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#there's more coming feat. peter
drvscarlett · 25 days
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The Tortured Drivers' Department
— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged
Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece
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Fortnight
— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)
The Tortured Poets Department 
— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)
My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 
— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)
Down Bad
— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)
So Long, London
— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)
But Daddy I Love Him
— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)
Fresh Out the Slammer
— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)
Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine) 
—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)
Guilty as Sin?
—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?
— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)
I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)
loml
— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)
I Can Do It With a Broken Heart 
— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)
The Alchemy
—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)
Clara Bow
— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)
The Black Dog
— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader
imgonnagetyouback
— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)
The Albatross
— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)
Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus
—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)
How Did It End?
— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)
So High School
—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)
I Hate It Here
—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)
thanK you aIMee
— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)
I Look in People’s Windows
—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)
The Prophecy
—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)
Cassandra
—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)
Peter
— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)
The Bolter
— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)
Robin
— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)
The Manuscript
—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)
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rodolfoparras · 9 months
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Pillow talk
Pairing: FTM! Peter B. Parker x Top Male Reader
Synopsis: In which Peter, a married man, gets off to the thought of being with someone other than his spouse
Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, emotional infidelity, cheating kink, pillow humping, masturbation, oral sex, Peter has a size kink, Peter being a bit of a pervert
A/n: as always pls excuse any mistakes I tried a new writing style here, also if you want you can listen to More Than Friends by Isabel LaRosa while reading this since it’s heavily inspired by it!
A tired sigh escapes Peter’s lips as his bones bleed into the sheets. The window’s cracked ajar, allowing cold autumn air to mingle with the smell of MJ’s perfume that’s lingering around in the room.
He’s stripped down to nothing but his tattered pink robe, searing skin exposed to the chilly sensation emitting from his wedding ring as it trails along the length of his body.
For the first time in a while Peter’s gotten some time alone.
MJ has taken Mayday for the day and left so that Peter could have the house to himself, claiming he’d been pent up for a while and supposedly needed a break.
Peter hadn’t argued against it but had instead taken the offer with grace since it’s true that he has been feeling pent up but not for the reason MJ thinks. Peter’s sure that if she knew the reason behind his recent behaviors she wouldn’t be so willing to help him.
For the last couple of weeks Peter’s been plagued with the realization that he didn’t hate his neighbor, not his next door neighbor because that man is a menace and Peter’s pretty sure the hate’s mutual.
Instead he’s come to the realization that he didn’t hate his neighbor on the floor below him, that neighbor being you.
At first he was sure that he hated you since you made his spider senses tingle, well at least that’s what he thought it was.
He’d first met you at a neighborhood block party. You had recently moved in or so he had heard and were more than eager to get acquainted with the neighbors for whatever reason.
You were lounging around in a lawn chair when he had first arrived with MJ and Mayday.
The poor thing threatened to give out under your weight but you paid it no mind as you entertained a conversation with a neighbor and nourished a beer in your hand.
When you rose to greet him, Peter noticed that you were a whole head taller than him so it was no wonder that you made his spider senses tingle.
He tried his best to ignore you but even when he couldn’t see you, he could smell you since you wore this stupid cologne that smelled stronger than anything MJ’s ever worn before and because of that he could always tell when you were lingering around.
If he thought that smelling and seeing you was bad then touching you was something else.
He’d purposely opted out of a handshake when you first greeted each other but that didn’t save his spider sense from going into overdrive after having your knees knock together while you were sat at the same table or having your elbows brush against each other while scooping up leftovers.
However even though you made his spider sense go off, Peter had quickly realized that you weren’t a threat, at least not a dangerous one.
You were friendly and always made sure to spark up a conversation with him, even when you'd be in a rush to something.
You’d go out your way to bring him any of his mail or packages that happened to be misplaced.
Hell you'd even baby sat Mayday a handful of times so it was safe to say you weren’t a threat. But for whatever reason Peter couldn’t seem to get you out of his head.
Especially after hearing your ever so polite voice protruding through his thin bedroom walls, your dirty words squeezing between his and Mj’s hushed conversations. Or seeing the way you basically engulfed whoever was in your arms but unlike the lawn chair they seemed to thrive from being in your embrace. And escaping the smell of your cologne turned out to be a hard feat since every other day someone would be prancing around in one of your shirts dozed in the smell of it.
He doesn’t even remember when he started making sure that he’d be the one to pick Mayday up from your house, just to see whatever lounge wear you’d be prancing around in that day and the bit of skin that always seemed to show through it.
He doesn’t remember when he started hoping that the mailman would misplace yet another letter or package just so that he could feel your calloused fingertips brushing against his as you handed him something.
He doesn’t even remember when he started biting his tongue just so he wouldn’t ask you who he had seen standing outside your door the previous night.
He shouldn’t be feeling like this. He has MJ and he has Mayday and as far as he knows he’s happy. He’s just pent up, like MJ had said.
It’s not like Peter and MJ don’t have sex. It’s just that she doesn’t do it for him, at least not anymore.
Every time they get intimate he’d have to fake an orgasm or jerk off after she’d gone to bed. Lately he’s even had to pretend to be asleep every time she tried to initiate something because he simply wasn’t up for it.
So he’d find other ways to entertain himself and one of the ways being with inappropriate thoughts of his neighbor.
And things kind of escalate from there not in the literal sense since you’re so fucking polite, wont even look at him twice, keeping a respectful distance to a man who has a kid and a wife.
But God Peter wishes that you did, so much so he imagines you pinning him to the bed, hip to hip, chest to chest, those strong arms and thighs caging him into the mattress
The tattered robe wrapped around his frame doesn’t compare to the way your body would feel on top of his. But he keeps it on anyway, closes his eyes and pretends that the hand leisurely dragging across his limbs is your body pushing down onto his.
He imagines the way your lips would slot together, hot breath washing over his cheek as you whisper dirty words to him.
A thumb finds his lips, teasingly tugging and taunting at the bottom lip. It feels nothing like your calloused fingertips but his tongue peaks past his lips, tasting the salty skin before sinking down on it.
He imagines how you’d tease and taunt him in that polite voice of yours that managed to whisper such dirty words, how you’d mock him for wanting to be fucked like a bitch in heat despite the wedding band digging into his skin, maybe you’d force him to say it just so that he hears it from his own lips or so that the whole neighborhood can hear how desperate he is.
He imagines you straddling his waist grinding into him while wearing nothing but your boxers, teasing him to point where he’s soaking through his own pair of underwear.
A hand slides down his chest, blunt nails dragging down his happy trail, only to stop at the fringe of curls atop of his cunt, tugging and taunting til he’s all worked up.
He imagines your long fingers thrusting into him , or making him finger himself while wearing his wedding band, prepping himself to be fucked by someone other than his spouse.
And God he’s already so wet, fingers easily coating in his arousal as he trails them up his cunt, and in that very moment he can't help but think how MJ never gets him like this.
But his fingers are not enough- this little fantasy of his is not enough but you’re too good to do anything about it so he rolls onto his stomach before propping the pillow between his legs, pretending it’s your face.
He imagines the bed creaking under your shared weight, and the way the smell of your cologne would engulf his senses. He imagines the way your calloused fingertips would sink into the supple skin of his thighs and the way your ever so polite voice would sound as you command him to properly sit down.
He starts moving slowly, rolling his hips cautiously, imagining the way your tongue would experimentally delve through his folds.
The pillow slides in between his folds, coarse fabric creating a steady pressure onto his engorged numb, not enough to overwhelm his senses but enough to send jolts of pleasure coursing through his body every time he moves his hips.
He imagines you wanting to take your time with him wanting to taste him, tongue licking a strip along his cunt up to his puffy clit where you’d continue to tease him until he’s begging and urging you to hurry before someone can find the two of you like this.
But you wouldn’t listen to him, wouldn’t care if anyone were to find you like this, hand slapping his ass in warning before you continued to do as you pleased.
His hand cups the globe of his cheek, much like the way you’d do it if you were with him, except his fingers feel nothing like yours. But the cold sensation from his ring as it slaps his searing skin sends sparks of pleasure coursing through his entire body and for one second it almost feels like you’re actually there with him.
The coarse fabric of the pillow case reminds him so much of your stubble and it’s so wrong but feels so right - the thought of being fucked by someone other than his wife as huffs and pants escape his lips, hips moving faster as he wanders back to his fantasy.
He imagines you having him so worked up to the point where Peter’s long forgotten about the fact that someone can just walk in on you two because the bed’s creaking and he’s loudly begging and pleading for you to stop teasing.
Eventually you'd take pity on him, showing him mercy by properly latching onto his puffy clit, eagerly suckling on it before tonguing his hole.
He adjusts his hips, and the angle in which the pillow hits his clit changes slightly, and intensifies the sensation along with it.
“Oh- oh fuck!” He squeals out, toes curling as he throws his head back.
He imagines the way you’d easily have him teetering on the edge of his release with Peter begging and pleading for you to let him finish.
He can almost taste it, can hear the Squelching sounds mingling with the sound of needy noises escaping his lips. He can even smell his arousal: strong and heady, knowing he’s probably stained the pillow under him and will need to wash it before MJ comes back but for now he can’t find it in himself to care.
He’s so close, needs just a bit more -and that’s when he picks up on the sound of your footsteps walking up the stairs, smells the scent of your cologne bleeding into the air.
You must be on your way to his apartment to bring yet another misplaced package.
And Peter knows it’s wrong but it feels so right, feels himself tip over the edge as you read what’s written on the parcel, out loud
“To Peter B. Parker, please handle with care”
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cheralith · 10 months
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the ghost of you | miguel o'hara
synopsis: you thought he was gone. what you didn't know was that he was waiting for you a universe away... or in other words... miguel is your gwen stacy and in another life, you're his.
word count: 2.5k (unedited as of 07/19 per usual)
a/n: a short (or at least in my terms is short) oneshot of sorts just to scratch that miguel angst itch
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you never particularly believed in second chances.
you thought they were something foolish to believe in. often you think that second chances alternated the future that bewitched you with its cruelty towards you, despite knowing that this was what was to become the moment you put on that suit that gleamed to others of pride and glory.
fate as an embodiment is never, and will never, be kind towards you. you never believed in second chances because they were never offered to you because if they were, you could've prevented the entirety that was your life if you could've just chosen a different path.
you could've never gotten the job at alchemax.
you could've never been one of the star scientists that captured the attention of tyler stone.
you could've never met him—the love of your life.
because if you didn't, he would've been safe in the blissful ignorance that was your existence. but now, the haunting image of his face laying woefully in your lap—loving eyes now permanently close, the shallow river of crimson streaming from his nose with pale and dry lips that could no longer whisper sweet nothings slightly agape—is now permanently tattooed in the halls of your memory.
the failure to save the one person you kept to closely at heart served as a reminder that you had a duty to attend to and that you were to attend to it with nothing more than confidence, that you were to never repeat such a feat ever again.
because death offers no second chances to those who he greets. second chances are mere child's play, a figure of imagination that people choose to believe out of hope.
at least, that's what you've chosen to believe.
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whenever jessica looks at you, you just barely manage to catch the glimpse of a particular look that you can't pinpoint the exact emotion of. you think it's a mixture of melancholy or apprehensiveness, but you're never able to quite accurately describe the look for it. but it goes away just as fast as it comes, her quickly shooing it away as if it was a pesky spider.
you've never inquired about it. you don't think you should, really, especially considering when she's in charge of possibility escorting you to what you've never known you could desire for.
"i've decided," jess states, a hand going to caress her prominent belly affectionately.
you let out a hum, your gaze not moving from the magnificent view you and her share of your universe's new york's skyline—you wonder how it differs from her own new york. "decided what?"
from her amber glasses, she offers you swift glance. "decided to perhaps let you visit hq once and for all."
it's no surprise that her statement makes your eyes go wide and jaw slack. jessica drew had found you alone in your own universe awhile ago, her being the first proven evidence that there were worlds beyond yours existing... meaning that there was existence of different variants of you. acquiring that knowledge had sparked an excitement in you that you hadn't felt in such a long time, that you didn't even know you could feel.
you wanted to see the other spider-people, a hunger caverning itself within you to know more, see more, to satisfy the loneliness you've felt since the dreaded day you lost miguel o'hara. to know that others likeminded to you actually existed was something you longed to confirm, leading to jessica constantly putting up with your begging to see what the headquarters of the so-called "spider society" was like.
you've met a few already—the rebellious, yet ambitious hobie brown from earth-138, the egotistic, yet grandiloquent ben reilly from earth-94, and the sarcastic, yet compassionate peter b. parker from earth-616. but it isn't enough. a yearn to see all of everyone alike to you grows stronger and stronger by the day, yet jessica is always quick to deny you from seeing hq and the rest of the spider-people, quick to excuse it with her needing to “evaluate you more.”
something about the excuse seemed rather loose to you, as if it was a cover-up for something... bigger? but again, you never questioned her actions because if you did, you could end up screwing yourself over and the possibility of you never joining them was perhaps a pit that welcomed you with open arms.
but now, after what seemed like ages (it was a given three weeks in reality) of consistent "no"'s and "soon"'s, your wish has been finally granted.
"do you mean it?" you whisper excitedly, leaning towards her with a gleeful smile. "like, really mean it?!"
"no, actually i was just joking," jess says with a suppressed grin. you whine aloud with furrowed brows, making her laugh aloud. "i'm kidding. yes, i mean it. i talked with my... my superior of sorts... and they granted me permission to let you into the spider-society."
jess watches with a soft grin as you giddily bounce about the twilight-cladded rooftop, the phrase of "thank you" endlessly on loop from your lips. with no time to waste on either ends, jessica opens up a portal leading to the universe that the spider-society was held in, jutting her head towards it for you to step foot in.
the tantalizing colors of a fiery sunset twirl about in your vision as the hum of the portal whispers itself in your ears. you've gone in portals before, but this particular one forces you to ground yourself and truly acknowledge what was to become of this present moment because the moment you enter this portal, your fate was sealed.
and fate gives no second chances regardless of any situation.
"nervous?" jess asks as she stands still besides you, examining your hypnotized state.
you swallow thickly, despite the smile still lifted atop your lips. "a little..."
"i see," she hums. she studies your features for a bit, admiring the way the sun halos your side profile before her gaze returns to the portal that you still stare at.
jessica suppresses a giggle, with her hand lifting slowly behind you without acknowledgement before it pushes you in with no warning. your screams of terror fall deaf on her ears, her being too busy with a soft fit of laughter at your bewilderment.
"jess!?" you shout from inside the portal.
"sorry, my hand slipped," she calls from the outside, mindlessly examining her fingernails.
"i'm gonna kill you!" you screech before your figure dissipates itself from her view.
jessica watches as the portal expands itself again like a blooming flower before she turns away from it once again, the smile of amusement fading ever so quickly. her wrist lifts itself up and quietly she murmurs into her device, "are you one hundred percent sure about this?"
there's a static that scuffs by before another voice stereos from it, one that jessica knows for a fact that you'll be much too accustomed to.
"there's no going back now."
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jessica thinks she might have to put you on a leash. somehow, you've reverted back into a child at a playground from the way you're consistently getting out of her sight, too distracted by all the unique spider-people that pass you.
"i love your armor," you compliment with glowing cheeks to the spider-knight that gives you a salute. "wow, her hair is really cool... i love that guy's webbing! holy shit, is that a fucking t-rex?"
"yes yes," jess sighs and grabs you by your collar, "that's pter. he's one of us, now would you please behave?"
you smile sheepishly at her, "sorry... i can't help but get—a cat!"
jessica slaps a hand to her forehead, rubbing it with annoyance. you're not much younger than she is, but she thinks that there's too much of a resemblance between a five year old and the you that's much too preoccupied petting a content peter pawrker that purrs as you affectionately scratch behind his ears.
while rather a little irked, jessica can't help but feel a little at ease with the more time that gets eaten up as it passes by. she knows it's foolish, but to put off the one thing that you were supposed to come here for was perhaps ideal, knowing that the future truly remains unknown of what to come in the next few minutes.
her anticipation grows more weary by the second, especially as you and her approach the one location that is rarely ever allowed visitors.
she shoots a web and reels you back to her, not wanting to waste any more time than needed. your pleas of wanting to pet spider-cat more are ignored, being replaced with an urgency of, "there's someone i want you to meet."
jess walks you to a darkened and closed off area of the headquarters, one that you didn't know would've existed had she not lead you there. it's dark all around, the wide and vast space only illuminated by the golden glow of holographic computers atop a floating platform. there's no one around, just the hum of the technology filling the void until a voice echoes out from seemingly nowhere.
"you may leave, jess."
your companion offers you a final goodbye, a whisper of "you'll be okay, he doesn't bite." tickling your ear. there's not much time to react, as jessica stalks off faster than you can blink, and the thundering shut of the door bellows in the corridor.
you're left alone in the odd, dark room. it's a contrasted atmosphere to the interior of hq and rather, it unsettles you—especially considering the fact that despite it seeming like you're by yourself, you're not alone.
"are you the person that jess was talking about?" you ask quietly, hoping that despite the timidity and softness of your voice, that it's still heard.
the voice thunders out again hauntingly.
"you haven't changed."
the majority of your voice gets caught in your throat. something about that voice seems vaguely familiar, but seven words aren't enough for you to quite decipher its owner, despite the wisp of the ghost of the past whispering something unintelligible behind you.
"i-i'm sorry?" you state aloud with your voice caught between a question and a nervous laugh.
the owner of the voice stays quiet for a still moment before speaking once more.
"why are you still just as beautiful as the day i lost you?"
your brows furrow. are you supposed to know him? this person?
you're so focused on the platform of computers that it doesn't register to you that someone emerges from the shadows from behind you until the wind of something... someone grazing you. reflexes jumping into action, you gasp and jump back, your feet skidding themselves on the ground too painfully to the point where your balance is lost and your back stumbles first on the ground.
the shadow comes closer to you and fear strikes itself in your heart at last. something about this person is warning you with danger, that something bad is brewing. your hands dig into the ground and shuffle yourself backwards until you hit the wall. your heart is pounding painfully loud, with the rhythm of it pumping through your ears. a scream is begging to be let out of your throat, a certain type of terrified you haven't felt in years clawing at the edge of it, but the only thing that you can let out is a weakened whimper.
whoever the shadow is merely comes closer to you in the same pace he kept himself at, showing no signs of stopping.
the light of the moon that seeps into the rooftop windows suddenly let the light in and spotlights the person at last, making all the resolve in your body evaporate the moment you catch his face.
the face that's supposed to not exist anymore—the face of a dead lover who you watched with your own two eyes slip from your life—is currently plastered itself in front of you.
the face of miguel o'hara stares at you with the same daunting expression you wear.
the last time you saw this face was in the open casket funeral held for him two weeks after his death. you had stared at it for what seemed to be hours in the open rain, trying to come to terms that you will never see it again.
yet here you are, looking at it once more in the life that you thought would never show you any sort of mercy.
"miguel...?"
the person in front of you crouches down to your height and comes shyly closer to you, afraid that if he made the wrong move, you'd scamper away from him like a frightened doe.
unconsciously, you lift your hand up to truly see if what you were seeing right now was real—that your deceased lover was somehow alive right in front of you. the miguel that stands before you lets your hand cradle his cheek ever so gently, like he was made of the finest glass alive. the physical contact jolts you awake again and out of your trance, making you retract your hand as if you had just touched something hot.
miguel blinks. his chest heaves, mimicking your own that pools with longing. he goes to gently touch your hand again, bringing it back up to his face and shuffling his cheek to feel the warmth of it again.
the way his his face fits so nicely in your palm makes your chest burn.
"mi sol..." he murmurs, his lips wisping a soft kiss to your palm.
and suddenly, you're alive again. it's a different sort, the type of liveliness that only love could spark. so when you realize that the very flame you thought could never be lit again is once burning bright, you break into sobs.
your arms wrap around his neck tightly, like he'll be taken away from you all over again. his own go to hug your waist in the same manner, enveloping you in a warmth you could never seem to mimic with anyone else.
"i thought i lost you," you cry quietly, the image of miguel's face during that night flashing through your eyes.
his hand caresses your hair warmly. "i thought i lost you," he murmurs back, his throat evidently tight with a flood of yearning emotions.
you retract back and study him carefully this time, making sure he's here with you right now... alive.
and when his lips connect with yours for the first time in years, it doesn't take long for you to return the favor, knowing that the one thing you've longed for the most for the past years is finally back into your arms.
deep inside, you know he isn't your miguel, just in the same sense that you aren't his (y/n). you know that no matter how many miguels and (y/n)s are out there, no two could ever replicate each other in the manner that the latter wants.
but for now, you let yourself indulge in this second chance you thought could never come to life.
by the power of fate though... it somehow did. and you'd rather not waste any more time questioning it.
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Text
Time
Jason Todd x fem!reader
Warnings: just fluff
~~~
Something nudges your cheek, attempting to draw you from the realm of sleep. You groan, swatting it away, startled by the fleshy thud, the burst of quiet laughter right next to your ear.
"Jasonnnn," you whine, scooting away from his hot breath and peeling your eyes open just enough to take in the red numbers on the alarm clock. "It's seven o'clock, Jason Peter Todd! Why am I awake?"
"I was lonely." His voice is quiet, barely more than a grating whisper, his morning voice thick, his words spoken simply. You roll over so you can face him, huffing at how ridiculous he is but with no real frustration. It's Jason, he's pretty, too pretty to be upset with. His eyes are still blurry with sleep, only half open and vaguely focused on you, hair wild and frizzy from rubbing on his pillow all night, he looks younger like the trouble and years have fallen away.
The blistery light filtering into the room is too bright, making you squint just a little as you take in Jason's face in the soft glow. Your foot brushes his, causing you both to smile, legs tangling together beneath the plush duvet. This moment is one of your favorites. A new day outside your window, but inside it's just you and him, twisted together like one person in his bed, lazy and happy. You're always slow to rise on days like these, sappy, lethargic like the world is stuck in molasses, sweet and unhurried.
"Let's stay in bed all day," you suggest, knowing your boyfriend won't disagree. He's leaning in to kiss you in response, chapped lips tipped up into a barely there smile, eyes full of mirth at the idea, borderline giddy.
"After," you stop him with a finger pressed firmly to his lips, your own lips parting when he kisses the soft pad of your finger, tenderly but full of passion, like he wants you to know something. Something he doesn't have to say. "After you brush your teeth."
Jason rolls his eyes but immediately throws the blankets off in a dramatic flurry of movement, earning a laugh from you. You watch for just a moment as he walks away, appreciating the muscles contracting across his back. Broad shoulders.
"Wait! I'm coming too!" you call to his retreating back, scrambling to get out of bed, instantly missing the warmth and comfort. Tripping into the bathroom just behind him, you plow into his back, rubbing your forehead as you grumble under your breath.
"What the hell, dude?"
"Stay back, babe. There's a big spider."
You squeeze under his arm, trying to find the spider in question. There on the cream-colored tile, a tiny little dark spot against the bright floor is a spider no bigger than your pinky tail. Really, it's smaller than that, but for Jason's benefit, you try to see it as large. Try and fail.
"Jason."
"I'll take care of it, don't worry." He's reaching for a square of toilet paper as he speaks, tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration like this is truly some great feat of bravery for him.
"Jason."
Your hand on his arm stops him, looking over his shoulder at you, big blue eyes questioning. "He's tiny. Leave him alone."
He whips around to fully face you, incredulous, mouth agape. "Leave it? Those things are deadly!"
"I think we can manage. C'mon, we're just supposed to be brushing our teeth, not disrupting the peace. You can kill the spider if it leaves the bathroom. Deal?"
He sighs heavily, long-suffering, casting a distrustful look over his shoulder at the offensive creature who hasn't moved since you entered the bathroom. Hell, it may already be dead. "Fine."
Happy you won the non-argument you hand him his toothbrush, holding yours out as he squeezes a small ball of toothpaste onto the bristles. Wetting your brush beneath a trickle of water you wince as Jason shoves his into his mouth dry.
He grins at your curled lip, tapping his finger off your nose.
"Do you wash your hands without water too?" you tease, eyebrows raised as though no matter what he answers you'll take it as a yes.
"Saves water, baby. I'm eco-friendly."
You shake your head, bumping his hip with your own, smiling softly to yourself as you watch his face in the mirror. His features are expressive, fingers on his unoccupied hand tapping out a catchy beat against the laminate. Your eyes trace the scars littering his face and neck, a careful path down his exposed chest, all of them familiar.
Somehow you both manage to slide closer, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, as near to one another as you can be. He glances down at you, lifting his hand to wipe a stray glob of foamy toothpaste from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.
The affectionate gesture short circuits your brain, sending your emotions into a hormonal frenzy, desperate for Jason, all of him, needing him all to yourself.
As soon as both toothbrushes clink in the glass cup you store them in, bristles slightly damp, bumping into each other before stilling in the cup, Jason is pulling you in, large hands on your hips, eyes serious, lips seeking yours. The instant his mouth is on yours you can't remember why you stalled, why you didn't demand a kiss as soon as your eyes opened this morning. Soft lips, hot tongue, enough spit to illicit a loud moan that Jason swallows without hesitation. Your fingers are pulling on the ends of his hair, pleading with him for more, earning a happy groan.
Hot fingers against your skin have you shivering in pleasure, hands circling his neck, fingers scraping over muscle and bone, leaving pink lines in their wake. His hands are cupping your butt, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist, and you don't resist, squeezing your thighs. The shudder that crawls up his spine is worth it.
When he finally pulls away, a shit-eating grin on his face, you're breathless and dizzy, looking up at him with lovesick eyes.
"Come along, Y/N. Your day in bed awaits."
You slide down his chest, lingering, sneaking another kiss before you take a small step back. With a sweeping gesture, he lets you step past him, the worn carpet beneath your bare feet a familiar path back to his room. He closes the door behind you with a soft click, a soft expression on his face as you crawl beneath the covers, curling into a ball.
"You comin' or what?"
He nods, pulling his curtains closed to shroud the room in as much darkness as possible, wanting to keep your bubble intact, needing to have you alone today.
"We should get a dog," he blurts, eyes widening with an edge of panic the second the words leave his mouth, waiting with bated breath for your reaction. His lips are struggling to form words, an apology, an explanation, some slew of unnecessary syllables.
"We should," you agree, voice soft, reassuring, watching as he visibly sags with relief, tension bleeding into the air around him before dissipating. "A Corgi maybe? Or a French Bulldog," you continue, easily losing yourself in the idea of having a puppy with Jason.
That would be the pinnacle of your life. Coming home from work to Jason cooking dinner to surprise you, feeding harmless scraps to a puppy who waddles over to you the moment you step into the room, trailed by your boyfriend tugging you into a kiss. The idea had never before crossed your mind, but now it seems impossible that you survived without the mental image, the pleasant domesticity of it all turning you to mush in Jason's bed.
"I want a big dog," his voice breaks through your reverie, an argument, but you're much too docile in this state to care.
"A big dog? Yeah, okay. That's fine. A German Shepherd? Or a Doberman?"
Jason hums, finally slipping into bed next to you, body curling around yours. "Yeah, maybe one of those. I don't really know."
"We've got time to figure it out, Jase."
He smiles down at you, eyes bright with something you can't quite describe, happy and relaxed, just enjoying one another's presence.
You've got time.
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solurae · 7 months
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four eyes (more to love underneath the frames) — PT.1
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HELLO!!! okok the prologue received some good reception so i will!!! be continuing the series :3c THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE NICE COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND OHHHH MY GOD THE MOTHER OF NERD!MIGUEL @nymphomatique REBLOGGED MY PROLOGUE (i could die happy) ty for the food and the inspiration to start this series!!!
i’m still the process of setting up my tumblr because my ass made this my secondary blog (but idek if that changes anything… i don’t think) OH AND YES THERE IS NOW A TAG FOR THE SERIES! ALSO PLSPLSPLS DON’T BE AFRAID TO SEND THROUGH ASKS FOR DRABBLES OR REQUESTS OR ANYTHING REALLY!!! i’m more than happy to feed us both hehe
tw/cw: mmmm not any i can think of (FIXING ANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS AFTER POSTING BECAUSE I’M COOL)
PROLOGUE?! < <
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“sorry students, the projector is currently out of order so i’d like for all of you to just go through the powerpoint on your own. feel free to come up and ask questions.” the professor sighs as he closes his laptop and settles down onto his desk, the chatter of other students and laptop keyboards create the perfect white noise for your 8AM lecture.
you weren’t really that keen on studying this period anyway so you’ll just get it done later but god he looked so much better up close. why did miguel have to be so fucking dorky and hot and cool all at fucking once? it bothered you that miguel has never spoken to you. ever. but with that in mind, no one would ever think of the effect this nerd had on you, not even the nerd himself.
“oi mate, mandem depending on you to pass this class.” you shake your head after you’re slightly shoved to the side of your desk by none other than your best friend bad influence. hobie, hobie, hobie… you groan as you look his way, legs propped up on the desk as if he’s completely unaware that he’s in an lecture hall. next to him is peter, trying to shove hobie’s legs off the table for fear of accidentally hitting miguel who was seated right infront of you.
peter and hobie were the angel and devil on your shoulder that manifested into your closest friends. it was so hard to make friends (partially because you weren’t interested in anyone aside from miguel) and that everyone in your class were already in tight knit friend groups, and it was clear they all wanted to keep it that way with the silent treatment and one-sided conversations. but that didn’t matter. what did matter was that neither of them were taking this class seriously.
hobie - for god knows what reason - just took the class for fun. well, hobie took it out of spite. he said and you quote, “it is my take on deconstructing the stereotypes and preconceptions of particular social groups alongside us punks that dictate that we lack the desire and strive for academic feats”. and you know what? for someone who likes to laze around and count the panels of wood used on the ceiling for half the lecture, his high grades put his narrow-minded folks to shame. oh and peter? although he couldn’t afford to skip his classes, he did anyway. mary jane, MJ - the mother to his children, as he calls her - is in the humanities elective they both share. and peter might as well skip that class instead of looking at MJ as if she invented humanities. you don’t know how watching you and hobie bicker was a better investment of peter’s time but no one was complaining. someone had to remind the both of you of operation miguel mutation, or in other words, get his gaze out of his books and onto your face.
“so much for wanting to prove the world wrong when you’re relying on someone else to do it for you”, you scoffed at hobie, pretending to brush dust off your shoulders. he chuckled, “i just wanted to know how it feels to be those good for nothing, narcissistic capitalists, is all”. you shoved him so hard it rattled your seats and you didn’t even realise you accidentally kicked miguel’s seat until his cold hard gaze towards you even made hobie look like an art piece in the middle of rendering.
“can i help you?”, fuuuuuuck off. he sounds so fucking hot. insanely hot.
his large pitch black frames could never obstruct how chiseled miguel was, he had angular features such as his nose, his jawline and even his cupid’s bow. but these features were softened with warm red eyes and wisps of his hair coming down to frame his forehead. o’hara’s face overall was slightly scrunched, his hand gripped onto the fold away desk while he faced you, his casual attire in sweats could barely hide his build. his mouth was slightly open, the very tip of his fangs making themselves known. he was definitely a specimen, a gorgeous specimen for lack of better word. you didn’t even realise you were staring at miguel until he raised his eyebrow and glanced over at hobie, then over to peter who was just happily content watching your unplanned, unconventional first meeting.
“oh. um, no?”, you were still confused why miguel (the man you’ve been trying to get the attention of ever since the first inkling of a feeling), suddenly turned around and spoke to you—
“excuse me, may i ask that you don’t disrupt your peers during class? i’m watching you too, brown.” if your teacher scolding you like a wack ass boy in year 9 wasn’t enough to make you embarrassed, your quick descent into realising that you quite literally pushed yourself - pushed miguel, rather - to make the first move. in the worst fucking way possible. you ducked your head a bit in an attempt to avoid the gazes of your classmates only to find your shoe jammed between the gap next to miguel’s seat, missing his elbow by a mere few centimetres.
you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
so much for devising a plan to properly introduce yourself by actually trying in class by answering the lecturers questions, to the point miguel can’t help but wonder that there is in fact competition. aware of his competitive nature, miguel would try to get ahead of you or widen that gap but then realise he was all wrong from the moment you’d tap his shoulder for a question you pretend to not understand, to look as if you’re struggling so much miguel can ignore his own studies for a little while to help you. men are stupid after all. miguel doesn’t apply here but being an outcast adjacent of the entire university has its benefits, in a way where it benefits your elaborate plan from stroking miguel’s ego by helping you, to ever so slightly become more and more interested in you. once you slowly ease into getting out of pretending to be an academic victim and miguel finds the joy in being academically challenged by the one girl who braved the odds and approach the mysterious mutant, he’d ask to you to meet at the cafeteria or the library. it didn’t matter. you would then, finally then, be in miguel’s line of sight.
“if this is your way of trying to get into my pants, i’m not interested.”
papers were stuffed into bags and the squeaking of chairs reverberated the lecture theatre. people were making their way to their next class while peter, hobie and yourself shared looks of disbelief, disgust, along with hobie’s infamous expression that scream the words i fucking told you so.
what the fuck? what the actual fuck was that?
o’hara didn’t miss a beat and swivelled around to start packing his belongings, completely unaware of how his response alone completely changed and destroyed all prior preconceptions about this man - or boy as you would now call him - turns out being smart never stopped anyone from being dickhead.
you felt like you just failed a quiz you didn’t know that was happening, despite being prepared to ace it.
it wasn’t like you to fail, however. especially not to him.
[ 🩷 — TAGS! @angelicful @lilipads @zaunsin @m4dyy @okkotszn @rhythmloid @cosmicbarstardust @thespaceinbetweennothing @cu1tvenus @huniedeux @oharasfilipinawife @ilovemuppets @loonalockley ] feel free to comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist!
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lazyjellyfish300 · 2 months
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The Woman He Didn't Choose Part 3 🥀
Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem contestant!Reader
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Synopsis: back on the beaches of Paradise, Miguel prepares to face you for the first time since breaking your heart in front of millions during his time as the Eligible Suitor. Word count 3.1k 🖤 one of the scenes is inspired by the casino night episode of The office between Jim and Pam.
A/N: If you're unfamiliar with the show Bachelor in Paradise, here's a clip to give you an idea. Basically, it's another dating show usually in a tropical location where single people couple up, and new arrivals come in every so often and ask people on dates to shake things up, leading to drama and chaos, and couples can choose to stay together or break up in the end and there's typically an engagement. DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO RIGHTS TO THE SHOWS THE BACHELOR OR BACHELOR IN PARADISE, ALL RIGHTS TO THE OWNERS. I CHANGED THE NAME OF THE SHOW IN THE STORY.
TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST, SMUT (DRY HUMPING, FINGERING, CUMMING IN PANTS, SPANKING, FANTASIZING) JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, PINING, DANGER, BULLYING, HEARTBREAK) sorry if I forgot anything...
Part 1 , Part 2, Part 4
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Thud...thud...thud.... 
"I...okay come on now...Mig...jeez. Get a grip!" Jess weakly tries to yank Miguel away from the bar which he was starting to pathetically knock his head against, the feeling in his body becoming deadweight; the buzz from the tequila partially responsible as he slumped backwards towards Jess. 
"Aaaa! Noir-HELP!" 
Jess jumped out of the way, no match for Miguel's huge frame and Noir was too sluggish and he toppled backwards off his bar stool onto the ground with a small thump. 
Noir and Jess looked down at the dazed expression on his face. A man tortured by Cupid laying in the sand, shirt half unbuttoned.
"You know, she had to watch you makeout with a different woman every single Monday for twelve weeks?" Noir points out. "Sometimes even back to back-woof."
Miguel blinks at him in response. 
"Seriouslyy though, not to mention the fairytale suites when you literally hooked up with two other women." Jess adds. "Honestly, you deserved this one." 
Miguel starts to groan, mumbling incoherent word jumbo, the inflections in his voice raising higher in pitch, making him sound like a giant baby as he rubbed circles in his eyes with the heel of his palm. 
Noir and Jess look at each other. It was gonna be a long night with this one. 
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You and Peter keep getting busy by the pool, everyone stayed clear of a 50 foot radius while your passionate escapade went on, the sounds you were making were painfully obvious. 
You were straddling Peter still, one of his hands in your swim suit bottoms as he curled two fingers inside your soft pussy. Peter looked up at you, your bouncing breasts, the soft texture of your skin, God everything about you was completely divine in this moment as you rode his lap. 
"Fuck...." He bit his lip as he thrust his hips, synchronizing them with yours. "You're close baby, aren't ya...? Talk to me, beautiful...." 
"Peter...." The pretty sounds you were making became more breathy. You brought your own hands to your tits, squeezing them, giving them a caress, putting on a show for him as you erotically lolled your head backwards. 
"Good God...." Peter's mouth slowly inched open, leaning back just a little so he could get a better view, the burning hickory color in his eyes completely overtaken by carnal desire, making him look so sexy in the dark.
"I could get used to watching you do that, baby...." He panted harder, adding his thumb to your clit. 
You whined sharply and he pulled you down closer, groaning as he felt your breasts squish against his chest, you nearly shoved your tongue down his throat but this only excited him further. He gave a low sensual growl into your mouth at the sensation. "So eager...mmm I'm loving this..." 
"Yeah baby?" You coo sweetly into his ear, letting him hear your impassioned moans.
"Fuck.... yeah..." Peter groaned, his hand landing another sharp spank on your ass, his fingers locking around your ass cheek right after it made contact. "Cum all over my hand, sweetheart..." he said through clenched teeth. 
"Peter..." You plead, the peak of your arousal nearly reached with the way his thumb gently kneaded your clit, delivering waves of wetness between your thighs. "I wanna cum on your cock..." 
"Oh my God...." Peter shut his eyes, that fiery coil building momentum in his body, he was close to his end as well. "I'll let you cum on my cock later, baby...I promise..." 
"Please, Peter?" 
"I know, beautiful...I know... it's okay, lovely girl..." He bites his lip again, curling his body deliciously below you. "Cum on my hand for me... just like this..."
You scream his name and give him just that, your warm arousal leaking all over him, and he cums in his swim trunks. He groans loudly, grabbing you by your neck with his free hand. You jerk towards him harshly at first, then the movement is more gentle as you meet him in a tender kiss. You melt as your tongues dance once more. You can't resist a cheeky smile in between kisses, a faint chuckle rolling off his lips into your mouth as he cutely brushes his nose against yours. 
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The cameras focus on you and Peter making your way down the stone steps onto the beach where the rest of the couples were hanging out. You had a huge smile plastered on your face, your fingers tangled with Peter's as one of his arms rested comfortably around your shoulder, holding you close. Your unofficial first entrance as the newest couple in Paradise. 
"Here-sit up." Jess hits Miguel's stomach with the back of her hand when she sees you and Peter approach, and he corrects his slouch and sits up proudly in his seat, his large pecs pushed up in a slightly comical matter. 
"You're overdoing it..." Jess murmurs out of the corner of her mouth. Miguel gulps and relaxes his shoulders a little bit, his heart beating out of his chest as he sees you face to face for the first time in months. 
All eyes are on you and Peter as people stand up from around the beachside bonfire, cheering for you two. Felicia squeals and runs up to you. You giggle and give her a hug and tug her back towards the tiki bar where you two go to catch up on the spicy events with Peter that just transpired. 
Ben pats the seat next to him, gesturing for Peter to sit down with a smirk on his face. "Well?" 
Peter just nods silently, a huge smile breaking out on his lips and the tops of his cheeks turning a healthy red.
"My man...." Ben slaps Peter on the back and hands him a beer, a snap and fizz as the can cracks open. "I'm happy for you buddy...let's drink to that." They laugh loudly and clink their beer cans together.
From across the fire pit, MJ's face remains neutral, although an intangible aura of tension hangs around her. She starts to blink rapidly as she tries to not give away her obvious jealousy, turning her attention to George next to her instead who's yapping loudly with Web-Slinger, cringing internally when she hears the problematic quality of the drunken jibberish he's spouting off. 
Miguel's face and chest gets hot again as he watches Peter and Ben, his jaw tense. Then, he looks over at you, playfully gossiping with Felicia. He stands up, slowly walking towards you two at the bar, his fingers tightening around the now sandy and slightly wilted rose he dropped earlier. 
In your peripheral vision, you sense someone approaching. You turn your head just a little, locking eyes with the target, nod, then turn back to face Felicia. Your neck nearly breaks when you jerk your head to look back at the target again, realizing it's not just anyone. 
It's Miguel. 
Your biggest heartbreak, the one who sat at the back of your mind at all times. His voice and his words a record that your ears forced you to listen to over and over again. The man responsible for humiliating you in front of millions of people behind a TV screen. The man who promised you the world and planted visions of a fairytale ending in your head then did a 180 the next day. The man who quite literally ripped your heart in half, repeatedly, forced you to watch him develop feelings, get physical and whisper sweet nothings to other women week after week as the show aired.  
Your Roman Empire standing before you in the form of rich scarlet eyes, a chiseled jaw, and that damned shy smile that was tugging at your heart strings, even now despite the months of torment he brought you. 
"Hi...." He says softly, eyes not wavering from yours. He was looking at you like you were the only person on that beach. Felicia's jaw fell open, the cameras were painfully close to your face, capturing your deer in headlights expression as you reacted in real time to this unbelievable twist of fate.
You remain a statue as he gently lifts his hand, offering you the lightly soiled rose. "Can we go talk, please?" His voice reduces to a whisper, the pleading in his tone emphasized by the way his eyebrows crinkle in the middle, those crimson eyes in an expression mimicking a sad puppy. 
You feel your knees get a little weak as your neck slightly cranes to look at him, his countenance reducing you to a puddle, but you realize immediately that you need to stay strong, don't be so fast to lower the drawbridge to your heart just yet. This man didn't choose you, and here he conveniently was right when you thought you had a spark for someone else. 
"What are you doing here?" You ask, your eyes narrowing, tone crisp and sharp. Miguel takes a deep breath, prepared to meet your figurative blade you had pointed at him in self defense. 
"It's a long story. I'll explain everything if you let me?" The corners of Miguel's eyes soften even more, every bit of his body language is submissive, begging, pleading with you to hear him out. 
Felicia looks at him incredulously, her icy eyes flicker to you, trying to read your expression. 
"Don't do it..." she mutters to you quietly. 
Miguel clearly heard what she said, but that doesn't stop him from still staring at you, holding his breath.
Your eyes move to Felicia and you place your hand on her forearm, gently pushing your cocktail towards her. 
"Just trust me...I got this..." you mutter back.
Felicia nods slowly, taking your cocktail in her hand. She shoots one last suspicious glare in Miguel's direction and walks back towards the bonfire to sit next to Ben, who's laughing loudly with Peter, both of them not paying any attention to what's going on. 
Miguel offers his arm to you but you shake your head, crossing your arms as you both walk side by side along the beach, the waves gently crashing as the nighttime descends along the shore. One of the cameramen keeping a healthy distance behind you. 
"So?" You say, keeping your eyes straight ahead, concentrating on some of the rocky cliffs in the distance. "What happened with Xina?" 
Miguel sighs. "I ended it." 
"You ended it?" you ask, slightly surprised at the revelation. "Thought you were in love..." 
"I was..." Miguel said curtly. You feel your heart skip at the past tense of his words. 
"What happened?" 
Miguel blows out air slowly from his nostrils. "She wasn't who I thought she was. I realized we were incompatible." 
You raise your eyebrows. You know him well enough to know there's more to the story. You'd get it out of him later when the cameras were off. 
"Well, sorry to hear that." You say, feigning sympathy. 
Miguel tries not to smile, thankful the darkness is concealing his face. He also knows you well enough to know that you certainly aren't sorry for him in the least. "So, you and Peter, huh?"
You smile, looking down at the sand. You both come to a stop in the middle of the beach, now quite a ways away from the others, the moon keeping watch above you, a camera zoomed in on your face.
 "Yeah..." you say, trying not to go into too much detail. "He caught me by surprise. We have a lot in common, so... I think I'm going to give this a shot." you nod, looking up at Miguel. 
Miguel is completely disappointed by this, but he nods, doing his best to conjure up a smile.
"I'm happy for you." 
A lie. 
"I hope that things go well with you two."
Another lie. 
"You deserve to be happy." 
The truth, even if it cut him a million times to say it out loud. 
"Thanks, Miggy..." You whisper. 
God, he would kiss you right now if he could. Why'd you call him by his damn nickname? Miguel's hands bunch into fists in his swim trunk pockets. His eyes go a little half lidded as he looks down at you. Heartbreak aside, you looked absolutely magnificent under the beach moonlight. 
Under different circumstances if he wasn't so foolish, you two would be in a location like this on your honeymoon, where you two wouldn't have any responsibilities besides letting the sun bathe your skin, and he'd keep your wine glass full, weaving pretty tropical flowers into your hair as you sat across from him at some lively outdoor restaurant on the waterfront. 
Where every night he'd take you to the shared cozy bungalow you two were staying in, groaning and biting his lip at the sight of your strapless maxi dress being tugged down the curves of your body, your lips parting, calling for him, begging for him to be inside...
"Can we be friends?" You ask. 
Miguel huffs, his fantasy brought to an abrupt halt, bringing him back to his less than ideal reality. "Don't do that..." Miguel shakes his head, looking upwards in defeat. "I want more than that..." He whispers, a lump forming in his throat. 
God, how much you wanted to just pretend like the last several months didn't happen and wrap your arms around him in that moment, too. But you know you can't. You owed it to yourself to see this through with Peter. It was time to put yourself first. "Well...I can't..." 
Miguel shakes his head, cutting you off. "I don't wanna hear it...sorry." Miguel sighs. 
You nod, understanding that every word that came from your mouth would just be a dagger to him. You stand there with him in uncomfortable silence. 
Miguel thinks deeply for several more moments, then speaks, "Maybe one day, we could work towards that..." 
In his mind he knows damn well he's not referring to being just friends. He's smart enough to know that if he truly wants to win you back, he'll cut his loss and remain civil and friendly. Then, and maybe just then, this little "fling" you have going on with Parker will fizzle out and he'll be there, ready to catch you. 
You look at Miguel, a little surprised at his change in demeanor but you welcome it, happy that things don't need to remain bitter between you.
"Absolutely..." You hold your hand out to him, a friendly truce. "We're good?" 
Miguel nods. "Good..." He echos. 
You two shake hands and your lips part slightly at the warmth of his palm and how tightly he wraps his fingers around yours. The corner of Miguel's mouth twitches upwards ever so slightly as he pulls you closer to him, a little bait and switch behind this supposedly platonic handshake. 
You're helpless, drowning in the ruby waters of his eyes, the oceanic atmosphere making him all the more tempting. 
He's helpless too, a situation he was trying to avoid altogether but he put himself in it anyway. He'd put up with seeing you all over Peter if it meant you'd still be within arm's reach. He'd be the broom and dustpan for you at a moment's notice the moment Peter carelessly dropped your heart. There was a good chance it would happen since he knew Peter was as stuck on MJ as he was on you. 
Felicia calls for you, and your intimate moment is interrupted, Miguel stifling a sigh of defeat as you whip your head in her direction. You start walking back rapidly towards the bonfire, picking up the pace when you see Felicia is frantic, the cameraman struggling to keep up with you. 
"It's Jess..." Felicia huffs, out of breath. "She's sick, we gotta go make sure she's okay... there's an ambulance here and everything!" 
Your heart drops to your stomach and you look at Miguel, also worried at the sudden change of events, hoping all is well. 
You three scurry towards the resort entrance, but the ambulance is already pulling away. Ben is hanging his head grimly, walking towards you, Felicia, and Miguel. "She's gone to the hospital, Noir is with her..." 
You bring a hand over your mouth in shock. Felicia lets out a soft whimper in sadness for her friend. Ben wraps Felicia into a hug. Miguel looks at you with worried eyes, going to place his hand on your shoulder in consolation but he freezes when he sees Peter approaching. 
"Hey, you..." 
"Oh!" You're caught a little off guard when Peter sweeps you into an embrace, Miguel turning around in the opposite direction. You close your eyes and relax, wrapping your arms around Peter's waist. "Will she be okay?" 
Peter looks at you, carefully brushing hair out of your eyes. "I think so...don't worry, she's at the hospital getting the best care in the world." 
You nod and smile, looking up at him. The group stands around for a bit, murmuring in confusion, Miguel awkwardly on his own, trying not to make eye contact with you as he paces in place. 
The host, Jason Donner, speaks in a voiceover: 
"Next time, on Singles in Paradise..."
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Felicia runs across the wooden bridge connecting the resort bungalows, nearly tripping into the shiny swimming pools on either side of the walkway. 
"New arrival! New arrival! Wake the fuck up! There's a new arrival!" 
You and Miguel are sipping smoothies in the common area, awkwardly sitting on opposite sides of the couch when Felicia runs in, huffing and puffing... "New girl...just arrived..." 
Before you can ask who or what, Felicia's already disappeared leaving both you and Miguel puzzled. 
A small brunette walks in. Her hair is in a bob cut with fiery blue eyes. She has a pearly white smile and a stringy pink bikini. You get a rotten feeling in your stomach. 
"Dana?" Miguel asks. His eyebrows raising in surprise. 
Why the fuck did it have to be Dana...she was one of the villains during Miguel's season. She was eliminated probably only on week 3 but she was AWFUL. Just plain rude. She would smile sweetly and ask the other women where they got their outfit only for her to say it was the ugliest fucking outfit she ever saw in her camera confessionals.
Boasting loudly how she'd gladly fuck Gabriel if she ever had the chance, making you and the rest of the women in the house totally uncomfortable. The complete opposite of a girl's girl. A real pick me. 
She waltzes up to Miguel, completely ignoring you, a date card in her hand. "Miguel! Wanna go chat?" 
No....
Miguel looks bewildered but he smiles politely, nodding as he stands up. She takes his arm, looking up at him with doe eyes as they walk away. Miguel glances at you then looks straight ahead. 
Jealousy sinks its fangs into your neck once more...
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@miguelhugger2099 @kodo1221,@mimiemie @laysmt @cheerrioeoz @spicydonut25 @thisistotesnotspam-heart , @famouscattail @thekidscallmebosss @librababe99 @ce3stvu @irishbl0ss0mz @nommingonfood @mauvecherie-writes @royale-skeleton-key @thesilenthill @dimitri-needs-therapy @a-lil-whore @aisyakirmann @sylveon-of-heart @hobiebrowns-wife @weirdothatwritess @reader-1290 @thesmutconnoisseur @koyukilove
@hardlystrictlystarwars @lareinamorgan @serpentineaerodynamics
@envyjmoney @clementines-valt @the-pan-liquid
@stellasloth @migueloharasoulmate , @cynwing
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The Pevensie kids are otherwordly in more ways than the naked eye reveals.
For starters, with all the years they have spent around great cats, they are absolutely silent when they walk. They can stalk and prowl like no one's business, and once, when a girl pissed off Lucy, she showed her her teeth.
When a shrink asks her why she is scared of cats, so many years later , she remembers the white flash in the schoolyard, the sudden certainty of death.
Second of all, they don't seem to leave footprints in snow. In the winters of Narnia, magic was all around Cair Paravel, benign spirits showing them how to leave no traces, go unseen in the great white. Some swear they move without touching the earth. No one is sure enough to rebutt them.
The Pevensies are unbeatable in snowball fights. Especially Susan can throw like a honkball pitcher, able to single out and pick off targets that should be out of reach.
When the boys drink alcohol for the first time, at ages 17 and 15, they turn out to have great tolerance, something no one their age should have. Yet Peter and Edmund can beat anyone in a drinking game. Narnian spirits were strong (pun intented), so they do not find this feat particularly challenging. And no one understands how Susan puts away bottles and bottles of wine without ever slurring her words or losing her razor sharp mind.
The boys that keep pouring her more wine, hoping to take her home drunk, leave disappointed every night. Susan knows what's up. She's been forced to sit through boring diplomatic dinners with alcohol as her only interesting companion, is used to men trying to take advantage when she drinks. She will not be tricked by school boys.
They have a tolerance for other substances, too.
When someone gets the bright idea to roofie Lucy at age 16, he ends up with a nail through his foot, hanging from the highest tree in London.
Lucy shows up the next day with dirt under her nails and a hammer in her backpack. The teachers take one look at Peter, who stares back with a glare that could refreeze Narnia, and decide not to say a word.
They're all insanely strong swimmers. Susan won prizes before, but now she's breaking records. Edmund saves a man twice his weight from drowing, dragging him along across a cold lake for half a mile.
No one understands how the scrawny, 5"9 kid pulled that off. Or how he manages to hold his breath for so long.
And then there is the question of their minds.
Suddenly, Edmund can beat even the most experienced men in chess. He goes on to become champion of the region and then of the whole of England.
Peter, once a mediocre student, is now a stunningly good writer. When his professor reads his essay for Ethics, he weeps, something that has never happened before. Many see a future in academia for him.
Susan becomes known as the best problem solver in school. She's able to resolve many conflicts, not in the least because she's so attractive men stop thinking about fighting the second she steps into a room. But underneath the beauty resides a smooth operator. Her professors don't doubt for a second she'll be a brilliant politician.
Lucy no longer has the child like innocence from before the war. Her sense of wonder never left her, though. The centaurs have taught her astronomy, and looking at the stars reminds her of Narnia, one of the few things that are the same. The boarding school telescope goes missing an awful lot, as does she. Often, her brothers and sister come along, especially on bright nights. They never get caught.
They've changed. And they hold onto these pieces of Narnia, because it is all they have left.
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thebestofoneshots · 5 months
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: You'll get even... This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.
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Chapter 25: I’ll Get Even With You
Thursday, November 25th, 1976
The boys had walked you through their plan step by step, it wasn’t going to be easy, and it required a lot of technical skill to be performed, but it wasn’t impossible. You gave them a few suggestions here and there, you yourself had already been pondering different revenge ideas in your head and together you managed to come up with a rather elaborate but hopefully foolproof plan. 
Remus and you would work on the potions since you were best at them, and you would prepare them that very night, since, as Sirius said “There is no time to lose, we need to strike and we need to strike fast. They must know it’s retaliation for what they did.” 
James and Sirius would be in charge of charms, spells and hexes, and Peter would do recognizance, making sure the coasts were clear before you snuck inside the Slytherin common room to prepare every single one of the things you had in store. 
The planning job they had executed so far was truly astounding, and if this level of meticulous preparation was standard for all their pranks, it was no wonder they were renowned for their incredible feats. Clearly, this wasn't just some fleeting idea that had occurred to them in the shower; it had been meticulously crafted. It bordered on madness and teetered on the edge of hazardous. The exhaustive list of steps might have deterred even the bravest Gryffindor, and yet, despite all these elements, there was an undeniable thrill to it, an unmistakable, electrifying excitement that pulsed through every aspect of the plan. 
As you looked at the list of steps, you marked all the things that you’d be doing, you had to memorise it and burn the page after. You had to leave “no evidence,” Peter had whispered. 
One time he had been caught with one of the plans and everyone had been put in detention for an entire month, from that moment on, they had made one of the key steps of all of their plans to memorise everything. You thought it made sense and started to drill all the steps in your mind, even the ones that didn’t concern you, just in case. 
By midday, and as you were walking alongside the boys towards Magical Theory, you had already memorised and burned the parchment the boys had given you. James, Sirius and Remus had their heads so close together as they were whispering about. Peter was right in front of them, he decided he’d walk all the way to your class even if he had to be late to his own.  And you? You were right in the middle of them all. Sirius had grabbed you by your good arm and pulled you in closer gently so you could be part of the conversation. 
It was weird, to be in the planning rather than just a spectator from the side, giving them enough space to discuss their things as you always had. But not anymore, even Peter had been welcoming and willing to let you in on absolutely every single detail of the plan. Yes, it might have been a little different, but it was definitely the good kind of different, you liked being a part of it. Even more now, since it was your own little revenge. 
Of course, you wouldn’t do something that would really harm the Slytherins, not like they had done to you at least. You were aware neither of them knew about Remus, so when they threw you in the Shrieking Shack, they really had attempted nothing more than to give you the hell scare of your life. “The most haunted house in England”, one of them had said. 
The only person that actually knew about Moony was Severus, and even if he had been a total asshole, he had also gone and told Lily about it, which had ultimately saved your life, since she had been the one to tell the boys. Either way, he could have also stopped them from being stupid and suggested a different thing, but he did not, so the fact that you had almost gotten bitten by Moony was also his fault. Which was exactly why he wouldn’t get scot-free either.
Even if the Shrieking Shack had actually just been a haunted house, the worst thing they had done, would have been the fact that they pushed you around, hexed you a couple of times, manhandled and threatened you, which is nothing they wouldn’t have done in the school, so you all had to carefully plan something that held the perfect balance. 
The prank couldn’t be too dark or harmful, just enough to teach them a lesson, so that they learned that throwing people in haunted houses and attempting to scare this shit out of one of them was a dreadful thing to do.  Which is why your prank had mainly consisted of something of the same nature. 
“So you’ll talk to him about it?” Peter asked. 
“Yes, I think I can convince him.” 
“You sure?” James asked, “It’s pivotal for the plan that we get help from one of the–” 
“–Yes, I’m sure. Most of them already know what happened, Myrtle ran her mouth through their own little circle.” 
“Thought you were friends with her,” Peter said. 
“I’m as much of her friend as you can be,” you said with a shrug “but only the close circle knows, and I asked her earlier today to give him a message, I’ll meet him later near the Perfect Bathrooms, I’ve heard they’re empty rather often.” 
“You can meet him inside if you want, I’ll give you the password,” Remus offered. 
“She can’t meet him inside the bathrooms, it’d be inappropriate!” Peter argued. 
“How would it be inappropriate Wormmy?”
“Well you know, people might talk and…” 
“As if Myrtle didn’t spend half the time there too,” Remus huffed.
“But that’s–“ 
“Hold up! How do you know Myrtle spends half the time there?” you asked, looking at Remus in disbelief. 
“Well, I’ve seen her there, plenty of times, logically.” 
“While… bathing?” you asked again, rather hesitant. 
“She can be very meddlesome, yeah.” 
“And she’s never told me?!” 
“Didn’t you say you weren’t that close?” Sirius said, arching an eyebrow. 
You weren’t really listening “Oh Godric! The gossip she must have seen in those bathrooms.” 
Remus turned to you now “What do you think happens in those bathrooms?” 
“What do you think doesn’t? Unsupervised, private bathrooms the older students have access to?” 
“Oh…” Remus said in realisation. 
Sirius nodded “Yeah, I can confirm things happen there,” he said casually. You gasped and swatted him in the side, it was as if he had forgotten he was talking to his girlfriend with whom he had not gone to the bathrooms… yet. “From hearing about it,” he clarified, at least an octave higher as he rubbed the section you had hit him on. Drama queen, you thought, didn’t even hit him half hard. 
“So… you want the password?”
You thought about it for a second “Yeah… I guess it comes in handy, just in case…” you said. Sirius gave you a suggestive look. 
“Ugh mate, at least try and keep it in your pants!” James said, pushing Sirius to the side, causing you to tumble against Remus’ chest, who held you in place and arched an eyebrow as he looked at you from his higher stance, he seemed amused. 
“For the prank!” you clarified as if it were obvious. 
Remus nodded, the same amused look as earlier, Godric was it fun to tease you, even if the reason you were getting red for was Sirius and not himself. You were blushing, becoming shyer the wider he smirked. You pushed yourself off him, which had his little smile falter even if it was just for a second. “If you boys keep being gross about this whole thing I’ll just go hang out with Lily instead.” 
“You can’t, we’ve got class together,” James said, placing his arm over your shoulder “and whether you like it or not, you’re my partner.” You gave an exaggerated groan in response, tilting your head back just a little to make it seem more dramatic. “Oi! I’m not that bad!” 
“You talk about Lily all the time, and since your date is on Saturday I can’t imagine how much you will–“ 
“–Righ! you need to help me with the planning of that too!” He said taking his arm off your shoulder and turning to you excitedly. 
“But that plan is already done…” 
“But what will I say if–“ 
Sirius came over now, placing his arms over your shoulder “Mate, if you need her to tell you what to do in every single situation, why not let her go on the date with Lily instead?” 
“She’s your girlfriend!” James said scandalised. 
“Wouldn’t mind sharing her with Evans,” Sirius responded with a shrug which had you laughing, “she’s nice, they’d make a hot couple, actually,” the boy added, just to see James’ reaction. 
“Don’t you dare come seduce my future wife!” he said, turning to you with a threatening finger and in a playful tone. 
“As much as I’m into redheads, Lilly is most definitely just a friend,” you responded. 
“What do you mean you’re into redheads?” Sirius asked, turning to you a little shocked. 
You just shugged, “Red hair is really pretty…” 
“But I… I thought that… You said I was your type!” 
You shook your head with a teasing smile “You said you were my type Puppy.” 
Sirius seemed taken aback, but that was right, he really had been the one to say that Remus wasn’t your type because he was, you could practically see the gears turning in his head as his confident expression faltered, which had you suppress a giggle “So you like redheads then?” he said a little defensively “next thing I know you’ll come around telling me you’re also into sexy werewolves.” 
Remus almost choked on the piece of chocolate he was munching, but he played it off with a cough, you just gave Sirius a diverted look “Puppy,” you said with a raised eyebrow “Are you jealous ‘cause I said I’m into redheads?” 
“Of course not,” he said, “Why don’t you go and flirt with one of the Weaslys then?” 
You just laughed, you had no idea who the hell he was talking about since Arthur had graduated a couple of years before you even got into the school, and his younger brother was in 2nd (you had yet to meet him). “Sirius,” you said, calling his attention by leaning in to whisper in his ear “I might be into redheads, but I still like you better than any of ‘em.” 
Sirius almost went red, for a second, but got back on his feet faster than he faltered, and turned to you with a smirk “Well of course you do Starshine,” he said cockily, “After all you’ve got the hottest boyfriend in the entire school.” 
You, along with the boys, laughed at Sirius’ antiques. But she really does, Remus thought as he chuckled and extended his hand with the chocolate towards you, you took a square and bit half of it off before feeding the rest to Sirius. Remus swallowed, wondering if he could be happy with this. With just being a part of it by sticking to the two of you like he was doing then. He wondered if he would be able to survive the heartache whenever he was consumed by greed and desire to have one of you. Whenever he felt like he had to stop being a spectator and take part in the story instead. He shook that thought off his head, he had to focus on the prank now, that was the priority. 
Once near the classroom, Peter waved goodbye, walking to his class while you entered yours. You and James sat behind Sirius and Remus, and while you did attempt to work on your project, in the end, you had spent most of the time going over the plan with James. He had it all perfectly memorised, and he was now telling you how Remus and Sirius would sneak into the library to get the book with the charms they’d be practising all night while you and Remus prepared the special potions you’d be using later that day. 
“So they’ll use the map to sneak in and…” 
“What map?” you asked “Did Remus make more maps for the rest of the passages?”
“Oh well…” James seemed at a loss of words, then leaned down to talk to the boys, you arched an eyebrow, but watched as they whispered about. “Can we tell Vixen about the map?” 
“Yeah, she’ll see it when we go make the potions anyway,” Remus said. 
“I trust her,” Sirius said with a shrug. 
“Of course you do tosser, she’s your girlfriend,” James said with an eye roll “I trust her too, but what about Peter?” 
“I don’t think he’ll mind…” Remus said. 
“You don’t?!” Sirius asked, “He can be touchy as hell sometimes.” 
“But he likes her,” James added, more convincing himself than the rest, “I’ll tell her about it.” 
Finally, you leaned in, having your head almost bump into Remus’ who was sitting in front of you “Tell me about what?” you asked teasingly. 
Remus smiled, “Oh you’ll see,” he responded mischievously “I’ll tell you all about it later.” 
“Mr. Potter, and company,” you heard the voice of the teacher booming in your direction. “Would you mind telling me what’s so important that Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black have to say that you’re not focusing on your work instead?” 
“Sorry Professor,” you apologised. “I was just asking Remus about a particular charm he’s really good at, and we need to use it for our project. James was trying to listen in since both of us will be performing it and Sirius was just trying to help us out as well,” then you flashed the most charming and apologetic smile you could muster. 
“Well then, you should have told me earlier,” he said “Why don’t you guys move your chairs around so you can focus on your conversation better, instead of leaning down over your desks like that?” 
“That would be delightful! Thank you, Professor,” you said with another smile as motioned for Remus and Sirius to stand up as you flicked your want to move their chairs towards you.
“Ugh, you really need to teach me your ways,” Sirius said as he stared at you “I swear I’m charming but… he would’ve eaten me up had I tried something like that.” 
You looked over at the Professor, at the way he held himself “Nah, I’m sure you would’ve convinced him with one of those flashy smiles of yours,” you said with a shrug, “Even James would have convinced him.” 
“Way to leave Moony out,” the boy said with a low whistle that earned him a kick from Sirius, for making so much noise. 
“Thought it was obvious, Remus would’ve convinced him before I even attempted to do it, Professors love him to dеath.” 
“What?! that’s not–“ Remus started. 
Sirius and James interrupted him “Yes it is!” 
In the end, you went over the steps of the plan one more time before you went back to working on your actual class projects. You and James ended up working on the night vision glasses and because of how useful they could be, both of you started digging through books to try and figure out if you could actually finish them before the prank. 
Eventually, you did find a spell that could work, and while you were drawing a bunch of runes on the wooden table, James was writing down a copy of the spell on a piece of paper so the two of you could enchant the object at the same time. 
Both Remus and Sirius were impressed with how fast and in tandem you were working, as if you really had known each other for longer than you had. It was easy to forget how freaking brilliant James was while he was cracking jokes half the time, but he was as much of a genius as the rest of the boys, even if each of them had their thing. The class finished, and since you had lunch, neither you nor the boys worried too much about leaving the classroom as you continued working on your spell. 
That was until Lily showed up near the door “There you are!” She said once she spotted you “I was looking for you, time to change your bandages!” She said pulling a roll-out of her bag “We’ve got like 30 minutes before Defence Against the Dark Arts–” 
Your eyes opened wide, “–30 minutes?!” you asked shocked and turned to the clock “fuck, I’m supposed to be in the bathrooms with Richie,” you said as you stood up and placed your robes around your shoulders to then start unbuttoning the shirt, your back facing the boys.
Lilly took off her own robes and levitated them around you to give you more room to move around as her robes covered you while you took off your shirt, “Why do you need to see Richard near the bathrooms?” She asked. 
“It’s confidential!” James said before you even had a chance to open your mouth. 
“Yeah darling, don’t tell the beautiful redhead, no matter how tempting,” Sirius teased right after. 
You rolled your eyes and Lily arched one of her eyebrows “What’s that about?” She asked as she opened the roll and took out a small pot with her cream, you were unwrapping the older bandages while at it so that you could both end faster and you could run off to see Richie before he got too angry. 
“I accidentally told Sirius I was into redheads,” you said with a shrug “he probably won’t stop teasing me about it.”
“Oh,” she said surprised, taking the bandage you were unrolling with her own hands and helping you with it “Didn’t know you were into redheads…” she said casually “Would you mind if I tease Sirius about it?” 
“Not at all,” you said, “be my guest,” you smiled complicitly. 
“Oh wow,” she said as she looked at your injury “You heal fast,” she said surprised. 
You turned towards it, and she was right, while the wound wasn’t completely healed, it was significantly better than it had been the day before, let alone today in the morning when you were crying as you tried to cure it in the Room of Requirements. Perhaps the piercing paste you had somehow mustered up in the morning did something good in the end, even if it had hurt a hell lot while doing it. Either that or it was something else, either way, you were just happy it was looking better, if it went on like that, you might just be able to convince James to let you play on Sunday. 
“Ready for your date on Saturday?” you whispered, you could tell there was a slight blush creeping up her neck.
“That bastard is lucky I said yes, I don’t even know how exactly he convinced me,” she muttered. 
I do, you thought as you remembered the glass of punch she had in her hands at the party, “No idea, perhaps you just were really happy,” either way, it’s not like the euphoria potion made you do anything you didn’t want to, in fact, I’d go as far as to say it was like liquid courage. Of course, Remus wouldn’t agree with that opinion, or perhaps it did give him some courage, for the first five minutes or something.
“Yeah, I did feel quite happy,” Lily agreed. “It was really nice to hang out with James while taking the pictures, I guess I really hadn’t given him a chance before that.” She said as she dabbed the wound with her much more reliving paste. You would have cried from relief if it wasn’t because she’d asked you why you were crying. 
You were taking deep, slow breaths when you heard Sirius’ voice from behind Lily’s cloak “Hey luv, we’ll pick up some lunch for you so you can take your time with Richie, all right?” 
You nodded and then shook your head when you remembered he couldn’t see you “Yes, save me some sausages, will you?” 
“Whose sausages?” James teased. 
“Ugh, don’t be so gross Potter!” Lily responded “And to think I agreed to go on a date with him,” she muttered to herself. 
“I’m sorry my love,” he said in return “did not mean to upset you.” 
Lily just rolled her eyes “Get the poor girl her sausages and stop being annoying then.” You snickered as you heard Lily’s bickering and she gave you a look, you raised your free hand in surrender. A couple of minutes later she was done wrapping the bandage. “There you are darling,” she said with a smile. 
“Thanks,” you said with a smile “You’re the best.” 
Lily just smiled “Want me to come with?” she asked as she motioned to the door and you rushed to put your shirt and sweater on. 
You shook your head “It’s all right, I can deal with him. Besides, it’s kind of confidential.” 
Lily arched her eyebrows “Really? You’re not telling me what this is all about?” 
“Trust me, you’re better off like this, you’ll have plausible deniability,” you said with a smile as you finished accommodating your shirt. 
Lily was staring at you shocked as you walked to the door “What do you– (Y/N)! You can’t be working on a prank with them–“ she said as she followed behind, pulling her own robe that was still suspended in the air as she picked up her pace. “(Y/N)!” She whined when she realised just how far down one of the halls you already were. 
“Plausible deniability Lily,” you shouted from the end of the hall “Plausible deniability, trust me!” you repeated with a smile before turning in one of the corners, speeding through the halls to reach all the way to the outside of the Prefect Bathrooms, thankfully they weren’t that far off. 
After some more running you finally made it to the bathrooms, Richard Jackdaw was already there, looking a little annoyed as stared at you, as if you had him wait for too long. 
“Sorry I’m late,” you said, panting. “I got stuck in a class and then they had to change my bandages because, well, Myrtle mentioned it, didn’t she?” 
“That Barty and his gang threw you into the Shrieking Shack because you invited us to the Halloween Party?” he asked, “yeah I’ve heard… You know I had never been invited to a party before, at least not since I became a ghost a couple hundred years ago, and Myrtle, well, I’m sure she hadn’t been invited to one even when she was alive.”  
You tried not to cringe at his words, Richard could sometimes be a little bit of a boastful prick, but he was nice enough to hang around, and he had lots of interesting stories to tell, which is probably why you enjoyed hanging out with him and some of the other ghosts as much as you did. And you couldn’t blame him for his impression of Myrtle, since you had a very similar impression of her. 
“So… why am I here? Revenge, I assume.” 
You smiled, it was nice to know Richie and you were on the same page, you nodded “I want to pay them back in equal proportion,” you said with a smile. 
Richie arched an eyebrow, floating a little closer to the floor to see you eye to eye “Did ghosts really scare you in the Shack?” he asked with what you could only classify as curiosity “I know of no ghosts in there… And you aren’t particularly scared by us either…” 
You shook your head “There are no ghosts in the shack,” you confirmed, “but it is haunted by something else.” 
Richard pulled back, clearly interested in the story that you had to tell, the only thing was, that you wouldn’t tell any story, not today, possibly not ever… “And..?” he asked. 
“And nothing, the thing there did give me a hell of a scare, I almost died and everything,” you said casually “Got scratched up too–“ 
“–Yeah, Myrtle mentioned that one, she also said something about Mulciber being bedridden because of you.” 
You smiled proudly at that “Yeah, so I’ve been told,” you said “It was just Oppugno, but I guessed something funny must have gotten to him,”  you said with a shrug. 
“Aren’t you in 6th? Oppugno is a 7th year spell, I believe…” 
“It is, I’ve been reading ahead a good bit,” you said cockily “but talking about my small little success there, is not why I’ve requested to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I figured,” he said haughtily “So then, tell me, what’s the plan?” 
“Well, I know you’re a member of the Headless Hunt,” you started, Richard arched an eyebrow as he leaned in one of the statues, “And I did mention payback in the same propor–“ 
“–Shhh…” he said as he placed a transparent hand close to your mouth and looked around “fuck,” he added as he fixated his head on one of the corners “Quick, rub the head of the toad!” he pointed at a statue. 
“Excuse me?” you asked with a frown. 
“Someone’s approaching, hurry!” He added you did as told, leaning closer to the statue and passing your hand over the large toad’s head. In a matter of seconds, the mouth of the frog opened wide and swallowed you whole. You ended up rolling on the floor and coughing a couple of times as you tried to figure out where you had ended up. 
Seconds later you saw Richard float through the wall “You all right?” he asked you “Didn’t hurt your arm, did it?” 
You shook your head, almost surprised at his concern, most of the time Richard was too stuck up to care for anyone else but his ghostly self, or perhaps that was merely a façade and you were finally looking at the real Richard Jackdow, either way, you already knew he was friendly enough to be willing to talk to the new girl, so you held him in relatively high regards. 
You nodded, he offered you his hand to get up but quickly pulled it back, as if it was hard for him to remember he wasn’t alive anymore. It was a rather interesting phenomenon, you thought since most ghosts still had a hard time remembering their capabilities as dеad people even if they had been ghosts for far longer than they had been alive. Myrtle, for example, hated it when books were thrown in her direction, even if she actually couldn’t feel them. 
You gave him a tight apologetic smile as you stood up, dusting your robes as you looked around “You’ve brought me to your Secret hideout, then… Who was outside?”
“Spellman and Nightshade,” he said “We don’t want them to think we’re plotting something, do we?”  
You smiled and shook your head, looking at the small table in the centre of the room, placing your hands on it and leaning in just a little to test if it was sturdy enough to hold your weight, naturally you used your good arm to avoid hurting the other one further. When it proved it was, you turned around and gave a small jump to sit over it, legs dangling a little as you stared at the boy, ghost with a smile “We certainly don’t, thanks for the heads up…” you said, trailing off at the end, realising how it could’ve been offensive only after you had spoken. Richie gave you an amused look, “sorry…” 
He just laughed, “You’re probably the only living person I’d let make head-related jokes without retaliation,” he informed. “But don’t you dare tell anyone about it!” 
“I would never…” you said with a smile “Consider it our little tête-à-tête secret.” 
Richard chuckled, shaking his head as he did, you were certainly a funny one, no wonder the entire school was so fascinated with the new girl “Don’t push your luck…” 
You just smiled, and leaned your head to the side “Will you ever tell me the story of how it happened?” you asked, since you’d been rather curious about it, but knew most ghosts didn’t really enjoy talking about their last moments alive. 
“I told someone once a few hundreds of years ago, they finished what I started,” he said “But that’s a story for another day, all thought they remind me of you a little.” 
You raised an eyebrow with a small grin “Did you also let them make head puns?” 
Richard hummed and shook his head “Privilege is reserved for you sweetheart,” he said with a wink. 
“Don’t sweetheart me,” you retorted with a smile. 
“You don’t mind when Remus does it.” 
“Well that’s–“ 
“You’re wasting my time luv,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, “What do you need me to do?” 
“The headless hunt,” you said. He hummed. “I need you to talk to them, and convince them to help us out.” 
He tilted his head “Won’t be an easy feat.”
“That’s the reason I came to you Ricchie, I know you can be very convincing.” 
He hummed again, leaning back a little as he stared at you “And then what? I doubt the Slytherins would be much too scared by the headless hunt, most of them are pure-bIood wizards anyway.” 
You started explaining all the details of the plan to him, his grin grew wider as you went through the potions and charms you’d be using, “You could add some spider venom essence to increase the sensation of crawling skin,” he offered, it had you raise your eyebrows and turn to him with newfound interest, he smirked “I was brilliant in potions when I was alive, that’s how I ended up working with Olivanders, helped whim with the extraction of ingredients.” 
“So now I know who to bother when I need potion-related advice,” you teased. 
He chuckled “Don’t make it a habit,” he retorted “By the way, do you not have class now?”
You looked around to try and find a clock in the old room, but there was none “Shit… I– Do you happen to know the time?” 
He laughed, “I’m dеad, not all-knowing.” 
You rolled your eyes, but nodded, finally jumping off the table “Thanks for helping me out with this, and for showing me your secret little hideout, clearly no one has been here in years.” 
“They haven’t indeed, I used to bring Anne and Apollonia to hook up here,” he said with a shrug. 
“You brought me to your hook-up hiding spot?!” you asked with a gasp.
He chuckled “Why? You bothered?” 
You looked around, aside from the dust and spiderwebs, it seemed clean enough “No… Can I use it?” you said casually, turning back to him. 
He raised an eyebrow “Which of your boyfriends will you bring here?” he asked. 
“I’ve only got one of those,” you dеadpanned. 
He smirked, “You keep telling yourself that, little one.” 
You rolled your eyes “So.. Can I?” 
He shrugged, “Leave a sock by the door at least.” 
You scoffed, diverted “It’s not going to be to hook up! it’s a perfect hideout to plan things… or even to prepare potions…” 
“Oh you’re definitely bringing one of your boyfriends here,” he said “Just don’t forget the socks.” 
“I swear, one can’t have close friends these days without everyone assuming shit.” 
“Or maybe you’re just that oblivious,” he whispered as he started to leave through a wall. 
“Hey! Wait! how the hell do I get out?” you asked. 
“You’re clever enough to figure it out,” he said with a laugh before disappearing. Freakin Richie! He left you locked up in the damn hook-up room. You looked around, the walls were wrapped with large thick bookshelves and a couple hundred books and other trinkets. There was a cauldron near the corner, along with some crystal vases, and a small cupboard with what looked like dried potion ingredients. It really was the perfect place to brew the potions once you’d gotten the ingredients from Slughorn’s office. The only issue left was getting out of it. 
There was no door, or anything that resembled one either. There wasn’t another identical statue either, so leaving the exact same way you had gotten in, was not an option. You took a deep breath and continued to look around, analysing the entire place again. There were more and more books, everywhere you looked. Some of them were in fact potion books, and they had some of the library symbols, which meant either Richie or someone before him had been the one to take them there. You grabbed one of them and started flipping through the pages when something caught your eye, there was a small frog carved into the side of one of the bookshelves. 
You left the book on the table without sparing it a second glance and reached the bookshelf in two strides, leaning down, you realised that there was a section that you could press, you smiled, leaning into the wall to try and hear if there was anyone outside. When you were sure there wasn’t you took a deep breath, brazing yourself for what was to come. 
Finally, you pressed the head of the frog, in a matter of seconds you were outside, this time you managed to land on your knees and quickly pretended you were tying your shoelaces as you looked around, trying to make sure no one had seen you. When you were sure the coast was clear, you stood up, and turned to the clock at the end of the hallway. You were fucking late. 
You didn’t think twice, speed walking towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom. The door was open and lots of people were gathered around two long tables, you instantly knew what was happening, you knew the arrangement, you’d seen it before… in the duelling club.
You took a deep breath and waited till most people had turned around to sneak inside as fast as possible, you were walking straight towards the girls when you felt a hand on your shoulder “Lovely to see you decided to grace us with your presence darling,” you froze dеad in your tracks, that was Professor Nightshade's melodic voice.
You turned around with an apologetic smile, ignoring the pang on your arm as she accidentally brushed your shoulder wound. “I’m sorry Professor,” you said “I’ve been feeling a little off lately, I’m aware I’ve missed a couple of classes, and duelling club but I–”
“–don’t need to hear your explanations,” she said with a smile, you weren’t exactly sure if she was being kind or hostile about it “We were just about to start a new duel, we were looking for a second volunteer, would you care to do it?” Remus, who was standing a couple of metres behind tensed up, trying to give you a warning, but you didn’t notice, you were too enthralled by Nightshade’s stare. 
“Uhh… yeah sure,” you said as you dug your pockets to bring your wand out. Finally, you noticed Lily facepalming herself on the side which had you frown. You turned around, to look at the spot on the table to which you’d have to climb to, and you instantly knew why she had done it. 
On the other side of the long table, looking as pleased with himself as it gets, was Evan Rosier. You looked at him, keeping your expression as neutral as you could. And walked over to the table, Professor Nightshade elegantly offered you her hand so you could lean on it as you gave the rather tall jump, and you took it with a small smile, even if you were gritting your teeth as you got backlash from leaning on your wounded arm. 
Seraphina had no idea you were hurt, so even if she was hurting you she was doing it unwittingly. You saw James cringe as she grabbed onto your arm to help you up, but neither he nor anyone else could interfere. Once you were up there, you tightened your grip on your wand as you stared ahead. Last time you’d faced the boy he’d been in advantage, he had gotten you from behind, by surprise and he was a lot stronger than you were. That without even mentioning how it had been a 4 against one situation. 
This time it was different, there was no room to play dirty,  Nightshade was there and she wouldn’t allow it, you wouldn’t say you were particularly in advantage. Evan was a very talented wizard, you knew that much, but you were even, and that was enough for you to feel the adrenaline start pulsing through your veins. You’d get the chance to redeem yourself. You’d prove that you weren’t actually weak.  
“Backs to each other,” you heard Nightshade order, both you and Evan did as told, “I’ll count to five, and you’ll step away from each other that same amount of steps, when I’m done, you may turn around and start the duel, Understood?” 
You nodded and noticed from the corner of your eyes that Lily was gripping James’ arm with a nervous grip, the boy himself seemed tense, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the way Lily was clinging onto him or because he was just as worried for you as she was, probably both. 
“One,” NIghtshade said, both you and Evan gave a step in the opposite direction, you realised Peter had a tight grip on his own wand, and was darting his eyes rapidly between you and just behind you, he was looking at Evan, you realised. “Two.” You took another step. 
Remus could see Sirius tensing up, the boy was breathing slow and steady and had his eyes glued to Evan. He took a step towards his friend, and placed a hand over his shoulder, attempting to make it look like a friendly gesture as if not to call too much attention. Not that people were staring, no, they were all too busy staring at you and Evan. It’s not that the entire class knew of the rivalry between the two, but most people knew about the time you had hit Barty with the quaffle and they knew Barty and Evan were best friends. They had also seen your hostile behaviour towards each other, and with all the attention you were getting because of quidditch, you weren’t exactly one to blend in the back. 
Even if not everyone in the classroom knew how far the rivalry went, they knew the duel they were about to witness would be one to remember. Especially since both you and Evan, were just as talented in charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts as each other. Had Nightshade paid a little closer attention, and not believed Slughorn when he said that you were on friendly terms with each other and made a fantastic team, maybe she would have realised what a terrible idea this was.  
“Three,” She said, you both took another step, widening the distance between the other. You took a deep breath, tightening your grip around your wand, Evan was most likely going to go straight for an attack, so you’d have to be ready to block it, “Four,” she said, and you took another step, you could feel the tension building, the entire class was silent. So silent it was as if they were holding their breath. 
Remus felt Sirius inch forward and he instantly tightened his grip on the other boy’s shoulder. Inching closer so that his chest was almost touching Sirius’ back. While Remus was just as tense as your boyfriend, he also knew how much more impulsive Sirius was, so he started to rub soft circles with his thumb near the boy’s shoulder blade, “She can take him,” he whispered reassuringly, his eyes glued on you as he spoke. 
Another moment of silence and then “Five.”
In a matter of seconds both you and Evan were facing each other, “stupefy,” he spat. 
“Protego,” you said just before his spell reached you, casting a light blue force field around you that instantly blocked his spell. Once the two spells crashed against each other you spoke again “expelliarmus.” 
“Excellent wand work, the both of you,” Seraphina said “Pay attention to her shield charm, she cast it right before Evan’s spell reached her, which makes the spell even stronger.” 
While she spoke, you and Evan continued launching spells at each other, but you both had wicked-fast reflexes and managed to counter most of them, which meant you were both increasingly using stronger and more complex charms and jinxes to try and get to the other. 
“Serpensortia,” the blond said, you paused for a moment to look at him while a very big snake approached you, it was a very basic spell, and you weren’t sure why Evan would use something like that against you, perhaps it’s a Slytherin thing, you thought.
“Flipendo,” you said pointing towards the snake, effectively pushing it back towards the boy, the snake had flown so fast, that it fell right over his shoulders. He hissed and pushed it to the side, having it fall over the head of a couple of other students. 
“Keep the spells on the table!” Nightshade reprimanded as several students sprung back, trying to get out of the way.
You turned to the side and pointed your wand at the snake “deletrious,” you said, the snake rolled on itself and disappeared, but the little distraction had given Evan an advantage.
“Diffindo,” the boy spat, you ducked, but the curse got your cheek either way, causing a small slash on it. You heard some people hiss, Remus had to basically glue Sirius to his chest to warn him not to step in. He knew the teacher would reprimand him, but even worse, he knew you’d be pissed if anyone stepped in at that point. 
You touched your face, with your free hand, seeing the bIood on your fingers as you turned your wand back to him, or more precisely to a point in the ground near his feet, “reducto,” you said, causing a small explosion on the table that caused Evan to jump back, giving you enough time to get back your own footing. 
Evan seemed to panic as you got up and pointed his wand at you “Confringo!” he said, you somehow managed to block the spell. 
“Rosier!” Nightshade reprimanded “That’s not a spell we–” 
“-Avis!” you responded, causing a swarm of birds to fly in Evan’s direction.
“Miss (Y/L/N)!” She started as well, but neither of you was paying much attention to her words at that point. 
“Expulso!” he spat, the birds all exploded into thin air “Incarcerus!” You blocked. 
“Petrificus totalus!” you said, but he jumped to the side, “Incarcerus!” 
“Impedimenta!” This time, you both got each other. 
You were moving in slow motion as he fought with chains that wrapped around his feet and arms. “Fini…” This was going to take a while, you realised. Evan was working around the ropes pretty fast. “…te incantatem…” you managed to say and got back on your feet only seconds before he shot another jinx that you managed to counter by a hair. 
He pointed his wand at your face “Reducto!” 
You blocked and shot the same spell, he blocked, “stupefy!” He blocked. “Exoelliarmus!” he blocked. He was blocking everything, you’d need something stronger to get him even as he was blocking. “Confringo!” you spat again, but Evan had been distracted by Nightshade who was still trying to end the duel and it got him. You gasped as the boy was shot back by a fiery explosion. You’d been expecting him to block, so you weren’t measuring the strength of the spell. 
Evan barely managed to sit as he reached the floor and started trying to put the fire on his robes off. “Relashio,” you said, launching a good deal of water over him. You had already won, he was on the floor, not on the table anymore, but he was pissed, everything stung and on top of that you had made him look like a wet rat with your stupid water spell. 
Evan pointed his wand at you “Furnu-“ he started.
“Expeliarmus!” Nightshade interrupted, taking Evan’s hand away from his hand “That’s enough!” she said sternly “The two of you are way out of line!” You swallowed, still looking at her. “Diffindo?! Confringo?! Are you two out of your damned minds?!” 
“Evan was the first one to–“ 
“–Silence!” she uttered, you bit your tongue, “I’ll take Mr. Rosier to the infirmary,” she informed “But we’ll be having a talk after dinner Miss (Y/L/N), not only because of the duel,” she added, and then turned to the rest of people “Class is cancelled everyone, you may go back to your daily tasks.” She then dragged Evan out of the classroom. 
There was a series of whispers and people started leaving the classroom, you were still standing over the table, slightly frozen when Lily reached for your hand and helped you down, she took a look at you, placing both hands on the sides of your head to check the cheek that Evan’s spell had gotten cut. James was there, looking at it over Lily’s shoulder, and he winced as the girl moved your head to the side to give it a closer look. The rest of your friends were fast approaching, you still hadn’t said a word.  
Sirius came to you with a huge smile, Remus trailing close behind you “Starshine!” your boyfriend said, trying to get your attention. Since your head was still being held by Lily’s hands, you just focused your eyes on him, he had a huge grin on his face “That was incredible luv!” he started. You didn’t have much of a reaction. “The way that you–“ 
“–Sirius,” Remus said, calmly, trying to get the boys’ attention, he had somehow gotten just in front of the longer-haired boy in a matter of seconds. 
“And then how you–“ 
“Sirius,” he called again. The boy finally turned to him, and saw the way Remus shook his head slowly. Sirius frowned, not quite getting what Moony wanted to say.
“He didn’t block,” you muttered. 
“What was that luv?” Lily asked, the boys’ attention all on you now. 
“I– I was expecting him to block… I didn’t mean to…” 
Sirius frowned “What?! But after the things they did–“ 
“What did they do?” Beth, who had just gotten there, asked. 
Sirius swallowed. “They threw them off their brooms while they were broom surfing,” Remus intervened. 
“You went broom surfing again?” James asked, in shock, Lily almost kicked him in the shin, “Because I thought–“ 
“He’s in the infirmary because of me,” you muttered again. That was not the plan, that was not how you’d get back at them. 
Yeah, you almost died because of him, I’d say you’re even, Sirius thought, but he didn’t voice it, the rest of your friends were gathering around. 
“Should we put something on your–“ Lily started. 
You shook your head “I’m fine.” 
The girl nodded, understanding that you needed some space to process everything that had gone down, especially because of how fast it had been.
“We should go to the common room,” Remus voiced from beside you, and then leaned a little closer, placing one of his hands on your back, a soft reassuring smile “We still have the food you asked for earlier.”
You looked at him, eyes a little unfocused at first, but eventually you nodded.  You all walked back to the common room together. Sirius had taken your hand in his, to try and give a reassuring squeeze, even if he wasn’t quite sure why you were so perturbed, since he thought the way Evan had ended up was well deserved. He’d seen the marks of his fingers on your neck and jaw, he’d seen the sheer stress you had been put into when they matched you with him in potions, in fact, he’d go as far as to say confringo, hadn’t been enough, but that might just be the Black in him. 
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A/N: So now we know exactly what they were looking at... Can we talk about those wolfstar interactions getting better and better? Gosh I love them so much I swear. Thoughts? Comments? What exactly could the prank be? Also, can you tell I really liked Richie from Hogwarts Legacy?
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literaryavenger · 5 months
Text
Heartbroken
Summary: Tony helps you through your first heartbreak.
Pairing: Dad!Tony Stark x Daughter!female!reader
Warnings: Fluff. Language cause why not. Reader is hurting. Tony is an angel. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 1.4K
A/N: I wanted some soft dad Tony and this came out. The end is a little rushed, I didn't know where I wanted it to go but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I hope you like it!
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You exited the elevator and made your way through the living room, not sparing anybody a second glance.
You went straight to your room and slammed the door behind you, leaving all of the avengers that were currently in the living room in a shocked silence.
That wasn’t like you.
You're a cheery and positive teenager that never misses a chance to hang out with your favorite group of superheroes.
Even during your bad days, you at least said hi and chat a bit before going to your room, so your behavior today as you came home from school leaves everyone worried.
They all know high school isn't easy, but it somehow never affected you much.
Maybe because you grew up in the spotlight, being a Stark.
You were the perfect combination of Pepper and Tony, smart and driven, sarcastic and confident, sweet and supportive. Really just a ray of sunshine in everyone’s life.
Everybody at Midtown High knows who you are and every student you meet gets surprised by how nice you are to anyone that approaches you, everyone expecting you to be a stuck up bitch.
You talk to and befriend anybody who’s nice to you, but you spend most of your time with Peter, Ned and MJ.
Speaking of which, while everybody stares at the door you just disappeared through, Peter enters the room through the window, a feat that not everyone is used to yet.
"Damn it, bug boy, stop doing that!" Sam almost yells, never failing to get startled by his abrupt entrances.
"Sorry, Mr. Falcon, sir." he says sheepishly while Bucky snickers like every other time, but before they can start bickering like always, Tony addresses Peter.
"What’s wrong with my daughter, Spider-ling?" he says in a serious tone, despite the nickname he can’t seem to get tired of.
"I don’t know, Mr. Stark. She was fine during lunch, but when school ended she was nowhere to be seen. We were suppose to meet at the exit like always but she rushed home alone. That’s why I’m here, I was worried." the more Peter talks the more Tony gets worried.
It wasn’t like you to not show up to do something you planned to do with someone else, let alone without giving a reason or at least a warning first.
Tony has heard enough so he gets up from his seat and walks towards your room, knocking twice, then once and then three times fast, a secret knock you came up with when you were little designed just for him.
He hears a faint ‘come in’ and, with furrowed eyebrows, he enters your room, finding you sitting on the bed hugging your knees to your chest.
Without saying a word he comes in, shuts the door and sits next to you, putting an arm around your shoulders. You shift to put your head in his chest and, when hug him as tightly as you can, Tony can actually feel his own heart breaking at the sight.
His little ray of sunshine, crying her heart and soul out and there's nothing more he can do but hold you. So he holds onto you just as tight as you are, willing himself not to let his own tears fall at seeing you so broken, needing to be strong for you.
After you calm down a bit, he can’t help himself as he asks "who do I have to kill?"
He feel a little better when he hears your little giggle against his chest, but he's still very worried and you both know he wasn’t entirely kidding.
He doesn’t rush you into talking, giving you time to put together your thoughts before starting to explain.
"I’ve been seeing someone..." you start, sitting up straight, sniffling, and he already doesn't like where this is going. "I’m sorry I haven’t said anything, mom knows though…"
"Of course she does." he mumbles, a little offended you would tell her and not him, and Tony Stark was never one to not voice his thoughts. "Why didn’t you tell me?" he was clearly hurt, pouting a bit just to amuse you. You giggle again as you answer.
"I’m sorry, but I know what you would’ve said: ‘You’re not allowed to date until you’re 65’" you try to imitate him with a deep voice that makes him chuckle.
"Damn right you can’t!" He says and you lighten up a little at his laughter and keep talking.
"I was going to introduce you soon, I swear! But then…" your smile falls and you can’t stop the few tears that escape. "Today, while I was waiting on Peter, I saw him…"
You trail off and he holds your hand giving you an encouraging squeeze but still not pushing you. Then, in the smallest voice he’d ever heard you use, you finish your sentence. "He was kissing another girl…"
He wished you hadn’t finished the sentence. You start crying again, quieter than before, but it still broke Tony’s heart.
"Oh, honey…" He wraps his arms around you again, mentally planning how to kill and dispose of the body of the little prick, when he hears you again, your voice barely a whisper.
"It hurts, dad… why does it hurt so much?" you still couldn’t stop crying, barely able to finish the sentence.
"I know, Tinkerbell." The use of your childhood nickname made you smile against the tears, the memory of how it came to be coming to the forefront of your mind.
You were about 6 years old, watching Peter Pan for the first time with your parents, when you started giggling uncontrollably.
Your parents gave you a funny look, expecting you to be sad at the part where Tinkerbell was dying and worried they were raising a little psychopath.
"What are you laughing at, Junior?" much to Pepper’s displeasure Tony had started calling you that, sustaining that you were turning out to be just like a little version of him.
Your mom disagreed, but was slowly changing her mind, especially after what little six year old you said next.
"Daddy’s just like Tinkerbell: if she doesn’t get attention he dies!" you got out between giggles, making Pepper almost double over laughing as Tony started a tickle attack, a fake offended look on his face.
After that your dad started calling you Tinkerbell, not able to let go of your first sarcastic comment, against him of all people, but secretly very proud.
You were brought back to the present by your dad’s words as he started rubbing your back. 
"I know it hurts now, but it’s gonna get better, I promise. Your first heartbreak is never easy, but the good news is you have your whole life ahead of you to find a guy smart enough to understand how lucky he is to be loved by you and never let you go."
Now, Tony Stark is many things.
He’s a genius, billionaire, former playboy and philanthropist. He’s an entrepreneur, a superhero, a savior. He’s a role model, a caring friend and doting husband.
But, at this very moment, you can’t help but be proud to call him your father.
You wish you could tell him that at the moment, but you can’t find the voice to speak so you make a mental note to tell him later. Right now all you can do is hug him so tight you’re not entirely sure he’s able to breathe, but he doesn’t make any attempts to make you let go.
The next couple of hours are spent between hugs, words of encouragement and Tony trying everything he can to make you laugh.
When he succeeds in lifting your spirits, you both make your way to the living room where all of the Avengers are now, Pepper included. You sit next to her and she wraps her arm around you, having already been updated on the situation, of course.
Everyone else seemed to have come to a mutual understanding of not pressing the matter, knowing you’ll open up when you’re ready and not wanting to upset you again now that you’re back to your cheery self.
You’re glad nobody’s asking any questions, acting like nothing happened, exactly what you need right now.
You spend the rest of the day with your family, forgetting all about your broken heart, realizing you’re better off without him.
At one point your dad whispers to you "I still need the name of the little jerk, so I can fuck him up" and you can’t help but laugh, more glad than ever to be lucky enough to be a Stark.
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goldsbitch · 4 months
Text
I gave so many signs
summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.
song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)
exile - Taylor Swift Lie to me - 5 Seconds of Summer (feat. Julia Michaels) Worst of you - Maisie Peters
warning: Present time, the past
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Coming back home to Monaco always brought a sour smile to her face. She loved growing up in this strange small town where everyone knew each other and celebrities came to show off and then went back to wherever, to tell stories of Monte Carlo.
They say that you get to experience three very different real loves in your lifetime - and only if you're lucky, it would be with the same person. Her first love was Charles Leclerc.
I saw you lookin' brand new overnight I caught you lookin' too, but you didn't look twice
Visiting family was the reason why she always came back, but going out with the few girls from high school who stayed there was a treat she dared not to miss. There is just something about hanging out with those people who helped one buy the first eyeshadow and with whom she pregamed at one of their step dad's dermatology office before going on trying to get into any club that would allow minors in. So there she was once again, at the old time spot, having a harder time to hold her alcohol since she'd passed the magic non hangover years. And to her luck, he walked in only a bare half an hour later than her.
Whenever she saw him, even after those years, it was like everyone else had dissapeared from the room. He seemed to age like wine.
It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me I know that you've been holding on to someone else And now I can't sleep
"Come here to me," she teased, moving closer to him. He tried to stop her and playfully pushed himself the furthest away possible the couch would allow. "Charlie, let me see!" she insisted and sat on top of him. She had to act quickly, there would be no way for her to keep the upper hand. He was just turning eighteen soon and the time in gym was starting to bring back results. "I do not have any hairline, Y/N," he gasped, annoyed. His tone changed. Back then she interpreted it as just him being done with her shit. Looking at it now, there probably was a different reason why he became more stiff. She sat on him, going through his hair and taking few photos, blissfully unaware. "I'll show this to you in a few years and we'll see! Ha!" Charles eyes were shooting arrows in her direction. She looked back at him, curious and not grasping the moment in the same way as he did. "What?" she asked simply. "Nothing..."
I can see you standing, honey With his arms around your body Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all
She laughed a bit at that memory as she sipped her drink and tried her best to avoid keeping looking back at him as he sat with his current friends and an absolute gorgeous girl laughing at his joke. She knew who she was. Sometimes she peaked at his socials and then blocked him again right away. She certainly knew he had her blocked.
They went to different schools and Charles had his racing activities anyway. So they'd spent a lot of time texting. A lot.
It was just one of the horrifically long school days where she doubted the point of her existence. Life had to be more than sitting in a pointless computer science class. She wanted to be a big lawyer girl boss one day, so why would she ever care about programming. There she was, staring at the assignment from the teacher who was stuck in 20th century anyway, having little to no clue what to do. As she'd usually do, she texted Charles. Bombed him with twenty texts demanding attention, before he finally responded. "OMG i thought someone had died" "i am dying charles" "no your not" "*you're" "i can go back to my race simulator if you keep being a little shit" "nooo, please dont go. you're my only hope. sorry, your. i get it, you got out of the school too early." "that's it, i'm gone" "noo, please stay, I'll be nice and say nice things about you" "i'm staying, go on" "you are absolutely gorgeous" "yes, agree. more" "you are soo funny, amazing, future heart breaker and your passion for racing is so inspiring" "i like this. more"
Second, third, and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury
They were inseparable, yet nobody knew. Always meeting alone, because they did not need anyone and their social circles didn't really meet together. Whenever he was back in town, the two of them would hit up their favorite café or hang out at his house and then go for a walk. The two of them walked around Monte Carlo as if they were suppose to be the cartographers creating the first map of that area ever. Those were the good old days that came to end very unexpectedly.
We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (Didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
His hands were shaking when he sent the email. But he just could not take it anymore. He was over the moon in love with her and didn't know how to contain it.
"there is no easy way to say this. i love you. sorry. i'm stupid and i know we're just friends. but i basically live only for racing and seeing you. i'm terrified of seeing you with someone else. if there is at least a cell in your body that feels the same, please let's meet up and talk about it. if not, do not reply and i will never mention this again and deal with it. i love you."
She was seventeen when she got his message out of the blue. A scared little girl who was petrified of feelings and anything relationship related. So she never replied to his email.
All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around (I couldn't turn things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (You never gave a warning sign)
Charles had a very little hope that she'd feel the same - why would she, such an amazing person, kind, fun and totally glorified in his eyes, so he could not even imagine him being worthy of her. But what if? What if he was enough? With every day when she did not respond to his email, his heart sank lower. Still, the pain of the first rejection is a hard one to take, because it's usually from a scared unexperienced heart to another and the clumsiness causes great deal of accidental collateral damage one remembers until the end of their life.
You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out
She texted him from school few days after that - a normal text, as if nothing happened. Both of them were too chicken to address the situation openly. So he opted for buring his feeling and she for playing like she had no idea. Deep down, she always knew, even before he emailed her. They texted, continued to meet up. But it was never the same again.
Flashing back to New York City I was done, but you undid me Classic me to run when it feels right
It was hard to get closure for her. After all that had happened and the mess the two made for each other was a hard lesson she remembered vividly. She glanced at your first love again - and finally she met his look, after almost two years of managing to missing each other while they were both back in Monaco. She'd daydreamed about bumping into him, the two chatting and smiling again. The world stopped again for few moments. He shot her an unsure quick half smile that said it all. She knew him too well for that.
And now I wish we never met 'Cause you're too hard to forget While I'm cleaning up your mess I know he's taking off your dress
It was her prom night and she could not be more excited. All her friends were here, family, even Charles managed to get in town to watch her dance and drink all night. She had the night of her life, perfect end to end this chapter of life. The excitement her eyes held was contagious. She spent the first half of her evening with the family and Charles, sharing few dances and laughs. If felt like the good old days. But one shot of tequila led to another and there she was, drunk as pirate and unhinged like a teenage girl. Charles did his best to keep her parents at bay, keep them occupied while he got one of his friends to take care of her. He was worried she might do something stupid, like walk up to the stage and fall down breaking all of her bones. Finally, her parents decided to leave without having to saying goodbye to her after Charles spent a good half an hour convincing them she was just in the back stage and that he'd get her home safe. When they were gone, he began to search for her, only to finally find her sitting on the stairs, making out with the friend he assigned to keep an eye on her.
So take me to every party and just talk to your friends Why don't you let me down, I'll let you do it again Go on and walk all over me, just don't walk away Give me the worst of you 'Cause I want you anyway
It was like being cut open alive and having people watch. There was nothing even remotely graceful about her actions, she was literally sitting on the floor having a battle of tongues with another drunk teenager while people had to walk pass her. It was embarrassing. Charles didn't know what to do. He wanted to run away and never come back, but he couldn't leave her there alone. He couldn't bring himself to stop the two of his friends, because he was just too sad and heartbroken to do so. He just stayed nearby and kept an eye on them. It was one of the longest nights in his life.
She couldn't remember the second half of her prom night and Charles would never speak of it, even though she begged him many times. He always became stiff and started to leave the room. She only kept asking, because it marked one of the biggest shifts in their friendships. He became cold, unresponsive and after few weeks, he stopped communicating completely.
You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before
Funny how people's faces change with years, but the eyes stay the same. The eyes and the look. Charles looked at her the second time this evening. It was like staring back at the eighteen year old boy who was drowning in his feeling.
It was one of her last nights in Monaco before leaving for university. Finally, her dreams were coming true. She was more than ready to get our to show the world she was a force to be reckoned with. She sent Charles countless messages before her final departure, at that moment, she was sure she'll never ever get back to Monaco and wanted to at least understand why he became distant. One evening, he finally agreed to meet up and talk. She was over the moon. Knowing that she could always turn Charles over, she left feeling confident - he was one the very few people she was sure shared the same soul as her. It was as if they'd never stopped talking. Jokes flying everywhere, the two of them strolling around, having no idea this would be the last time (and maybe, that was better for her at the time). There was so much to share, the two kept talking over each other for hours. Charles was happy when she finally stopped to take a breath for a moment. She looked him in the eye and saw a look she'd seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in her mind and out of nowhere, she was kissing the boy she'd been unknowingly in love for years. She'd realize that she loved him only once she started dating a random guy from her college, expecting the same feeling Charles gave her. But it never came. Had she known, she'd have stayed with him. He tried to convince her to start dating him. Almost begged her to try it with him long distance. But there was a whole world for you to discover, places to be and versions of her that needed discovering. She had kissed only once. But it was a kiss of a lifetime. He blocked her on all socials after she rejected him again.
I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (You never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) So many signs, so many signs You didn't even see the signs
The girls were laughing at some joke she missed while digging in her memory for traces of her first love. Charles Leclerc. He was sitting few tables away from her. This time, her heart sank as he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek as they walked away from the bar. She wanted to run to him, to talk to him again after all those years. To tell him the same thing he once emailed her. To explain that she was just too young to notice she had the love of her life right next to you. But she knew all too well what his answer would be. And just like he had back then, she never wanted to hear it out loud.
And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me
part 2
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icannot3 · 9 months
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"Prom Night"
Peter Maximoff x Reader
Word count: 4.2k (a biggie, sorry)
Warnings/notes: NSFW BELOW THE CUT (just the standard stuff, yk?) P in V penetration. Oral (male receiving). Lots of plot before. Despite the title, both Peter and the reader are adults.
Taglist: @taintandviolent @lilthbunny (comment if you'd like to be added!)
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..........
The music is loud, and the atmosphere radiates unadulterated exultation. Like any other traditional party event, bright neon lights illuminate the otherwise dimmed area. The dining hall of the institution looked nothing like it had before. The entire area had been cleared out besides the tables full of delectable treats to snack on in the corner. Students were laughing and dancing to the beat of the music, most very uncoordinated, but that didn't matter. For the first time ever, the young mutants got the chance to feel like normal teenagers. It brought you so much joy to know that it was your idea to have an annual prom at the school, this being the very first and very successful attempt at doing so.
You could see a few students of yours beginning to come out of their shells. Many of them never got the chance to participate in such a social setting. You can tell they felt moderately awkward at the start but slowly allowed themselves to enjoy. This prom was much different than the ones you attended in high school. You always remember them to be boring but customary, hence why everyone still went for the hell of it. Part of you wished you could have had a lively experience like this one, knowing all too well how different you felt in the crowd then, as a secret mutant scared of what others may do if they knew.
But that's all in the past, and truly you could not be happier as chaperone. In the crowd of people, you see bodies being pushed to the side as an undetectable figure zipps past them. You know it's Peter, one, because obviously his powers, and two, because the blur is quickly making its way to the snack bar. Who else would be so desperate to get to them? You giggle at his determined feat. It isn't long before he runs up to you, a plate with a large, overstacked assortment of cake and cookies in hand.
Peter places his free hand on your back, his hand warm against it. "Geez, you look like a supermodel!" Like any school dance, everyone was expected to dress to the nines. All funded by the Professor through the kindness of his very rich heart. The staff is expected to wear nothing short of this, everyone in expensive formal gowns to match the children. Peter's outfit makes him look exceptionally handsome, even though he's already loosened his silver tie sloppily from around his neck. Other than that, his suit is black with a white undershirt that compliments his silver accents. To be real, the color is his trademark. Quite literally, "Quicksilver."
You pull him into a hug he reciprocates as much as he can with only one arm. "Thanks, Quicky. You clean up nicely, too!" Your finger comes below his tie, playfully flicking it upwards to tease him. "You seem like you're already excited for the after party?"
His head jerks back, and Peter lets out a dramatic sigh. "You have no idea how uncomfortable these feel. Sure, women have to wear heels, but I really think that this is the equal evil we should also acknowledge. Plus, you guys get to shamelessly take them off at the dance because everyone understands. Xavier is absolutely insane for wearing this every day." He continues to passionately ramble about the inconvenience, referring to it as "neck prison." You cackle at everything he says because it's Peter. He's naturally always funny. Or perhaps it's your blossoming feelings for him that make you feel this way.
Sometimes, you wonder if Peter is just naturally a touchy person or if there's something more behind his lingering nudges and holds. You certainly entertain it regardless, allowing him to hug and hold you as he pleases. His fingers are delicately playing with the stray hairs against your neck, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He has to know how crazy he drives you.
The timing feels perfect as a slow song comes on through the loud speakers. You silently prayed to whatever DJ God there may be for giving such a great opportunity. You hold his hand in yours, his plate being disregarded elsewhere as you take him to the dancefloor. "You gotta dance with me, I never got to do this with anyone in high school! Please?" Your request accidentally seems more like a demand with your excitement, but he knows you'd never make him do anything he doesn't want. He grins, keeping your hand in his own and wrapping his arm around your waist before swaying to the music.
You're friends. That's all. There's nothing more to it, and there never will be. You conclude that you'd simply have to die with these feelings because certainly they aren't ever going away. It's been years already that you've pined for him. Years that the two of you have been stuck by some imaginary friendship glue. Many of your days are together, you teach gym class with him. When you go on missions, Peter compliments your mutations so well that it's rare you're ever separated. He's what you would call your platonic soul mate.
But that platonic bit feels really out of place when he gives you a look that makes your heart ache. You decide that looking at his eyes that are staring deeply into your own is not helping subside your confidential feelings. Part of you wants to read more into his actions and convince yourself that he feels the same way, but you know that only leads to a shit-ton of misery once you realize that his feelings are still unrequited. So, instead, you rest your forehead against his chest and think about things that don't make you flustered. Like what you're doing tomorrow for training and not how his new cologne for the occasion smells stupidly nice.
The song picks up the beat for the chorus, and either Peter secretly takes dance classes on the low, or he's just naturally this smooth. His hand lifts yours up in the air as he encourages you to twirl. You do, the dress you wear swaying around with your spinning. He brings you back to his chest and then decides to continue to baffle you by dipping you to the floor. You lean back, trusting him fully as he pulls you back up.
By the time the song is over, the two of you are laughing, and you feel as if you can't breathe. "Didn't know you had that in you, Maxipad." The nickname is from an inside joke that you remind him of because it embarrasses him. You used it in hopes that it would make your own pitifully flustered state less noticeable.
"Please, all of those arcades I played Dance Evolution at growing up had me ready." He made his way back to his snack stash, grabbing a cookie. "Even though I was more of a Pin-ball guy. I still have record scores at the arcade in the town I grew up in."
You steal a cookie off of his plate, the bitter-sweet chocolate delight melting on your tastebuds. "You still need to show me what an arcade is like. Maybe we could hit that one." Previously, you had a conversation where you revealed that you've never been to an arcade in the past, which left Peter deeply offended. He vowed to take you to one soon, but the two of you as of lately had found yourselves so busy there was simply never a time.
"Damnit! You're right." His expression of distraught quickly changed to that of a happy one with an idea. "There's an arcade machine in my room I can introduce you to! I mean, it's nowhere near as fun as the entire arcade experience, but-"
"- That sounds perfect, Peter." You didn't even have to be convinced.
You stayed at the dance until it ended for another hour, and Peter seemed to be rather eager to get back, considering the cleaning was going to be a group effort with all of the teachers; but he took the initiative to do it all himself instead of waiting and finished it all within a minute. Not that anyone was complaining, though. It was well past midnight, and class would still be resumed tomorrow at the normal crack-ass of dawn. Any sane person would pass up Peter's offer and reschedule for another time. But not you, you were so unimaginably happy to get invited to his room that the offer still remained as good as gold.
He sped you to his room, and it was everything you expected. For a man almost in his thirties, his decor resembles that of a teenage boy. This ranges from posters, snacks, and scattered piles of clothes on the floor. You can sense his immediate panic due to him not preparing for your presence. Frantically, he zips through his room, and a moment later, it's spotless. You laugh at this. "You know you don't have to do that for me. Mine is probably way worse."
You saunter over to the large arcade machine in the corner, touching the plastic buttons. "Did you buy this thing?" It's clearly a very expensive piece of equipment, gathering by its newer looking condition. Peter comes up behind you, chuckling to himself. "Nah, bro." His response made you certain that he'd stolen it, likely in his youth when he was a bit more scandalous.
Turning around to face him, you notice he's rather close. As much as he was earlier, except clearly not for the reason of dancing. You can't help but remember how low his hand was against your back. If he'd moved it even an inch further, he would have been touching you much more sensually. You wouldn't mind if he had.
As a matter of fact, you gathered that it's strange he'd invite you up so late. Yes, it's Peter, and he's never been the predictable type. But never in the years that you've known him has he invited you to spend quality time together at one in the morning, in his bedroom.
Once again, you shake yourself out of your lingering thoughts, ashamed. You're so ridiculously horny that it's embarrassing. He remains where he stood, playing with the strap of your dress.
"That's gotta be uncomfortable. Do you want something else to put on?" His thumb grazes over the red mark where the strap had been rubbing against your shoulder. Before you can even answer the question, he's searching through his dresser. He pulls out a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and sweats. Not wanting to be rude, you take the clothes and step in his personal bathroom for privacy. Looking in the mirror gave you a small boost of confidence. Your makeup looks still wonderfully intact, and the dress you picked hugs your curves beautifully. It makes you feel so elegant that you almost feel sad to take it off.
But you can't. When your fingers give the zipper on your back a hard tug after many other failed attempts, you begin to panic. The fabric must be seriously jammed for this to happen. You've never had this much of a struggle taking off an article of clothing. For over ten minutes, you desperately try, breaking a sweat as you do so. That sadness from earlier changes to desperation as you try to then pull the dress over your head. You are unable to do this. It's too tight and won't even come over your shoulders.
Peter must have started to grow concerned with your absence. Hearing a knock on the door makes you jump. His voice from the other side is quiet. "You alright in there, bud?"
Your hands cover your face in embarrassment. You feel like you want to scream. It takes you a moment to awnser, fighting yourself on what to do next. There's a small window in the bathroom you think is large enough to jump out of, but considering your mutation is not flight and the fact that you're on the second floor makes you decide against it.
Finally, deciding to fess up, you stand at the door, opening it. "I'm stuck. My zipper is stuck." Clearly having no issues himself, he is already in his own comfortable clothing. You can see his suit disregarded on the floor in the corner of the room, that godforsaken tie on top of the pile. You know you can trust Peter to help you. He's not a creep. Not anything besides the occasional childish sex joke.
Peter laughs, motioning for you to turn around. "Geez, it seems like you just want a reason for me to undress you." You turn your head back to give him an eye roll, but accept his help and lift your hair up to assist him. His hands are gentle as he fights with the zipper. He seems to struggle as well, fiddling with the fabric for quite a while before finally you feel the sweet release of the restrictive clasp coming undone. After hours, you can finally breathe.
He'd just undone the top, but his hands stayed in their spot. Tingles went down your spine as he continued to slowly bring the zipper down. It was getting low. When you put it on earlier, it went all the way down to your ass before it was zipped. Right before he gets to that point, you stop him with your hand. Turning around to face him, you awkwardly smile; his hand still behind you.
Ultimately, you had enough, placing your hand on his chest. You aren't brainless. That was definitely a signal. "Peter, did you really invite me up here to play games? If not, that's fine, but I'm kinda dying from anticipation right now. Sometimes, I feel like you're leading me on. But then you do things that make me think we're just friends, and it's really confusing. And I have no problem with just being friends, but it's the middle of the night, and I'm standing in your bedroom half naked instead of playing Pong like we said we would and -"
He ends your rambling by pulling you close, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. You deeply inhale, taking a moment to register what's going on before kissing back. It feels heavenly, like drifting down a lazy river that doesn't have any kids in it relaxing. Like, your brain is slowly going to mush and becoming more and more useless as you continue, but you're totally okay with becoming a human vegetable if that means you can just keep going. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the connection. He tightens his arms around your back before lifting you up off of the ground, slowly twirling you around in a circle while in the air. This makes you snicker against his lips, which he reciprocates. The happy moment makes your brain foggy with admiration.
"I'm an absolute loser for not doing this sooner." Peter lays you down on the bed, joining beside you. Your legs hang off of the edge of the furniture. "I really, really like you. I have for a while. When we decided to have a prom I wanted to ask you to go with me so bad and be all cheesy about it, but I pussied out so I decided that the next best option was to get Jean and Raven to teach me how to dance so that we could." His words are being sputtered out like rapid-fire. "Please tell me I'm not finally saying this too late, and you haven't met someone else?" His voice is soft, laced with hints of doubt. He brings his fingers up to your hair, brushing it off of your cheek and behind your ear.
Your discomposure becomes all the more obvious as you pick at your nails, fiddling with your hands anxiously. This entire moment is more than you could even fathom in the past, like a fairy-tale coming to life. He likes you. He has liked you! Every pent-up feeling you've ever had for years has been reciprocated. "Peter -." You pause, trying to think on what to say. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You wouldn't be late even if you had waited another few years to tell me that. I've liked you for a while."
Peter rolls himself on top of you, pressing multiple kisses to your face. He starts with your forehead, traveling his lips quickly down your nose, then rapidly on your cheeks. The affection feels pleasantly smothering. Finally, with one last final peck on the space between your brows, he connects himself to your lips once more. It's even better than the first time, giving you more of an electric sensation.
You grow heated, the sensation making you feel aroused. The kisses on your end grow more open-mouthed and inviting. When his tongue slips inside hungrily, you whimper, reveling in the feeling. This only encourages Peter more as he lifts his arm behind your back, making it arch while gliding his other hand down your torso. He groans delightfully, feeling your curves with fervor.
"Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" His voice is deep with longing. His tongue laps against the sensitive flush of your neck. He finds the spot that makes you gasp the loudest, sucking the area just enough to make a small mark of his presence. You definitely don't ever want him to stop. He continues to go lower, trailing down between your breasts. Peter pulls you up, sliding the already half-off dress down your shoulders. His face turns bright red as a gawks at the sight of your bare chest. His finger rolls over your soft bud as he feels it harden beneath it. Squeezing your soft mound, he plays with you for just a little longer before connecting his lips to yours. There's a certain gentle urgency in his touch that brings you to an otherworldly place. Nothing else matters in this moment besides his hand that's slowly coming up your thigh. You can feel yourself already slick with arousal as you squeeze your legs together for some kind of friction. Peter senses this, using his hand to spread you apart as much as he can with your still clothed bottom-half.
He cups your center with his palm, rubbing over the area. His fingers curl inside of your folds, the ghost of a touch teasingly going over where you need him most. You mewl desperately for him, grinding into his hand. He grins against your neck, chuckling to himself. "So wet for me already? That's extremely hot. Have you ever gotten this worked up for me before, when you're all alone?"
He finally rubs slow circles against your clit, causing your eyes to screw shut with ecstacy. You can only bring yourself to nod as a response, finding yourself physically unable to speak in such a state. His hard-on is pressing against your leg. You can tell he's just as desperate as you are. Taking your hand, you press it against his chest to signal him to stop. His movements coming to an end leave you with a sense of longing as you get up, but quickly, you remove the rest of your dress and allow it to fall to the floor. Fervently, you slide down his pants and boxers. His cock springs to life after no longer being restricted by the confines. His tip is already leaking precum. The craziest thing about this entire ordeal is how natural it feels, but perhaps that's because of how often you find yourself imagining it.
Peter swallows, knowing where you're going with this as you wrap your hand around his shaft. You squeeze him lightly in your hand, testing the waters by giving a few slow pumps while watching his reactions. His face contorts in pleasure as he leans back on his elbows. He refuses to look away, fascinated by the sight of you. You experimentally lick from the bottom of his length to the tip, swirling your tongue around it. The taste is actually quite nice, faintly sweet. You suck his tip once more before finally bobbing your head down, taking as much of him as you can. It's only a little more than halfway before you can feel him against the back of your throat. You have to hold back gagging from the sensation. Peter lets out a deep groan, saying your name like it's his mantra. As you continue, his groans grow more needy. His hips instinctively thrust upwards, causing your eyes to water as he fucks your throat. A part of you grows embarrassed, knowing the tears in your eyes and swollen lips are not the greatest sight to see. But Peter trains his eyes on you, mesmerized.
He pulls you off of him, taking off his shirt before aligning himself with you. You look down and admire his toned muscles, stroking them curiously. It's wonderful. He feels and looks like one of those majestic Greek statues. Not the weird ones with small dicks and missing noses. Peter's cock teasingly rubs between your wet folds, brushing against your sensitive clit. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go inside. He begins to push his tip in, slowly bottoming out. When he finally does, he gasps, squeezing your hips. The feeling is delectable as he stretches you out so perfectly. You can feel your walls fluttering around him. Nodding your head, you signal for him to continue.
His pace quickens fast, and Peter pulls one of your legs up as he thrusts to go deeper. His eyes are trained on your expression, trying to find the perfect spot to hit in order to fully satisfy you. When he achieves this, the upward curve of his dick rubbing an area that makes your eyes practically roll to the back of your skull, he drills you just like that into the mattress. You find yourself unable to hold back the unholy noises you had no idea you could make. Pleasure overwhelming enough to make you mentally check out.
You begin feeling an all too familiar intense fondness in your abdomen. It's like a tital wave threatening to spill over. You grab Peter's shoulders, pulling him close. He peppers kisses along your collarbone, thrusts getting more uncoordinated and sloppy. He's getting close too, you can tell by his labored breathing and moans that are growing slightly more high-pitched and frequent. His hand reaches down, buzzing against your throbbing bud to finish you off. Your eyes shoot wide open, not expecting that suprise. Sure, you've seen him use this technique in the past to break glass, but never had you imagined that he could do this. He pumps once more deeply inside of you, sending you over the edge. Blinding pleasure explodes throughout your body, sending you into an oblivion. Peter pulls himself out, cumming on the soft skin of your stomach and letting out a guttural moan.
He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your shoulder. Sweetly, his hand runs through your hair, a string of unintelligible compliments being whispered in your ear. "You're so perfect, baby. Never, never, never ever letting you go. Never. Don't ever leave me." Those are a few of the many you manage to make out. You tightly embrace him, allowing yourself to relax against him.
You feel a sudden shift, and in the blink of an eye you find yourself wearing the clothes he gave you earlier, all cleaned up. He is instantly laying beside you again, fully dressed, with a blanket covering the two of you. He pulls you against him as he lays on his back. Smiling, you trace small circles onto his chest. "We should do that more often, huh?"
He nods excitedly, pulling you in tightly. "Oh hell yeah, we've got years of being deprived we gotta make up for."
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spindrifters · 3 months
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I've been doing battle with my internet all day to get this up for Lynxmas. I would not be bested!! I refused and I persevered!! So a very happy birthday from me and the rowdy 11 year olds to our favorite barwench humble forest cat @lynxindisguise!!
There’s a peculiar shuffle to sharing one’s room, a frenzy of activity when it comes to four boys squashed into a rather small circular dorm that puts Remus—not only used to the solitude of his own little cottage bedroom, but raised without so much as a single other child his own age for at least ten miles in each direction—decidedly on edge.
It’s a continuation of the chaos from the welcoming feast, where the newly-sorted Gryffindor boys had quickly found their stride and accompanying role in the ecosystem. James and Sirius, no longer competing over who could eat more chicken thighs but still loudly trying to one-up each other’s boasts about feats of accidental magic. Peter, scrabbling to get a word in while his eyes gleamed with excitement each time one of them noticed. And Remus, the impulse to join in the fun warring with Dad’s gentle word of warning before he climbed on the train earlier in the day—can’t be too careful, lad.
He pushes that to the side, focusing instead on finding his plush grindylow Raccoon at the bottom of his trunk. It’s a poor replacement for Jeff, the very real grindylow who lives at the bottom of his garden pond and who he already misses something fierce—and he is not going to let the other boys see that he brought a stuffed animal with him to school, thank you very much—but still. It helps to know that Raccoon’s there. It helps to know he'll have at least one friend at school.
Because Peter’s nice, but he and James are already friends from growing up, and Sirius and James… Well, he supposes they mean well, but with their shining black shoes and posh accents and the way they barrel loud and bright through a conversation like nothing in the world could touch them, Remus can’t help but be intimidated. For Merlin’s sake, Sirius has silver monogrammed cufflinks on the sleeves of his school uniform. Even if Remus does manage the courage to ever string more than two words together in front of his new dormmates, he can’t imagine they’d ever want to be friends with someone like him.
There’s a flash then, followed by a bang, and Remus becomes briefly distracted by a whirling firework escaping from James’s trunk. There’s laughter at that, a slight salve to his fluttering, nervous gut when the other boy winks at him from behind square-frame glasses, but then James turns back to say something to Sirius instead and stops. He gapes.
“Why are you wearing a dress?”
“It’s not a dress,” Sirius sniffs, looking affronted at the very idea. “It’s a nightshirt.”
Well, whatever it is Sirius has changed into while the rest of them weren’t paying attention, it certainly looks like a dress. It’s white, and ankle-length, and buttoned all the way up to just beneath his chin. Also, it’s frilly. Very frilly. If anything, it looks like something out of Ma’s old and battered copy of A Christmas Carol, like he should really have a long nightcap and candleholder to go with it.
Remus can’t help it. He snorts.
Sirius snaps his gaze over, steel grey eyes boring holes into him, and Remus wants to melt into the floor beneath his feet. “Well, what do you wear to sleep, then, if it’s so funny?” he snaps.
“Not my gran’s nightie,” Remus replies, feeling he ought to be congratulated, actually, on such a witty remark. Only Sirius’s eyes flash at that, and immediately his jaw clamps jaw shut.
But then James is cackling, and Sirius seems to take in his new dormmates for the first time since they all began changing for bed. James, in a vest and Quidditch shorts. Peter, in a matching set of broomstick-patterned pyjamas. Remus, in a pair of joggers and the oversized green jumper that still smells like Dad. A red flush creeps up Sirius’s pale cheeks. “Oh.”
It occurs to Remus then, that this wasn’t at all what he wanted, either. He didn’t want to make Sirius feel bad about it. He hadn’t wanted to embarrass him.
So it’s a poor offering, maybe, but he finds himself digging out another jumper—orange, this time, but a nice soft one, and not too oversized or nubby—and says, “D’you want to borrow it?”
A moment passes, then two, and then Sirius is smiling wide. “Cheers, Lupin,” he says, a shine in his eyes of something Remus doesn’t quite know how to place.
In future days he’ll come to understand that that look is the surefire sign of Sirius about to do something that’s not the done thing—not by pureblood standards, anyway, whatever the hell those are. All he knows right now is that Sirius isn’t yelling at him—or worse, ignoring him—and then James is throwing an extra pair of Quidditch shorts at Sirius’s face and saying no one wants to see his skivvies, and then Peter is breaking out a massive bag of Bertie Bott’s to share, and maybe it turns out that Remus can have friends, actually, after all.
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This is the an AU idea of mine so none of this are canon okay? They will act a bit ooc, okay? We're good? Okay Good. Anyway...
I made an AU prompt where at first, the heavens didn't trust Sir Pentious. But the more Sir Pentious hung out in the heavens, the more the heavens except Lute, but no one cared about her opinion grew attached. Because, come on! Sir Pentious is the definition of pure! Why is he considered a sinner anyway? So when Sir Pentious asked Sera to let him visit the Hazbin Hotel as he is missing his friends, Sera and the other angels (including St. Peter) tried to convince him to stay in heaven FOREVER..
Telling him how great the heavens are! And that Hazbin Hotel has done its job to get him into the heavens, so why go back? He has friends here, so why go back? Why return to that terrible place?
I IMAGINE THEY SING A SONG SIMILAR TO THIS:
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kamaluhkhan · 1 year
Text
if it's real, if it's sweet
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pairing: shuri x fem!reader
summary: you and shuri are pretty much living in domestic bliss, until a double date leads to a revelation about your relationship. your reconciliation involves you fucking shuri like no other girl has before and giving shuri the best orgasm(s) of her life (and vice versa). let's just say....the two of you live happily ever after <3
warnings: fluff, angst (reader and shuri have an argument), and smut!! mostly sub!shuri, oral (reader and shuri receiving), spitting, squirting, strap-on, tribbing...enjoy :)
song inspo: "cherry" by FLETCHER and hayley kiyoko
a/n: hello! this fic is kind of a part 2 of my first fic i'm not wanting anything (but your loving, your body, and a little bit of your brain) but not much context is needed. there is a lot of plot and smut is mostly at the end. this is set between endgame and wakanda forever. i might do a part 3 that would be very angsty, so stay tuned. also if you're wondering my fancast for harry osborn it's jonathan daviss and for peter parker it's nico hiraga (sorry tom holland!)
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"fuck, shuri," you moaned as her tongue touched your folds. "we don't have time for this...."
you had class in an hour and shuri had to get to work, but the combination of the hot water hitting your skin and shuri's tongue in your cunt was something you did not want to give up just yet - even if you didn't want to admit it.
"usana," shuri scolded, looking up at you innocently, as if she wasn't the one who decided to push you against the shower wall and get on her knees in front of you. "it was your idea to shower together this morning."
"well, sorry for wanting to save water," you breathed, your grip tightening on her curls. "the planet is dying."
shuri pulled away from you once more, lips shining with your slick. "well, i didn't realize you cared so much about the environment. if that's all this is...." she got up to her feet and turned off the water. "we better get going, pretty girl."
you whined at the loss of contact and clenched your thighs together at the nickname, something that did not go unnoticed by shuri. shuri ran her tongue across her bottom lip before leaning forward to kiss you, your back pushed against the cool tile and the taste of you faint on her tongue.
hearing your alarm go off reminded you that there were other responsibilities you each had to attend to. reluctantly, the two of you dried off and made your way to your (shared) bedroom. you put on a matching bright orange boyshort / bralette combo before slipping on some jeans and an orange cropped sweater, and moving on to your makeup.
as you got ready, you watched in the mirror as shuri looked in the closet for something to wear, currently only dressed in black briefs and a sports bra. once she picked out an outfit, her eyes caught yours in the mirror.
"what?" she asked, slipping on a white mesh top.
you smiled, swiping on some orange eyeshadow (shuri might have been the princess of wakanda, but you were the queen of coordination). even though shuri was moving in at the end of the month -- she needed to go tie up some loose ends in wakanda before coming to live in new york long term -- you loved how comfortably she already fit into your life here. you loved seeing her clothes in your closet, the lava lamp she spotted at a thrift store on the corner of the desk, the photobooth strip of the two of you at a surprise birthday party you'd thrown her last weekend (everyone had a great time and danced and drank until late....needless to say you and shuri showed up very hungover to pepper potts' baby shower the next morning). you loved how you could smell your papaya body wash on her skin. you loved waking up with her arm around your waist, how she mumbled in her sleep about calculations she needed to get done. you loved how she took the subway with you to class, how she visited you at work when you had a slow shift. the two of you had been together for a few years, but your lives had never been this intertwined.
"nothing," you finally responded, finishing with a layer of mango lip gloss on your lips. "don't forget we have that double date tonight."
shuri groaned. "do we have to?"
you didn't particularly want to have dinner with your roommate and his (somewhat) pretentious boyfriend either, but peter parker has been your best friend and partner in crime-fighting for years as well. you owed it to him to give harry osborn a chance.
"if harry's spending more time with pete, it means he'll be spending more time here, so it's probably best that we all get along," you reasoned. you walked over to where shuri was examining her outfit in the full length mirror and wrapped your arms around her waist. she leaned back into your chest, sighing. "please?" you trailed kisses down her neck for good measure.
"fine, i'll do it."
"amazing!" you planted one last kiss on the corner of her mouth before pulling away and gathering your things for class. "the dinner's at 7, but we should probably come back here to change into something nicer. maybe we can meet here and walk over together?"
shuri nodded just as another alarm went off from your phone. "how many alarms do you have?"
"too many, as necessary as they may be," you declared brightly, pressing the cancel button and kissing shuri one last time. you pulled away and she groaned, taking the opportunity to move your shirt slightly and leave bites on your exposed collarbone. you checked the time on your phone.
maybe you could spare a little more time.
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the double date was at some fancy italian restaurant in the upper west side. you each ordered pasta dishes and harry ordered a bottle of red wine for the table. the wine came quickly, but given how busy the restaurant was, you anticipated your food would take longer. meanwhile, the conversation flowed naturally from awkward small talk about the weather, to current tv show obsessions (you and shuri were bingeing project runway), to work at oscorp (where you, peter, and harry were interns), and finally to college classes. that's how you found yourself ranting about the lecture in your molecular engineering class from that afternoon.
"i mean no offense to tony - loved the guy - but i know for a fact that my super smart sexy girlfriend cracked that technology years before he did," you declared. "so the fact that my professor -- this white woman, by the way -- uplifts stark tech as the beacon of the future is total bullshit."
"that is total bullshit," harry agreed. "colonizers gonna colonize, i guess."
shuri laughed, a sound you would never get tired of hearing. she had her right arm casually draped across the back of your chair as she held her glass in her left hand, taking occasional sips.
"i mean most of the avengers use nanotech now, right?" harry was directing his question at you, since to his knowledge you were the only avenger at the table, but peter seemed to have forgot that he had a secret identity.
"most of us, yeah," peter answered. you nudged his foot under the table. "ow!" he exclaimed, but once he looked at you, he realized his slip up. "most of them," he corrected, chuckling awkwardly and avoiding harry's gaze. "at least that's what i can gather from my stark internship."
it took a lot in you to not roll your eyes at the fact that peter was still using the 'stark internship' excuse, but harry seemed to buy it.
"anyways, y/n, finish your story," peter suggested.
"well, that's basically what i said in class," you explained.
"that your super smart sexy girlfriend cracked nanotechnology years before tony stark?" shuri wondered.
you shrugged. "pretty much. i also said something about colonizers, but i forget what exactly."
shuri grinned. "that's my girl," she leaned over to plant a kiss on your cheek.
a few waiters came over to bring plates full of pasta, and you all thanked them. your stomach grumbled at the delicious smell, a reminder that you had barely eating all day in between classes. you were so ready to dig in to some quality fettucine alfredo.
"you guys really are a power couple," harry pointed out, gesturing between you and shuri as you started to eat. "how long have you two been together?"
you swallowed a mouthful of pasta. "well, we met right after the avengers split up because of the sokovia accords," you started, clearing your throat. it certainly wasn't your favorite time of your life, but something good obviously did come from that time. if none of it happened, you might not have gotten together with shuri.
"steve dropped me off in wakanda -- i was freshly 18 and he was worried what would happen to me if i went back to new york. so, i stayed there for a while and that's how i met this one." you nudged shuri playfully with your elbow, and she moved a hand under the table to squeeze your upper thigh. "she showed me around, we worked in the lab together and we were friends for a while, of course, but our first non-platonic date was the night before i left wakanda. she brought be up to the top of mount bashenga, we shared a bottle of mango soju that t'challa brought back from korea and then we...." you trailed off, not wanting to necessarily go into the physical details of your first time together. "long story short, we've been girlfriends ever since."
"well, that wasn't our first official date, though," shuri said, taking a sip of her wine.
"oh?" you tilted your head, wondering if your memory was off. but, no, you were sure. it was the night before you left wakanda - it couldn't have been before and it couldn't have been later. your entire relationship had been long distance until recently.
"i visited you in the fall," shuri recounted. "you took me to magnolia bakery to get that banana pudding, we walked around central park, and then we slept together in your dorm while your roommate was at a frat party - that was when we became exclusive."
you chewed slowly, ingesting her words. "that was a few months after i left wakanda though." shuri nodded. "we were already together."
"yeah," shuri agreed. "but weren't exclusive."
"okay, you keep saying that word." at this point, you had completely forgotten your dinner and your double date. "what does that mean, though?"
"like, we were seeing other people," shuri stated casually. she was still eating her pasta, and you grabbed the fork out of her hand. "i wasn't finished with that."
"so you were sleeping with other people? while we were together?"
"well...yeah."
peter's mouth practically dropped to the floor, and harry almost choked on a piece of penne.
you, on the other hand, were silent, frozen. it shouldn't have been that big of a deal - maybe you would have agreed to do the whole friends with benefits thing - but you and shuri clearly hadn't been on the same page. you fell for her, hard and fast, but it didn't seem like she would say the same for you. and you were sure that you'd had the are we exclusive? conversation before you parted ways.
suddenly, your avengers buzzer (an addition made at the request of carol danvers - she swore by them) went off.
harry cleared his throat. "avengers business?"
"yeah," you replied, dropping shuri's fork back in her plate. you glanced at peter, who just shook his head slightly. he would have to sit this one out. "i have to go."
shuri started to call out your name, but you were already out the door.
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when you got home later that night, shuri was still up, sitting in the living room with one lamp on. she hadn't changed from dinner, still wearing her patterned suit, but had unbuttoned the top even more. she looked way too good, and if you weren't currently frustrated at her, you would have suggested going to the bedroom right away.
"peter is sleeping at harry's."
"okay," you replied crisply.
you walked to your bedroom and removed your supersuit, looking for some comfortable clothes to wear. your entire body ached, your head throbbing.
"are we going to talk about it, or are you just going to shut me out?"
you groaned, way too exhausted after dealing with a flying green goblin terrorizing midtown. you didn't want to have to deal with this right now. searching through your drawers, you eventually found some sleep shorts and the i <3 wakanda t-shirt shuri had gotten you as a joke.
"i'm tired, shuri." you sat on the bed and started rubbing some lavender body butter on your arms and legs.
"no, you're angry," shuri countered, leaning against the doorframe and watching you go through your nightly ritual.
"can't i be both?" you got up, took off your bra, and slipped on your shorts. you turned to shuri just in time to watch her stare at your bare chest before you finally put on your t-shirt.
"look, you have nothing to be angry about. those first few months, we were keeping it casual, yeah? we were -- how do you americans call it -- friends with benefit."
the way she stated it as though she was explaining scientific theories, the way she was being so casual now like you were overreacting, sent a wave of frustration through your body.
"you can't be fucking serious right now!"
"i don't understand why this is such a big deal! it was years ago!"
you scoffed. "i thought that what we had was real from the start, okay? friends with benefits only works when there are no strings attached, and i remember us very clearly having strings attached. there's no way i would have - i don't know - been so vulnerable with you if i thought it was just sex."
"that's the friend part," shuri continued matter-of-factly. she finally walked into the room, removing her suit jacket and unbuttoning her shirt even more. before long, her top half was only covered by a black sports bra.
you scoffed. "if that's how you act with friends, then i seriously think you need to follow up with the rest of the girls you fucked at the time. how many were there, anyways?"
shuri hesitated.
"answer the question, shuri," you snapped.
"i like sex, you know that! you weren't there, so i had to find other girls to sleep with."
"yeah, i like sex, too! and normally i wouldn't judge you, but we had agreed--"
"we had not agreed ---"
"we had!
"can we agree to disagree? what's the big deal anyways?"
"well, the big deal is that while you were busy sleeping with other girls, i was in my dorm, waiting to spend all my international minutes on a call that would go to voicemail because - oh !- you were apparently busy sleeping with other girls!"
"i kept telling you to use the kimoyo beads i gave you," shuri mumbled.
"are serious right now?" you exclaimed. "i spent most of that semester waiting for you, thinking about you - and you probably couldn't have cared less! i was stressed and lonely and - yeah, i'll say it - horny, while i could have been out having fun too."
"that's not my fault," shuri scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "i doubt you missed that many opportunities."
"oh? how can you be so sure?"
"well, no one knew that you were an avenger then."
when you first started being an avenger, you were a kid. it wasn't until well after you were 18, after the accords and in a desperate plea to get steve and the others to return, that you revealed your identity to the world, press conference and all. which meant that shuri had a point: during your first semester at empire state university, no one knew that you were an avenger.
"so you're saying that girls would only fuck me if they thought i was a superhero?"
"i'm not saying that's the only reason, but it is a big one."
it took a second for the implication of her words to fully sink in. suddenly, the room felt smaller and you hated every reminder that you and shuri were building a life, here, together.
"is that why we got together in the first place? you wanted to fuck a superhero?"
shuri froze, as if she too just understood the turn your argument had taken.
"shuri. answer the fucking question. is that the reason we got together?" her silence made you claustrophobic, and, again, you were way too tired to deal with this. "i'm gonna sleep at mj's." you were about to grab your phone and keys before shuri stopped you.
"wait. baby, please wait," she pleaded. "i didn't mean -- just, let me explain, okay? please."
you looked at her, jaw tense and eyes searching yours, and you couldn't resist. you just had to hear her out. she sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing at you to join her, but you remained standing, arms crossed and waiting for an explanation.
"maybe....maybe i was intrigued by the fact you were an avenger. i thought you were so cool and badass and i wanted to know you, like really know you. and once i did, i couldn't help but fall for you. i wanted to be with you."
"yeah, you fucking other girls really reflects that."
"let me finish," shuri sighed. "when you went back to new york, i didn't think we'd last. i was scared that our time together in wakanda was just some short, passionate fling for you and you'd forget all about me. or, worse, you'd realize that you just want to be friends and i would be stuck alone, pining for you. sleeping with other people was just a protective measure, i guess."
while you were surprised by her confession, you didn't feel entirely satisfied. you did, however, finally sit on the bed next to her. "you didn't think to talk to me about any of this? to ask whether or not i was invested in our relationship?"
"i'm good with calculations, y/n, not people."
being this close to her, you couldn't help but stare at shuri: at the way her jaw looked sharper in the moonlight, her eyes darker, her lips slightly parted as she waited for you to say something.
"i guess it would have been nice to know how much you thought about me," you whispered.
shuri brings her hand up your thigh and under your shirt, stroking the skin underneath your breast with her thumb. you shuddered at the contact.
"i thought about you all the time. bast, i even called other girls by your name during sex. multiple times."
weirdly, you felt a little proud at that. "i guess i really made an impression on you," you hummed. "tell me: did any of those other girls fuck you better than me?" you asked, voice low.
shuri removed her hand from your body, shrugging. "maybe."
"shuri," you warned. "don't."
"or what?" she challenged, leaning forward, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "are you gonna punish me? because if you want to have your way with me....i wouldn't stop you."
with that, you pushed her onto the bed. she let out a yelp when her back hit the mattress. once you were hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you did what you yearned to do as soon as you walked in earlier that night: you kissed her, passionately, deeply. you bit her lip as you pulled away.
"you really want that - for me to have my way with you?"
shuri whimpered. "yes."
"you might regret saying that, usana."
shuri loved it when you spoke xhosa, you knew that. she leaned up to capture your lips, but you had other plans.
you kissed down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and shoulders down to her stomach. after you fumbled with the button of her pants, shuri lifted her hips from the bed so that you could remove them. once the pants were thrown on the floor, you kissed her core through her briefs, feeling a wet spot against your lips.
quickly, you took off her briefs, being greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you ran your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already felt her slick coating your lips. shuri lifted her legs so they rested on your shoulders. with this angle, you gathered some of her slick and sunk two fingers into her heat.
"gods, i've barely touched you and you're already about to come," you teased, feeling her clench around your fingers. "are you going to come for me?" all you got in response was whine. with your other hand, you reached up to pinch the side of her hip. "answer me, princess."
shuri propped herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you removed your mouth from her.
"yes!" she cried. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel throbbing between your thighs, hearing how frantic her voice sounded - like she needed you and only you. "please, just do something."
at her request, you moved up the bed so that the two of you were face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other was still two fingers deep in her cunt.
with your thumb, you traced over her lips. "open." shuri obeyed you instantly, and you couldn't help but clench your thighs together - you had never seen her this desperate. you spat in her mouth, heart racing as you watched her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.
you continued fucking her with your fingers until she moaned, louder and louder as she reached her peak.
removing your fingers from her pussy, you locked eyes with her as you brought your glistening fingers to your mouth and sucked off her juices. then, you kissed the tattoo underneath her ear, whispering: "have i ever told you that you're the sweetest thing i've ever tasted?"
when shuri smiled, you couldn't help but think how gorgeous she was, how vulnerable she was underneath you, how she was yours. unfortunately, you also couldn't help but think that there was a time when you thought she was yours and yours alone, while there were other girls with her like this.
so, you decided then that you weren't quite done with her.
"you really want me to have my way with you?" you asked once more, just to be sure.
"yes. anything."
you kissed her again, this time rougher than the last. "where's that new strap you made?"
shuri gestured to the closet. you stripped down before retrieving the strap - bigger than any either of you had used on the other before - and adjusted it around your hips. when you turned back to the bed, shuri was completely naked, nipples perked against the cold air, thighs shining from her previous orgasm.
"turn around," you instructed. "on your knees."
again, shuri complied. you knelt behind her on the bed, grasping her hips. you looked down at her cunt, already dripping, and she gasped when she felt you spit onto her hole. without further ado, you thrusted forward.
you both moaned when you started to enter her. shuri invented a strap that allowed both the wearer and the receiver to feel pleasure; hell, you could even feel her walls clench around you, how deep you were inside her. technology was a beautiful thing.
"you okay, baby?" you asked once you were halfway inside her.
"yes," she breathed. she turned her head as much as she could towards you. "keep going."
once you were fully inside her, strap nestled in her warm cunt, your thighs met her ass. you slipped out slightly, only to thrust back in, over and over, until shuri was a moaning mess beneath you. her body started to shake and she almost collapsed onto her elbows, so you reached one hand to her neck and lifted her up so that your nipples brushed against her back.
"more," she moaned, reaching an arm back to help guide your hips forward, faster.
you kissed the back of her neck, trailing your hand down from her neck to pinch one of her nipples. you moved your other hand to her clit, rubbing the nub in tight circles and gathering as much slick as you could. you then took those same fingers and shoved them into her mouth, allowing her to taste her sweetness.
you almost came right then and there, watching how she truly let you have your way with her body. "i never knew you were such a slut," you taunted. you took your fingers out of her mouth so shuri could respond, instead grasping her neck once more, applying just the slightest pressure you knew drove her crazy.
"only for you," she groaned.
after a particularly hard thrust, shuri came, bursting all over the sheets. she collapsed forward on the bed, breathing hard.
"did you just...." the wet stains on the purple silk sheets were enough evidence. shuri just squirted.
shuri laughed, breathlessly. "fuck. i've never done that before."
you took off the strap and turned her over. her skin glistened with sweat and her curls were stuck to her forehead, but shuri would never not be beautiful.
"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whispered. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."
shuri nodded, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts were touching. both of you were so worked up, you from watching shuri fall apart twice and shuri from, well, her two previous orgasms, that it didn't take long for you to feel her gush against you, and vice versa.
strings of cum connected you as you removed your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath.
"i'm sorry," shuri finally said. she shifted her body to lay on her side, facing you. "i almost messed this up but --"
"it's fine," you said, turning your head towards her. "it was a misunderstanding."
"i just...." shuri sighs, voice trembling slightly. "i just want to assure you that i would never want to do anything to hurt you. what we have is more real that anything i ever had with any other girl. you were right, it has been like that from the start, even if i almost messed it up."
you used your thumb to wipe away a tear from shuri's cheek. "are you crying because i gave you the best orgasm of your life?"
despite being in tears, shuri laughed. "i'm crying because i love you."
"i love you too, shuri," you assured her, your finger tracing the tattoo on the side of her arm. "also we should probably take a shower before sleeping."
shuri hummed. "you and your showers." the two of you laughed, remembering this morning. "before that, i have something for you...." she got up and grabbed a paper bag on the floor, handing it to you.
one eyebrow raised, you opened the bag and pulled out a bottle of lychee soju. your expression softened. "it was lychee soju," you mused, looking between the bottle and shuri.
"see, i do remember!" shuri grinned. she slipped on her underwear and your sleep shirt before running to the kitchen to grab some mugs. shuri poured the drink into them and handed you one.
as you sipped the bittersweet liquid, you couldn't help but think: you and shuri. this was real.
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wrapping up the last three hundred and sixty-five days with a round up of all the 'x reader' fanfiction I have published in 2022. thank you all for all your requests, feedback, reblogs and support over the last twelve months, especially during the 10k month of fic! sharing this love for these characters with you all is such a mental refresh for me, and hopefully I can publish even more fics in 2023. and I hope that you'll love all the new fics as much as you've loved these ones :)
happy new year!
full content warnings and content can be found on each individual post, and each fic is labelled for length. follow me on bartonstark to find all my fic in one place, or check out my ao3. smut/sexual content: *** personal favourites: ///
BRUCE BANNER:
afterwards (drabble) *** aftercare with bruce.
bend, don't break (oneshot) *** /// the take a reprieve during a party, and take a new step in your relationship.
fear and loving in iowa (oneshot) when you’re injured in johannesburg, bruce blames himself.
fireworks (oneshot) thanks to the frigid air at the top of the tower, you share a tender moment.
first times (drabble) *** having sex with bruce for the first time.
p.s. (ficlet) an unfinished note leaves you confused during your college graduation.
restoration (oneshot) after johannesburg, you have nightmares. bruce provides you with comfort.
BUCKY BARNES:
bedside manner (oneshot) sam calls you to say bucky has been hurt on a mission,and you panic.
early hours (oneshot) *** after a mission, all bucky wants to do is crawl into bed with you.
morning grind (drabble) *** morning sex with bucky.
shards of glass (oneshot) *** /// you share a past, and now bucky's tracked you down to find closure.
CLINT BARTON:
after hours (oneshot) *** clint stops by your office after work to distract you the best way he can.
body heat (oneshot) *** /// the there's-only-one-bed trope in the back of an suv during a blizzard.
bound (drabble) *** clint is really into bondage and you're happy to spoil him.
coffee break (ficlet) there's an avenger bleeding in the bathroom of the cafe where you work.
crossroads (oneshot) clint receives an offer that could change his life & you encourage him to take it.
a delicate hand (oneshot) /// clint attempts to pull you out of a funk by helping you get ready for the event.
green light (oneshot) *** /// you surprise clint with a new toy, and he is very eager to try it out.
hey, you (ficlet) *** /// you receive a note from a certain avenger in the middle of a crowded bar.
in the stacks (ficlet) *** you steal a moment of intimacy in the back of a bookshop together.
respite (oneshot) when you’re hurt on a mission, clint has to convince you to take a breather.
think of me (oneshot) *** /// when you're dragged out for a night, clint has an idea of what to do in the club.
three a.m. (oneshot) /// a knock on your window comes from a certain injury-prone avenger.
we could play pretend (oneshot) you bond over all the little things you miss about being in a relationship.
welcome home (drabble) *** you welcome clint home after he's been away on a mission.
JESSICA JONES:
reprieve (oneshot) she has to drag you out of a dingy bar in the middle of the night.
snooze button (drabble) jessica isn't exactly a morning person.
MARC SPECTOR:
fast lane (drabble) *** /// marc gives you a preview in the car of what to expect when you get home.
NATASHA ROMANOFF:
follow my lead (oneshot) natasha offers to teach you how to slow dance.
PETER QUILL:
raincheck (oneshot) /// convincing quill to go to bed isn’t exactly an easy feat.
SAM WILSON:
miss me? (oneshot) you're finally reunited with sam in the middle of the battle of earth.
soul food (oneshot) /// when you’re sick, he ditches his responsibilities just to make you feel better.
STEVE ROGERS:
lost time (oneshot) *** late for your date, steve walks in on you working off your frustrations.
TONY STARK:
afterglow (drabble) *** after care with tony.
as you're told (oneshot) *** /// tony calls you to his office with a new game in mind…
between the sheets (oneshot) *** you've decided to try for a baby, and tony can't wait to get started.
come back to me (oneshot) after tony almost dies, you’re left lost and furious at what just happened.
count (oneshot) *** /// tony is nothing if not a giver. but… he is also a bit of an asshole.
echo (oneshot) /// you’re struggling to forget the past, so you try to bring part of it back to you.
idiot (drabble) *** just an soft, sexy moment between the two of you.
insatiable (drabble) *** the real question is, which one of you is the bigger tease?
mood lighting (ficlet) *** tony spoils you by candlelight.
on your knees (oneshot) *** the idea of having you on your knees is far too tempting for tony to resist.
quick question (oneshot) tony has a question to ask you, battlefield be damned.
red and gold (ficlet) an afternoon in central park lets you appreciate the seasonal color change.
simple pleasures (drabble) *** tony loves nothing more than eating you out.
sober hearts (oneshot) a look at your relationship as it has evolved over the years.
spare key (drabble) *** you give tony a key to your apartment.
subtlety (oneshot) *** impatient, you make use of the ‘emergency stop’ button in the elevator.
warm hands (ficlet) *** the two of you share an intimate interlude out in the snow.
WANDA MAXIMOFF:
hold tight (oneshot) *** /// she loves to spoil you & sometimes that means leaving you a quivering mess.
reflected in you (oneshot) you try on your new uniform, and wanda helps you find your confidence.
spicy sweet (oneshot) *** you plan on surprising wanda, but disaster means a change of plans.
sweetness (oneshot) *** /// wanda loves the way you sound, and doesn’t care who else hears it.
THREESOMES/POLYAMORY:
hands free (oneshot) *** /// you find clint on the phone, and you can’t help but distract him.
player three (drabble) *** /// clint x bucky x you. game night takes a turn when they team up on you to win.
SERIES:
to ashes chapters (full series, this year's chapters in bold) prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - more to come...
tags: @startrekkingaroundasgard @wittyforachange @lovely-dreamer19 @castieltrash1 @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lol-you-thought @sebbystanlover-vk @mikariell95 @csigeoblue @abrunettefangirlnerd @babyblues915 @aar-journey @moistpotatobear @bellamyblakemorley @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @sentimentalalien @agustdowney @akumune @xxboesefrauxx @patheticallysentimental @loki-is-loved @ruderavenclaw @enna-core @hearmyharmony @katsies @youralphawolf72 @whovianayesha @bradfordbantams @alice-the-nerd @ace-fandom-dumbass @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @twsssmlmaa @earth-pig-fish @hallothankmas @meeksmusic83 @fallinginlovewithqueue @justanothermagicalsara @dragon-chica @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @starrynightsforever @baku-writes @sorryurnotbrucebanner
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pumpkinstrawbrew · 9 months
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🆃🅷🅴 🆆🅸⨢.🅲🅷🅸🅽🅶 🅷△🆄🆁.
>>> the grim adventures of jon n' jack. feat batman n' spiderman. <<<
...
it was only a matter of time, before i would have made another crossover with those two. i can't deny, that they are very 1:1 for me, when it comes to comics supervillains. so why not to mix one awesome n' beloved thing with another? esp since funny enough, they do have quite a few similar plot-points. well, the halloween themed costume aside. i mean it goes as far as jack once having the bat-themed boyfriend pal, which reminds me of someone else, i know.
anyho'...
i've tried to make my notes more or less readable here, but they still might be a bit scattered. i attempted to keep them as short as possible, but i just cannot talk 'small'.
1. the first art is low-key based on underdeveloped AU, that i have about the early comic scarecrow n' modern jack meeting n' hitting it off serial killiar style. considering, that both of them possess killing methods, which have a noticable tradmark to it, i imagine that they will leave one hell of a mess behind, while traveling across the country. in that timeline, batman is dead. n' jack's shitty foster dad was killed off earlier on. neither of them knows what to do with themselves, since the people who they had *twisted* emotional conection with are gone. without any direction, they meet in the middle, n' decide that they can as well team-up n' try to make being a villain fun again. jon might experiment on their victims *or torture them if its his ex bullies* n' then give them to jack, who would scoop their brains out and put candle inside their skull. n' uh yeah, he literally did it in the comic. i was honestly surpised that marvel come up with smth that creepy. it really sounds more alined with dc, if anything. but either way, here they are. two *grieving* psychos going downtown. they will make one another so much worse, i imagine. n' they will totally kill that npc dude btw.
2. dark magic n' the drip. or jon n' jack at their corniest. like, jonathan looks like he watched too much the nightmare before christmas n' jack dress up like count dracula for no reason. it's so random-ish n' cheesy. but with this being said, i love both of those designs, n' think, that they really suit the vibe of comic issues in which they were featured. jack always came off as a he-witch to me, but it was nice to see it being played on in a different way. n' then, crane really rocks his own outfit as well. i totally need to draw him in it more often, haha. they dress up for a halloween party for real this time. n' well, i added batman n' spiderman into the mix here, bc i kinda wish that they got to fight / interact with those versions of jon n' jack. it would have been fun for a few reasons. also this can be technically counted as shipping art, but can be viewed as your typical gloating bad guy n' helpless hero thing too. n' to clear any possible questions, i only create stuff with adult peter parker. like cartoon era/late early comics, 20 smth one. i love my spiderman being of age, where he can legally mingle with his villains, not be detained at school lol.
3. the classic four from the timeline, when the comic plots were a bit more ligthearted. aka during the times, when the deadly mercenary n' crazy scientist were robbing banks, instead of harming *torturing* people. i love dark stuff, but there is charm to how 'simple' the scarecrow's and jack's goals once were. n' i love how the scarecrow used to do the lil, dorky dances. it really suits him. n' since at least 2 or maybe, most of jack o' lanterns are southernish in their roots like jon, i had an idea of them having a country dance *in the middle of graveyard* kinda just makes sense to me, haha. batman and spiderman merely happen to find them like that. n' well, it's kinda awkward. esp bc they technically don't do anything bad. i also imagine spiderman being like 'oh, so you have one of those too'. which is mostly a ref to how both the scarecrow n' jack were called 'the reject from land of oz' by other characters. they can rejoice here.
4. the develish & undead duo!! my friend once told me to try n' watch older superhero cartoons, and at first i was like 'welp, they prob be hella boring'. but then i caved in, n' watched a couple of superfriends episodes. as result, i fell in love with their scarecrow's desingh! it was unexpected tbh. usually, i prefer jon's older, classic scarecrow look. so no straw hair, less features exposed, just a hat n' a sack on his head, but their version of him actually did it for me. i find their crane both creepy n' cute. n' i also read on wiki, that he might be undead. so that bit interested me as well. non-human jonathan crane, what a concept! him returning from the grave just to be a menace to batman. n' to accompany him, there is an undead jack o' lantern from the ghost rider comic. his corpse literally got possessed by satan. anyways, both of them raised army of zombies. both of them undead n' prob won't ever get out of their spooky suits, since i don't think that they can. n' funny enough, jack's hometown was called sleepy hollows, if i remember correctly. so they can haunt people there, make it into a truly cursed land.
5. the last one was kinda spontaneous on my part. the other day, i was looking at what kind of action figures the scarecrow n' jack have. saw one, where jon was looking kinda strange, all black n' yellow. which is how i find out that he *apparently* got yellow lantern powers in newer comics, even if it was like for 10 seconds or smth. i didn't read the issue itself, but i found the idea kinda fun, n' his design was decent enough for me to get interested n' wonder what i can do with it. then, a bit later, i saw that jack had a venom-funko figure. i don't think, that he was ever canonically venomized in any of the actual comic issues, but once again, the mere idea of it happening was enough for me to consider doing smth with it. i mean, a venom-like tongue, but its made out of fire? dang. that's kinda cool. so yeah. the yellow lantern scarecrow n' symbiote jack o' lantern being the double trouble. if they weren't enough of a mean goblin-man before, now they surely will be.
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