i don’t…” peter shakes his head. “i don’t want, i can’t—ugh.”

you reach for his hand, running a finger over bruised knuckles. “i appreciate your concern,” you tell him, softly. “i know you’re just worried, but you have to let me make my own decisions. you cant rescue everyone all the time.”

“you would be enough.”

you snort. “peter, you have the worlds biggest savior complex. if you let a single person get hurt—even if they live in antarctica—you brood for days. i don’t expect you to watch other people suffer, but i need you to respect the same for me.”

your words are almost biting.

there’s a moment where peter looks at you, and then glances towards the wall. “are you mad?”

you frown. “no, of course not. annoyed or frustrated, maybe. but not mad.”

he gestures beside you with his head. “your hearts beating really fast.”

you look over to the screen next to your head, watching the lines rise and fall rapidly. and then down to your finger, with the cursed device making it apparent to everyone in the room.

“that’s just my resting heart rate,” you say, curled lip and waved hand.”

peter licks his lip. “oh, really?”

“yes, peter. you put on the finger thingy and let’s see how fast your hearts going.”

“i’m not the patient here. are you feeling alright? light headed? dizzy?”

“i’m feeling interrogated.”

peter moves closer to you, eyes darting towards the screen by your head, then to your eyes. he moves away, and his eyes squint. “hmm.”

you look with him, furrowed brows. “what?“

he leans forward again. “there seems to be a common factor.”

“i already told you—“

“every time i move closer to you your heart rate spikes.”

you roll your eyes. “that’s because i’m mad at you.”

“i thought you said you weren’t mad?”

“things have changed.”

peter laughs and leans down to kiss your hairline. when he moves back his eyes aren’t on you. a small smirk falls on his lips, and he moves to kiss your cheek. and then the other.

you don’t need to watch your heart rate to feel the heat rising in your chest.

he leaves a peck on your nose, and moves to kiss the side of your jaw. his kisses are gentle and ticklish, and when his nose runs along your cheekbone, you have to refrain from shivering.

he’s incredibly annoying.

peter moves back as little as possible so he can watch the screen. “maybe i should leave the room.”

“maybe you should get over yourself.”

peter moves forward again, kissing your cupids bow. and then his lips are at your ear and his fingertips are grazing your jaw.

“you first,” he whispers.

you groan and tilt your head, trying to shake him off of you. “this isn’t fair. get your own monitor.”

“let’s just focus on you right now.”

your hand locks around his neck, the other moving to his hair. peters eyes are almost shocked at the feeling, but his momentary surprise gives you the perfect opportunity to pull him closer.

to actually kiss him and avoid dying of any more teasing.

peters smile is evident against your lips, but he doesn’t move away, and his breath meets your own in gentle strokes.

his hand is smooth as he tilts your chin up.

you can feel your own heartbeat, but peter takes his other hand so he can rest two fingers against your neck, feeling for your pulse.

you want to die at the feeling.

“interesting,” he says, his lips brushing yours.

you roll your eyes while they’re still closed, and hope that he can feel it. “shut up.”

peter laughs again, and guides you in short but tense kisses, like he’s trying to make sure that you’re still breathing.

he doesn’t budge when you try to force him closer.

and before you can get him to kiss you properly again, there’s a clearing of a throat, and a different kind of spike in your heartbeat.

a nurse stands behind peter, looking a bit uncomfortable.

peter moves away, swallowing, and greeting the nurse with a shake of his hand. she’s holding a clipboard and a juice box, giving the two of you a brief smile. “sorry to interrupt,” she says.

peter laughs and looks back at you with wide eyes.

you smile, then point at peter. “he’s trying to kill me.”

*

#ask #tasm peter x reader #andrew!spiderman #the amazing spider-man #peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #spider-man #the amazing spider man #spider man fic #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter fluff #tasm spiderman #tasm 2 #tasm #marvel fanfic #marvel

[cod-dump]

Has teen Gaz or Price ever walked in on Teen Simon and Teen Soap making out or just kissing when they finally get together?

Holding Your Hand (teen!Ghost au)

———

Three months. It had been three months since Johnny confessed to Simon and Simon stuttered out returning affections. The mall parking lot wasn’t the ideal place for such a thing, but Johnny couldn’t hold it back anymore.

They were together, but no one has exactly been able to actually notice. They were so nervous, barely able to hold hands. Sitting close enough that their shoulders touched was as much as either could manage. It was cute but also sad. Kyle expected more from them, at least more eagerness to hold hands.

Alejandro was there when they confessed. He was in his car, waiting for Simon to get in when it happened. His father’s stolen cigarette fell from his lips in shock before he called Rudy. Simon had to deal with Alejandro for those three months. His near insufferable best friend who wanted to know every detail that has happened between him and Johnny.

“You two are driving me crazy! You think Val and I waited that long to-“

“I’m not a whore like you!”

Alejandro cackled before he pressed his body against Simon’s side, “Si! C’mon, man! You’re Los Vaqueros! Not a little, shy church boy!”

Simon refused to look at him, muttering, “I think I would burst into flames if I stepped foot into a church…”

“Exactly! Show your new man how much you’ve been wanting him! Get it on!”

Simon snorts as Alejandro shimmies a weird dance. One of the Los Vaqueros, Peter, ran up and said something about Rudy before running back off. Alejandro smacks Simon’s shoulder before running after him.

“Rudy’s here!”

Simon watches Alejandro dart out of the garage, mind immediately going back to Johnny as soon as his friend disappeared from sight. He hung out with his friends before heading back home. If it got too dark Nik would probably come grab him and take him home and his friends had just finally stopped teasing him about last time it happened.

When he made it back home, he chose to go through the kitchen side door rather than the front. Kyle liked hanging in the living room around this time and Simon wasn’t prepared with the possibility of coming in and seeing Johnny. Seeing him without a warning, a heads up, might be a bit much. He felt like since the confession he’s been drowning, confused. He hasn’t had a romantic relationship before. Hell, his only genuine friend was Alejandro. The Los Vaqueros were his friends, they were inclined to be friendly with him.

Nik was in the kitchen, drinking coffee like the madman he was, focused on his phone. He didn’t even look when the door opened, just took a calm sip of his coffee before he sighed.

“Kyle’s friend is here.”

Simon tensed and Nik just looked at him with an all-knowing look. Wordlessly, he points at the chair next to him, and Simon sat without a comment. He couldn’t help but glance towards the hall, knowing Johnny was in the house, probably expecting to see him at some point.

“You don’t look like the kid that had his affections returned by the boy of his dreams.”

Simon jerks and turns to Nik, “What does that mean!?”

“It means you look lost. Kind of scared.”

Simon blinks, eyes drifting away from Nik as he thought about what he said, “Scared?”

“I know English well enough to know that is the correct word, no?”

“Debatable.”

Nik glares with an amused smirk as Simon snickers. He takes another swig of his coffee before he puts the mug aside and leans over the table. Simon tries to avoid looking at him, sensing a conversation waiting that he didn’t want to have.

“Si.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You’re not? This is new territory for you. You sure you’re not a little bit scared?”

“I feel like this is something Dad should be talking to me about.”

Nik grins, “Oh, your father and his emotions are as in sync as a cat and dog. Sometimes they understand each other but they mostly coexist.”

Simon groans and lays his head on the cool table. He hated it when Nik was right, which was surprisingly often. The man was smart, crazy but smart. He was more capable of talking about this than his father. Simon sits up, taking a breath before he looks at Nik.

“I feel like I’m not doing things right.”

“Oh? Talk about it, tell me what’s going on in your head.”

“Everyone is just… they seem to know what to do. You get with your crush, you take them on dates, hold their hand, kiss them— I’m not doing any of that! I feel like things are the same, like he didn’t confess to me! Like we’re still dancing around each other!”

Nik hums, thinking as Simon breathes for a moment before continuing, “Ale and Peter and June— All the Los Vaqueros keep asking if I’ve kissed him yet. What dates we’ve gone on, if we-… If we’ve done anything… God, I can barely hold his hand and I’m supposed to do all these other things!”

“Kid, you need to breathe and relax. There is nothing wrong with taking your time with him, going your own pace. Everyone has their own speed.”

“What if Johnny’s speed is different than mine?”

“Well, then you’ll have to talk to him and figure that out. No one can read minds.”

Simon blinks before nodding, Nik reaching over and rubbing his shoulder, “Talk to him, be honest. Things will work out.”

“Thanks, Nik.”

“Of course. Now, go on. Tell Kyle to come in here, I need to talk to him about something.

Simon nods and gets up, grabbing his bag and walking into the hallway. He stopped by the stairs to compose himself, feeling nervous. He takes a deep breath in before straightening his back and letting it out. Then he continued on, refusing to falter when he heard Kyle and Johnny talking. He threw his bag by the threshold to the living room, even though his father told him to stop that since he left a hole in the wall, before walking in. Simon stops when he sees Kyle stretched on the floor, rambling as Johnny laid across the couch listening. They both turned and looked at him and Simon almost lost his confidence.

“Hey, Mr. Warrior Cat,” that earned him a glare, “Nik wants to talk.”

Kyle rolls his eyes, “Ugh, fine. If I’m not back in five minutes-“

“We’ll mourn.”

Kyle glares, Johnny laughing. Simon tried focusing on Kyle as long as possible before he eventually turned his attention to Johnny.

Why is he so handsome? God-

“Hey,” Johnny said softly, sitting up on the couch.

Simon couldn’t help but stare, his hair was getting long. The scruff on his face was showing signs of a promising beard in the future. Oh, his smile-

“Hey, just gonna stand there and stare?”

Simon flushes, clearing his throat before he walks over and sits down next to Johnny. His skin lit up when he felt Johnny’s knee brush his. The warmth pierced through his jeans, seeping into his skin in a pleasant manner. Johnny seemed to be a warm person, both metaphorically and literally.

“Kyle said you were hanging out with… what was it again?”

“Los Vaqueros. Cowboys.”

Johnny looks like he wants to laugh but chooses to just grin. God, he was bright like the sun.

“It was Ale’s idea. He loves old westerns and the Wild West and all that.”

“Right! I figured. Cowboys aren’t really your thing.”

Simon flushes. He was so pathetic. Unable to even look at Johnny without getting flustered, unable to hold his hand without feeling like he’s going to catch fire. Simon takes another breath, calming himself before he looks at Johnny, almost losing it when their eyes met.

“I think we need to talk.”

“You think?”

“I- We do! We… I need to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Johnny hums and turns his body to face him, “Right.”

“I-I don’t want to seem like I’m delaying or holding back… Fuck,” Simon turns, now mirroring Johnny, “I can barely hold your hand. I know you were expecting something else.”

Johnny frowns, “What do you mean by that? Expecting something else? I’m expecting you.”

Simon feels his face grow redder and Johnny leans forward, “It’s cute. The-the shy thing. I don’t want to rush you into doing anything you don’t feel ready for!”

Johnny rubs his hands together, face flushing as he avoids looking at Simon, “I don’t have experience in relationships… Unless you count my sister’s because she’s dating a new guy every week! Which I won’t do- I haven’t done! Of course not! I just said I don’t have much experience! Oh you fucking idiot…”

Johnny turns away in a attempt to hide his red face. Simon felt his nervousness melt away as Johnny displays his own. It was comforting knowing he wasn’t the only one nervous about this. Not the only one worried they weren’t doing something right. Johnny continued talking, trying to fix each thing he had just said. Simon puts a hand on Johnny’s face and turns him so he’s looking at him.

He wasn’t sure what came over him but it felt right. It was a peck, nothing steamy. Simon felt Johnny’s warm lips, felt him melt against him and grab his shirt. It felt right. When they pulled apart, both flushed and speechless, Simon finally felt like he was on track, the flutter in his chest only confirming such.

Then he realized there was someone standing in the hall.

Simon slowly turned and saw his father staring at them. He had a mug in his hand and his phone in the other. It looked like he was talking with someone when he came by. Johnny stood up quickly when he saw the man, stammering away.

“Mr. Price! I- uh- was just leaving! Gotta go… go help Gran with dinner! Gotta walk the dog!”

Simon’s father blinked, “I thought you didn’t have a dog?”

Johnny had already shoved his shoes on and was by the door with his bag, “It’s a- uh- metaphor! Scottish!”

Johnny was out the door in a second, Simon could see him running across the street to his house at lightning speed. Simon blinked as his dad walked over to the door and shut it, Johnny having left so fast he didn’t even check to see if he closed it. John was too quiet, seemingly processing everything in silence.

“So… birds ‘n the bees-“

“Dad- No! Oh my god! You already put me through that!”

“That was the censored version! This is the full, educational version!”

“DAD!”

The yelling would attract Kyle and Nik to the living room. Simon blocked it all out, face on fire as he thought about Johnny. And his chest only fluttered in response, even with the embarrassment of it all.

#ghost is los vaqueros #valeria and ale used to date before him and rudy #teen!ghost au #call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #cod nikolai #alejandro vargas #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #soapghost #ghostsoap #drabble #fic #ficlet #ask #thanks for the ask <3

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Today's @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is unrequited!

(936 words.)

"Oh, just fuck right off!" Sirius snaps, grip tightening on his butterbeer.

"God, what's gotten into you?" Marlene asks, arching an eyebrow. To be perfectly honest, Sirius doesn't want to talk about it.

James is more than happy to, though.

"Don't worry about him. He's all pissy because of his unrequited love." Sirius' head immediately snaps up, alarmed.

"Prongs," He says, warning. His eyes almost involuntarily dart to Remus for half a second, panic seeping through him. James, however, is teetering on the line between tipsy and drunk, completely missing the hint.

"Mm, completely hung up on some girl, right?" Peter chimes in, and Sirius almost wants to laugh. The urge to drop dead is much stronger, though. To crawl into a hole and say there until this conversation ends.

"Something like that," Sirius says quickly, before turning away from them both. Fingers crossed, he can just shut this down. "Hey, Lily, that potions essay..."

Unfortunately for him, Lily seems just as invested.

"How do you know it's unrequited?" She asks curiously. Remus lifts his head, then, nose out of his book. For some reason, that's what tips him over the edge. He needs everyone to stop. This is difficult enough.

"Because I asked, okay?" He says hurriedly. It causes his friends to lapse into silence, but it's like he's just burst a dam. The explanation starts before he can hold it back. "I asked, and they said no. They said it was a bad idea, we were too close for that."

"Huh," Mary hums.

"What?" Sirius asks with a frown.

"They didn't say they don't like you?" Mary asks, and it really throws Sirius. He hasn't considered that.

"No, not exactly," He muses, frowning. "But why would anyone reject someone they like?"

"Maybe they were scared of ruining the friendship you two have," Remus speaks up gently, almost inaudibly from across the common room; capturing Sirius' attention in less than a second.

"That makes no sense," Sirius says without missing a beat, eyes locking with Remus. "They should know me well enough to know that I wouldn't let that happen. I know they wouldn't. We've survived worse."

From the corner of his eye, he can see confusion flit across James' face at that comment. Yeah, it was a bit of a risky thing to say. He's practically handing James the truth. It doesn't matter, though. Not right now. His eyes are fixed on Remus.

"Depends on what you think is worse. They might be worried about a messy breakup getting in the way."

"No, that can't be it," He says, imploring. The longing to see into Remus' mind, figure out what he means is too strong. He'll have to unravel it this way instead. "If they're already thinking about a breakup, then clearly they don't like me that much. Unrequited." He wants nothing more than to drop the matter now that he's proven his point to himself. Maybe he doesn't need to see inside Remus' mind. He goes to down the rest of his drink, but Remus is shaking his head, and Sirius is losing sight of everyone else in favour of Remus.

"Or they just care too much about you." There's something in Remus' eyes, an ache that Sirius wants to heal.

"Really? Why would they reject me when I told them how I feel, then?!" Sirius asks desperately. It seems to snap Remus' resolve, burst his ambigious speech.

"Because I'm in love with you, Sirius! Okay?! Christ, this isn't just some- some joke, or some experiment to me! You looked me in the eye and told me you liked me, and that- that made me hope, okay? I don't want to hope. To think that you liking me means you'll fall in love with me. I mean," He releases a breathy laugh, seemingly unaware to the way Sirius' world is turning on it's axis, "I'm me, and you're- you're perfect."

He seems to have reached the end of his tangent, pattering out as everyone looks between the two of them, stunned. Sirius searches his brain, which may or may not be short circuiting, for some way to voice his thoughts. There are so many things he could say, so many ways to tell Remus everything, but none of them seem to be enough. Enough to encompass everything. A better solution comes to him as his yearning overwhelms him.

With that, he sets his butterbeer down and crosses the common room. Remus' eyes widen, suddenly unsure, until Sirius pulls himself into Remus' armchair, facing him. He reaches out, pressing a hand against Remus' cheek and finally, finally connecting their lips. It's everything he could have imagined and more.

Remus' lips are soft, warm against his, overwhelmingly perfect, and making Sirius desperate to stay there forever, mapping out every inch of Remus' mouth, the way it fits against his like they should have been doing this forever. It's a feeling Sirius knows he's never going to forget, causing the words he has been desperately repressing for years bubbling up inside him.

"I love you," Sirius murmurs against Remus' lips after a moment. "I love you so much, Moony."

Their eyes meet again, Sirius watching as Remus' eyes go from searching to joyful, a grin splitting across his face. It took a whooping cheer from James to break the spell that Remus' eyes got him in. They both turn to their friends, a laugh escaping Sirius as he drops his head into Remus' shoulder.

"Thank fuck that's sorted, then!" Lily says brightly, a wry smile on her face.

Okay, Sirius is really grateful for his oversharing friends.

#teenage wolfstar are my faves #they're so oblivious and stupid I LOVE THEM #wolfstar #sirius black #wolfstar oneshot #marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot

[lovelettersforthedamned]

guess who just got their period 😒 .... now i need peter all cuddled up next to me just rambling while he holds me and rubs my back or my stomach as i fall asleep in his arms 🥺-🎀

The Importance of Touch (and Peter)

--genre: fluff that's so sweet, your teeth will start to hurt

--pairing: tasm!peter parker x afab!reader

--word count: 0.4k

--warnings: reader is a person who has a period, fluff.

love this cutsie little request ohemgee

--gif credits: @gatorstillman

More often than not, your period struck you like a damn bus. Obviously, you’re bleeding, but it’s not just that. Your cramps loved to attack your entire body, causing you to lay in bed all day. The thought of getting out of bed killed you, and when you did, you were hunched over doubling in agony. 

And when you’re in pain, Peter follows. He’s always by your side, mostly for moral support, but also for when you need another ibuprofen. You couldn’t have asked for someone better when it came to things like this. 

Peter is extremely patient, with all things, but especially you. And as he’s under you, rubbing your lower back, you reflect on how much you love him.

He’s been rambling about his spider duties as his rhythmic motions on your skin slowly put you in a blissful daze. The sun is shining through your windows, a warm glow pouring in like it always does during this time in the afternoon. 

As you’re lying on his chest, you can hear his steady heartbeat, the rise and fall of your head as he breathes in and out, and the deep hum of his voice as it reverberates through his body. You wish you could stay like this forever, but for now, you’ll have to keep this moment in your memory. With Peter, it was like he took all your pain away, allowing you to have a moment of peace within your hectic day. 

You’ve been responding to Peter as he recounts his night, painting you a descriptive picture in the process. Simple ‘mm-hmm’s were enough for Peter to keep talking until he noticed your silence more than anything. 

Craning his neck, he sees how your eyes dart back and forth under your eyelids as you sleep. He can’t help but bring his other hand up to your face, softly running his fingers over the skin on your cheeks. Bringing his head down, he places a deep kiss into your hairline, “Good night, bug. I love you.” 

Just because you were asleep doesn’t mean he stopped rubbing your back. Peter kept a steady pace until he fell asleep with you, both of your breaths in sync with one another's. 

--author's note: something short and sweet for the kids, alright? also helloooo, i've been in a weird burnout funk recently (womp womp). this is my little contribution to writing my baby girl peter parker LOL. ALSO 🎀 anon you're cooking with these asks, and also i'm on my period too...don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support your fav writers!!! my inbox/asks are open to send in requests babes. ok, ily bye<3333

#peter parker x reader #fluff #marvel #andrew garfield peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #spiderman #tasm!peter parker fluff #peter parker #tasm!peter parker blurb #tasm!peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine