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honnelander · 8 months

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go fish!

so i fell in love with Sanji just like everyone else. i've never seen the one piece anime or read the manga so i'm solely going off of the live action. i had fun writing this and plan to make this a series of some sorts where it's a fem!reader x Sanji moments of awkwardness, fluff, and mutual pining because i love reading that stuff myself. if anyone has any suggestions or requests for this series please leave a comment or send me an ask!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 1.3k

pairing: opla!sanji x reader

summary: reader and Usopp are playing a card game when Sanji finds them. teasing ensues.

prequel part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

“Care for a refreshment, Madam?” a smooth, deep familiar voice asked to your left, breaking your concentration on the card game in front of you.

“Hm?” you looked up from the cards in your hand and saw the Going Merry’s own chef looking down at you with a crooked, charming smile as he held a chilled glass bottle of water in his hand. “Oh, hey Sanji,” you greeted quickly with your usual smile as you looked back down at your hand. “What’d you say? Go fish Usopp.”

Your opponent across the barrel from you grumbled as he took the top card off the deck sitting between you both.

“I was just asking if the lovely madam sitting here would like a nice, cold refreshment on this particularly hot day?” Sanji asked again with a hint of amusement, his crooked smile deepening as he watched you study your hand once again.

“’Lovely madam’?” Usopp repeated sarcastically, his eyebrows pulling together. “What about offering her super buff, brave, and heroic opponent an ice-cold beverage instead?”

“Nope,” Sanji corrected, popping the 'p'. “Ladies first Usopp. Always.”

Even after knowing Sanji for a couple of months now, his consistent chivalry always managed to make your heart flutter.

You laughed lightly and couldn’t help but smirk as you said with a matter-of-fact, teasing tone, “Just say you wish you were a girl, Usopp. No judgment here.” You paused for a moment before asking, “You got the five of spades?”

“Now even though I would make an extremely attractive, gorgeous woman, I am a man through and through.” A grin broke out on Usopp’s face as he glanced at his hand and triumphantly called out, “Go fish, y/n.”

“Fair enough,” you hummed as you reached for a card. “And yes Sanji, I would love a glass of cold water. Thank you.” You shot a quick look of gratitude the chef’s way as you took a card from the deck.

Sanji placed the two glasses onto your makeshift barrell-table top he was holding in his left hand and started filling up the glasses with water. “Of course. Anything for the missus.”

Missus. Ugh. It made your heart skip a beat to hear him call you that. But you knew he didn’t really mean anything by it. It was just how Sanji spoke, forever the gentleman.

“Oof. If you keep sweet talking like that Sanji, you’re going to even make me blush, just like y/n,” Usopp joked.

Your eyes widened as your eyes snapped to look at your dumbass crewmate and friend sitting across from you. “I- I am not blushing Usopp!” God, if you both were using a real table instead of a barrel right now you would’ve broken his shine with your foot. You really weren’t blushing before but Usopp’s stupid comment definitely made your cheeks heat up now. “It’s the heat,” you hissed.

“’Heat’,” he mocked with air quotes and snorted. “Right.”

“I-” before you could defend yourself, Sanji spoke up.

“Actually,” the blonde chef chimed in with a light laugh as he filled the second glass, “that’s why I came over in the first place. You were looking a little flushed y/n, so I thought you guys could use a cold drink.”

Sanji’s words caused both you and Usopp to look up from your cards simultaneously, making eye contact with each other. A mischievous grin started to form on Usopp’s face as he saw the blush deepen on your face. You quickly looked back to your hand, suddenly finding the eight of clovers card extremely interesting.

Sanji saw you looking flushed? He saw you? From across the deck? From inside the kitchen’s window? He was watching you play cards? The thought of Sanji watching you when you didn’t expect him to made your stomach erupt in butterflies, and it certainly didn’t make your stupid little crush on him go away. Just the opposite. In fact, it just fueled your delusional fantasy even more.

And it certainly didn’t help that the only person who knew about your crush on the head chef just so happened to have a big mouth and loved to tease you about it any chance he got. And that he was sitting right across from you right now, watching all of this unfold right in front of him.

“Oh? So you were watching y/n and I play cards out here?” Usopp innocently asked his blonde crewmate, but you knew better. There wasn’t an ounce of true curiosity in his tone whatsoever.

“Yeah, from the kitchen,” Sanji answered casually as he recapped the glass water bottle.

“Usopp,” you warned.

“And you said that she looked ‘flushed’?” Usopp asked, quirking a brow at the end of his question as he turned his gaze from you to Sanji.

Sanji blinked in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together for a second before looking down at his crewmate. “Yeah...” he said slowly before continuing, “Her cheeks looked a little pink so I figured-”

“Oh?” Usopp asked, his voice becoming louder. “You noticed the color of her cheeks, from that far away?”

“Usopp,” you hissed louder but it fell on deaf ears. Once your friend got on a roll, there was little anyone could do about it. Especially when it came to teasing you about your feelings for Sanji.

“Yeah,” Sanji replied to Usopp’s question with a confused smile. “What are you-”

“GO FISH!” you blurted out loudly, cutting Sanji off and having both men turn their eyes towards you.

“Huh?” Usopp blinked his eyes at you, suddenly remembering the game in front of him. “But I didn’t even ask you anything y/n. And you just drew a card, so it’s your turn to ask me.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the fact that Usopp stopped grilling Sanji with all of those embarrassing questions right in front of you....even though you couldn’t help but perk up at the fact that Sanji in fact had been watching you from the kitchen, and that he was sweet enough to bring you (and Usopp) some water.

“Well, I tried,” you shrugged and lied, “but you just kept yapping so you didn’t hear me. Do you have the Queen of hearts?”

Usopp studied you for a brief moment before looking at his cards, smirking to himself. “You know y/n, it’s funny you asked about the Queen of hearts,” he said as he plucked the requested card from his hand and reached out to give it to you, “since you make heart eyes yourself whenever you look at-”

“GOOD game Usopp!” you practically yelled as you threw your cards down onto the barrel and stood up, hoping your outburst drowned out the name Usopp was about to so stupidly blurt out. You shook his free hand with both of yours as you said, “You totally win my friend.”

“What?” Sanji laughed slightly as he watched you and Usopp shake hands. The poor guy was as confused as ever. “But the game isn’t over.”

You looked Usopp dead in the eye as tightened your grip on his hand. “Oh no, it’s over. He definitely won.”

Yeah, he won alright. He won the game of making your life a living hell and embarrassing you in front of Sanji. He won the gold medal in that game.

“I sure did,” Usopp agreed triumphantly, putting his cards down.

You dropped his hand and took the glass of cold water that Sanji had so generously poured, the cold glass making you feel better already. “Thank you for this Sanji. I think I’ll go enjoy this on my hammock inside.”

You couldn’t bear to look at Sanji, feeling humiliated for no reason with your face on fire, you stepped away from the barrel sipping your water as you made your way across the deck towards the ship’s living quarters.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea y/n!” Usopp called, giddy from the high that could only come from successfully teasing a friend. “Maybe that’ll help calm down your flushed face!”

Before stepping inside, you flipped off a laughing Usopp, completely missing the brief look of disappointment in Sanji’s eyes as he watched you go.

#sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #one piece #one piece live action #opla #one piece fanfiction #sanji fanfiction #fluff #opla fanfiction #i absolutely loved writing this and will write more #have this be a series of some sorts #bc who doesn't love idiots in love?#mutual pining #sanji x y/n #one piece x reader #go fish! au

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punksocks · 2 months

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Astrology Observations: No.28

*just based on my observations, only take what resonates

(Sorry it’s been a minute, I got my time back then I got sick- like same day! I’m good now, thank god, but it was absolutely insane and everything has been going on in the world, my God)

-If your moon opposes your ascendant you may be known for making the wrong impressions on people (especially first impressions) at some point in your life

-Not the first time I said this but I feel like Libra Asc tend to need to balance out aspects of their life more bc of their houses having the opposite signs over them.

-On the other hand I feel like Aries asc have a very straightforward, sometimes less complicated world view bc of their houses lining up with their traditional rulers.

-Mars in determemt and fall (Libra, cancer, 12th house) really gives you a finite amount of stamina

-I feel like cancer venus/moons tend to wax the most poetically and romantically about the nostalgia they feel. Even stronger for Venus.

-Men with cancer placements be like: I didn’t know I was manipulating you into being nice to me until it was already happening (lmao oof)

-I noticed Aries and Scorpio Sun men/masc folks can get romanticized a lot, I think this is bc their identity is ruled by mars traditionally, so they tend to be assigned more masculine traits/act their traits out in a more “traditionally” (or even just comfortably) masculine way

-Aqua Sun/asc/venus usually have some features that makes their face really stand out I noticed (unique brow/nose/head shape etc) (idk why I haven’t seen this with moons as much)

-Signs in your 8th house may come off as mysterious or hard to understand

-You may find it really easy to vibe with people that have Sun conjunct your Asc

-I’ve noticed that a lot of Virgo mars may eat like really spicy or punishing foods (especially if the mars is in a fire house)

-Saturn aspecting your big 3 can help you age really well- depending on how well you take care of yourself (extreme example: dick van dyke, he’s almost 100 and he’s still jumping around with so much energy)

-Pisces placements can be like incredibly intelligent and yet still come off as a bit spacey (one of my favorite YouTubers used to head extra credits and he is SO SMART, like just a seriously huge capacity for knowledge but he sounds spacey when he does his chill gameplays and pieces things together unscripted lol)

-Jupiter square/opposition Sun can make you come off as overly pessimistic, it can also make you come off as optimistic at the wrong times (laughing at serious moments, etc)

-Taurus placements are so motivated by food, it’s so real (the amount of times I’ve had a Taurus sun/moon/mars not hear a word I was saying bc they were scoping out a restaurant? Countless lol)

-I notice a lot of rappers & musicians (especially the innovative ones) have major Pisces placements

-Aries moons get emotional fulfillment by winning what they chase after (Aries in big 6 tends to make you go after things in general too imo)

-I noticed sometimes Leo moon can make you a bit self centered, like in the most literal sense, you may have trouble understanding perspectives outside of your own

-Virgos and Geminis and 3rd/6th house placements have great memory but they tend to forget certain aspects. They tend to forget or mix up details. (My ex took like 3 years to remember my middle name beyond the first initial lol god; also, I always remember zodiac signs but not birthdays lol)

-I love how Joe Pera has a cancer Mercury and his comedy is like the coziest comedy I’ve ever heard, he even got his following bc his helping people fall asleep and just talking through his chill podcast (did not expect him to have like the most fire in his chart tho?? Wouldn’t have guessed lol)- Pisces Mercury and Mercury with hard aspects to Neptune probably have a cozy affect on others when they communicate with them too

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moralesmilesanhour · 11 months

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Can you write something with earth 42 Miles having a s/o who is very affectionate and clingy? Thank you so much have a great day :3

Sure! And you have a good day too 🫶🏾 (reader is coded as feminine here bc I wasn't sure, hope that's okay!)

"You on my leg, ma."

Miles tried to reach for the remote as the credits rolled on your flat-screen.

"I know," you replied, head resting on his left thigh. "I like it here."

"And you'll be right back here. Lemme get the remote!"

He tried tapping your head, and even partially rising from the sofa to force you off of his lap, but you were like a rock.

"I'm tired," was all you said to explain yourself.

Miles sighed, knowing when he'd lost a battle. "Fine."

"Alright, act natural," Miles hissed as Uncle Aaron's heavy footsteps got louder.

He hadn't told his uncle that he was dating anyone yet, a fact that became clear to you when he dropped your hand. Despite his request, his body stiffened, and he hardened his expression into something you'd never seen before.

"Miles, are you good?" You whispered, reflexively rubbing the back of his arm.

Before Miles could snatch his arm away, the door opened, and your bodies froze.

A tall, lanky man a few shades lighter than Miles stood behind it. He was bald, with a goatee peppered with gray hairs and a severe expression.

You took Miles' arm and squeezed it as the man’s eyes landed on you. To your surprise, his expression softened.

"Who's this?" The man asked in an ocean-deep voice.

Miles relaxed and laced his fingers with yours. "This is uh," he breathed, "Y/N, my girlfriend."

As soon as the doorbell rang, you shot up from your couch and threw down the book you were skimming through to answer it.

You nearly flung the door open, revealing Miles' grinning face.

"Y/N, ¿que pasa?- OOF!"

He nearly dropped his phone when you roped him into a suffocating bear hug. "No puedo respirar, mami," he choked out before you finally released him.

"Alright, my bad," you smiled, "I missed you."

"But you saw me yesterday."

"And?"

A/N: pls excuse me if my Spanish is rusty. Hope you enjoyed!

#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderman across the spiderverse #moralesanhour #requests

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gabessquishytum · 3 months

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Hob is the wedding singer hired to perform at Dream's wedding reception(s) (.........each time he's left at the altar.). A 5+1 romcom.

Hob was hired as a joke by Dream's friends for his wedding reception -- Dream's super intense about his romances and all in for getting married (and his parents/family are soooo buttoned up) that a wedding singer like Hob should (hopefully) losen things up.

1. Dream's wedding is called off a week or two before; Hob charges his 75% cancelation fee;

2. Dream is left at the altar this time; Hob sees him in passing. He charges his full rate since he was ready to go and all set up;

3. A pregnant Calliope calls off the wedding the day of, and since the reception venue is attached to where she and Dream were going to be married, she talks Dream into eating cake and dancing with her -- they'll co-parent, but one of them had to be honest about how ill-suited they were for each other. Hob tries to make sure everyone has fun --- and sees Dream for the first time and is smitten by the sad sack pretty man dancing oh so poorly with the hugely pregnant lady;

4. Left at the alter again (and knowing Hob was at the reception venue), Dream's friends (Matthew, Jessamy, Lucienne, Joanna, Cori) drag him to drink and dance to Hob's singing. Hob finally gets to talk to his favorite broken hearted cutey;

5. At this point, Hob and Dream are friends (it took a while for Dream to get with the program) and while Hob really really likes Dream (he loves him so much), Hob could only watch the train wreck of Dream asking another person who doesn't really understand (or love him like Hob) to marry him.

Hob was not hoping for a repeat of the runaway bride/groom (above all he wants Dream to be happy) .....but on the off chance Hob was bad luck for Dream's weddings,,,,,,Hob agreed to sing at the reception; and

+1. Hob refused to sing for his own wedding!! He needs all the good luck he can muster to secure Dream as his husband.

I live for the idea of Hob being like "Hmm. I like this weird little man. Let me study him like a bug. And also marry him."

And listen, Hob prides himself on the fact that all the couples he's sung for have been very successful! Not a single divorce among them! Dream is managing to spoil that record all by himself, and Hob is determined to see this poor wet cat happily settled down.

He pulls out ALL the stops with romantic playlists and backdrops, sexy lighting, the whole shebang. He's never tried so hard to make his set a success, but he's determined to make the ambience perfect for Dream.

And it still doesn't work. Calliope seems like a lovely lady, though. She even thanks Hob for putting in so much effort. And says she hopes to see him at Dream’s next wedding. Oof.

Admittedly at weddings number 4 and 5, Hob is less determined to make the whole thing a success. He's not actively sabotaging them (Dream definitely doesn't need his help in failing to get married)... but he's not exactly sad when he gets to put his arm around the poor abandoned groom and comfort him in his hour of need. At number 5 Dream falls asleep with his head in Hob’s lap while he sings a soft lullaby, and Hob decides right then and there that there will be no more failed weddings. HE is marrying Dream, and he's not going to let anything stop him.

And so he doesn't perform at their wedding (because he's secretly afraid that it might bring bad luck). And they do make it to the altar, and through the vows, and to the reception - without a single hitch. Dream doesn't seem to stop smiling all day, and it's like he can hardly believe it when they cut the cake and have the first dance. Hob catches him pinching himself several times, which is just adorable.

And much, much later, when they finally tumble into bed to enjoy a sleepy, cozy wedding night... Hob sings Dream to sleep with "I do" by ABBA, and they start the rest of their lives together. Hob is determined to regain his record of 100% successful marriages, and he's not letting Dream go!!

#the sandman #dreamling

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liz-allyn · 1 year

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sugar and vice, pt 1 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: I have a meet-cute in a coffee shop. but for mob!peter.

words: 5.5k

warnings: Shameless TASM mob!daddy Peter fantasies, including, but not limited to, kidnapping, knives, bang bang shoot shoot, pining, eventual smut

Part 1

“Just a coffee, black. Biggest ya got.”

Wearily, yet still wired, Peter tapped his fingers on the stainless steel counter. It was late. Or early. Streetlamps still blazed in unholy darkness outside. It had been a long night. But he had felt like he’d been up for years.

Across from him, a young woman wearing overalls and a daisy-yellow bandana gave him a heavy nod. “Sure,” she replied, gravely. “I have to warn you, though. We over-roast our beans. It’s bitter as hell.”

He blinked at her, not expecting such honesty. She had a trusting face. Pretty eyes.

“Ya wanna sweeten it up for me?”

He could hear the lame pickup line of a younger version of himself. One that wore a confident smirk, walked with bravado. One that hadn’t lost what he had lost. The older Peter of today brushed that voice away. “I like bitter.”

He glanced up at her eyes and saw sympathy. “Oof, tragic,” she frowned, shaking her head teasingly, her coyness peeking through. She retrieved a paper cup and filled the dark liquid to the brim.

The personalness of it threw him off. Peter had wandered in like a zombie. He only briefly heard her ask for his order and his name, both of which he gave, and he expected nothing in return but the coffee. He watched her carefully, shifting uncomfortably. He was the only customer in the shop at this hour, but he didn’t expect to be seen.

“Here you go,” she declared, handing the cup over. “One large black graveyard dirt, extra tears.”

It wasn’t so much the joke, rather the way she beamed when she said it. It was like sunlight peeking through the curtains just right, casting a familiar space in an ethereal glow.

She glowed.

Seeing it awakened his senses. He felt the way flowers must feel, desperately reaching their petals out toward the sun after they’d been neglected through a long, dark winter.

Before he knew it, he was smiling back. Teeth bared, eyes crinkled, grinning like a fool. He thought his muscles couldn’t remember what smiling felt like. It ached.

She reached out, extending the cup towards him. But it was so much more than that.

His gaze darted from her sparkling eyes, to the curve of her mouth, back to the apples of her cheeks—

“Thanks for stopping by, Ben!”

The illusion vanished, as did his smile. He pulled away, staring at the stainless steel countertop for a moment. He thanked her and took the cup from her hand, dropping a couple of bucks in the jar. He didn’t spare her another glance as he turned on his heel.

For a moment there, he felt free. He’d forgotten what he was underneath the leather gloves, thick cashmere coat, the bitter coffee, and the fake name.

His hand found the door, the winter chill penetrating his glove. Just as he began to push it open, he heard a shout.

“Wait!”

He did, glancing back at her, against his better judgment.

“I forgot to tell you,” she said, almost shrinking into herself with a sheepish expression. She blushed at the eagerness and volume of her own voice. “To have a great day.”

He blinked, brow creased.

“It’s, uh, sorry— it’s stupid,” she rolled her eyes, slapping her palm across her forehead. “But I’m… I’m supposed to say ‘have a great day’ and I always forget, maybe ‘cos I’m a little ADHD, and my boss always reminds me that I need to say it every time, but that’s awkward, right? Like it needs to come up in conversation, I can’t just blurt it. I mean, I can. Like, I just did. But that was weird, right? It was weird. And sometimes, I’m thinking about the next 3 things I have to do, or the thing I just did and I get… I don’t know, a little lost in the moment, and then it passes, and then I felt like I missed out, y’know?”

He stared. “No?”

“On saying what I want really to say,” she said with a voice full of warmth—gentle and genuine in tone. Her babbling ceased as she emphatically declared. “I really hope you have a great day. You deserve it.”

There it was again. That smile. Sincerity and kindness sliced through him like a razor. He was a child again, getting a kiss on the cheek from his mother. Her cheerful gaze lit him up inside, like setting off a roman candle beneath his ribs. It wrapped him in a firm embrace, filling him, shielding him, and grounding him all at once.

This time, he couldn't look away. Didn't want to. He waited until he could hear the flutter in her heart. He was smiling again.

“Thank you. I think I will.”

And as if she’d cast some sort of spell, he did. The way she enchanted him, he was certain if they lived 400 years ago they might accuse her of witchcraft. He always had a good day when he saw her. No matter how painful, or dirty, or bloody. She became his good luck charm. His ability to ‘have a good day’ became entirely dependent on seeing her.

He shouldn’t go back there. He should try the Starbucks down the street. But he couldn’t help it.

She’d pour him basic drip coffee, announcing aloud to the whole shop as she handed it to him. “Here you go! Extra large, extra-hot dark roast, with extra-darkness and a splash of angst.” There was affection in her gaze despite the sarcasm of her voice.

“One extra large coffee, black as the devil’s soul.” She’d whisper to him privately, gifting him with a good-luck smile, even when the coffee shop was full of people during the morning rush. In those moments, she made him feel like they were the last two people on the planet. And it always made something in his belly flutter.

“I have an extra-black ‘Fault in Our Stars,’ with a shot of ‘The Road’ for my friend in the suit!”

Her friend. He couldn’t help but blush. How could he come to this place every day, stand in line, and feel like he was coming home? She was magic.

The coffee really was awful.

“Let me know if you ever want me to sweeten that up for you,” she graciously suggested, as the cup left her fingers. The brush of her fingertips against his felt like wildfire. Her comment was innocent, but his mind wasn’t. “I think I can make it taste better—I have some window cleaner left.”

He was smiling again. It blossoms into something reciprocal. That should be enough. He shouldn’t be greedy. He should walk away now. He should run.

“What would you suggest?” he asked coyly. It was the first time he had ever done so.

A million saccharine-infused terms of endearment flowed through his mind—sweetness, sugar, gumdrop, sweetheart, sweetie, cookie, peach, muffin, angelcake—most of them were trash. (Really, Parker? What is this, high school? Whaddya doin’? You ever talk to a woman before? Why do you sound like somebody’s grandpa? Such a creepy —

Some of them weren’t appropriate between friends. None of them appropriate coming from a stranger.

That’s what he was, deep down. God, this precious girl—she was so trusting. Was she friendly like this with everyone? No, he had noticed as time went on. She’s warm and kind to everyone she meets. But not like this. Not the way she is for him.

“Ooh, getting adventurous, are we?” she teased him, stars in her eyes.

For him. All he could do was stare back in awe at the Milky Way in her gaze. He would follow them and venture on any journey where they may lead.

“How do you feel about lavender and honey?”

Flowers and sugar for Brits and fancy people. He quirked his brow at the concept. “In coffee?”

Her eyes twinkled with excitement, as she spun around and began her concoction.

For him.

He needed to leave. But he followed the length of her arms, the delicacy of her fingers, the way her hips moved as she danced around her workstation. He was hypnotized again.

He imagined dancing with her. Letting her body flow and wrap around his like curtains billowing in the breeze. He barely registered that she was holding a new cup out toward him. While he was daydreaming, she had written his name on the cup and drew a little heart next to it.

He stared at it. It’s not exactly his name. But it’s the one he’d given her. And in return, she had given him so much.

He took the cup from her hand and couldn’t help but feel like he was undeserving of her kindness. Or her attention. Or her heart.

“Don’t make that face,” she softly admonished as if she could read his mind, or she might have read his sad look as disproval of her efforts. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

She gave him a smile. She gave and gave and gave. Gave him a reason to keep living. She didn’t even know.

He took a sip. It warmed his tongue, his throat, his heart. It ached.

“S’good,” he hummed, honestly surprised. He was telling her the truth. He reached for his wallet with his free hand, retrieving a wad of bills. He always paid in cash.

She waved him off, mock offense on her face. “No, silly. That’s not how gifts work!” Her laugh sounded like church bells.

She was a gift. For him. His flower. His Honey.

“This one’s on the house,” she assured him, as he hesitantly lowered his wallet. She whispered low, in a tone that burned him up inside. “It’ll be our secret.” His mind felt like it was rebooting. She said it innocently, but he was anything but. She scoffed with a flippant laugh, “Just don’t tell my boss, okay?”

Her boss. He knew about her boss. Tod. With one ‘D’.

Some mornings, particularly Monday through Thursday, he’d see the pencil-like man stiffly pacing the back of the bar while she and another young girl kept up with demand. Hawkish eyes, always watching. Always judging. Rarely picking up a milk jug himself.

He dominated the register. Peter hated handing him cash. His face reminded him of a cheese grater if it could look unhappy. “Are you sure you don’t want a pastry?” he offered the ‘add-on’ with what was supposed to be a smile.

Peter’s eyes shot over to his Honey as she was artfully pouring foam, adding her magic to someone else’s cup. She refused to look at Peter and he hated it. It reminded him of a defense tactic. Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away. As if he was a prized possession that she wanted to hide away from Tod, who might accuse her of having ‘favorites.’

It stirred wild emotions to be thought of that way, especially by her.

How dare her boss accuse her of any wrongdoing. How dare he threaten her.

“I’m fine,” said Peter, with a chill he hoped Tod could feel.

He needed to leave.

He needed to take his Honey and his Lavender Latte and just go.

He shook his head. His brain was lagging again. He turned away from the straight-backed scarecrow before a robotic ‘thank you for being a customer’ could be responded to.

Peter waited. Eyes on the floor. Eyes on the exit. Eyes on the windows. Eyes on her, but only briefly. He waited and daydreamed bitterly, waiting for her to call out a name that wasn’t his.

“Honey Lavender Latte,” his enchantress called out. Hearing her voice caught him from his downward spiral. He made eye contact with her as he took the cup from her hands. Warmth radiated from her eyes, although muted. It was enough to soothe and comfort him.

She blushed, sheepishly, unable to contain the smile in her voice. “Have a lavender-ly day.”

His mood lifted. Such a silly girl. Witchcraft, indeed. “Thanks, Honey,” he replied, without thinking.

Her big eyes widened for a moment, and her heart quickened. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked away, unsuccessfully hiding her teeth.

Peter would call her that a million times in a row if it would elicit that reaction.

“Have a great day,” Tod interrupted, murdering the moment.

Poor girl. She cowered slightly, like a dog hearing the word ‘no.’ She took a breath and put on a smile, turning back towards her work.

Tough girl. She didn’t need Peter to defend her.

He glanced over at Tod with a deadpan expression, and walked out of the shop before he did or said anything else stupid.

The world was full of Tods. It was also full of monsters. Sometimes Peter was one of them. No Tod was truly worth his attention.

Except for that one time.

A Tuesday morning in the middle of the holiday shopping season. Peter stood in line patiently, arms crossed, gritting his teeth. He glowered behind the bar at Tod, standing too close to his Honey. She gazed up at her boss helplessly, watching him turn red in the face, as the flagpole of a man waved his arms wildly. Clearly agitated, he kept his volume low but his body language screamed at her.

“What I need your help with is this,” Tod hissed as he towered over her. “I need you to tell me what is the best method for getting information into your head. How can I communicate with you in a way that you’ll understand?” His voice was soft although he flailed like a wavy-arm inflatable man in a car lot.

“Tell me honestly,” he sneered, dressing her down in front of a line of customers. At this point, Peter didn’t need any superpowers to be able to hear the conversation. She visibly fought the urge to cry. “Do I need to write it down? Do I need to scream at you? Do I need to throw something? Do I need to take you aside and have an hour-long conversation?” She kept her eyes on the ground as he kept pelting her with icicles. “Tell me your preference here. What is it that you’ll respond to?”

The scene came to an abrupt end when the glass of the shop window shattered. The sound silenced him finally. The front door swayed limply, having been yanked off its hinges and slammed into its frame. His Honey glanced around the shop with concern.

Peter was no longer there.

He didn’t come back that day.

Neither did Tod.

Some sort of accident, his Honey told him the following week, although he already knew the details. She explained to him why the shop had a new manager, a well-composed woman named Leyla. By the airiness of her mood, he could tell she greatly preferred Leyla’s managerial style.

She was happy, and that made him happy.

And that should be enough.

He should leave. He should run. Get as far away from her as possible.

But he was intoxicated by her. Drunk on her sweetness and her Honey Lavender Lattes.

He looked at her like she was the queen of the hive. He’d let her take that crown, any anything else she could ever want, if he had the chance. He’d worship her. He already looked at her like she was a goddess. The devotion in his honey-tinted eyes was clear to anyone who bothered to look.

“Peter Parker!”

Hearing his real name while he stood grinning like a fool in front of his Honey one afternoon made him flinch, sending a shiver up his spine. He turned around, yanked from his reverie, watching three men stroll into the shop.

He positioned his body in front of her, obscuring her from their view. His hands were tight balls at his sides.

Peter was familiar with two of the faces, but razor-sharp focused on the mountain in a suit they called Filch. He’d seen that greasy face more times than he’d want to admit, shrouded in darkness and cigar smoke. Seated at the hand of Wilson Fisk.

His jaw locked in place.

Filch looked overjoyed to see him. Like they were old friends. Like Peter didn’t know that Wilson Fisk was plotting to move against him.

“I thought that was you!” he brightly exclaimed. He strolled through the shop, like a cheetah stalking prey. Removing a hat and revealing what little hair he had left underneath. “Long way from Queens. Fancy finding ya all the way out here, eh?”

Peter knew better. The only surprise in this situation was intended for Peter. He’d been followed here. Watched.

His spine went rigid, shoulders into stone.

Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away.

He could hear her heart flutter faster behind him. As if she could sense the way he bristled when they arrived. Trouble in her kingdom. A disturbance to the delicate sanctuary she had built, like all of her totems and protection spells were wearing out.

Peter kept his back to her. He kept his eyes trained on the three men, who spread out in a familiar pattern. They were scoping the place. Checking for cameras, other patrons, and all possible exits.

Don’t look at the thing you want—

“Hey, Sugar, it’s cold outside,” Filch called out, with all the grace of flagging down a hooker. “Whaddya got to warm us up?”

Peter stared straight ahead. Glaring. Fuming.

“Might I suggest the coffee?” his Honey answered. “Just made a fresh pot of the dark roast. It’s good.”

He might have cracked a smile if he wasn’t busy envisioning a scenario where he’d have to kill the three men in the room with just the tools available in a coffee shop.

“Pour me a cuppa that,” Filch replied, his eyes never leaving Peter’s.

Peter only slightly relaxed when he felt her presence back away behind the bar. She grabbed a paper cup and filled it with steaming-hot tar. She set the cup down on the counter and backed away, minding her workstation. “That’ll be $2.50.”

Good girl, Peter thought. He saw Filch go for his breast pocket.

“I gotcha,” Peter cut in before Filch could move closer. He grabbed the cup and handed it over to his rival’s lapdog. “‘S’on me.”

Filch eyed Peter cautiously, reaching out where both hands could be visible. He took the cup with exaggerated gratitude. “No, I couldn’t possibly—”

“I said I gotcha,” Peter firmly cut him off, the cords in his neck going tight. Peter retrieved a few bills from his coat pocket, never breaking eye contact with his opponents. “We good here?”

Too many seconds passed with no response. He could feel the twitch of his pulse in his throat. Filch’s eyes drifted back behind the counter. He was too close to her. He studied her in a way that was far too intimate. It made Peter’s skin crawl.

“We’re good,” Filch replied. A smile curved his lips. He held the cup up, toasting him. “Have a great day.”

Peter swallowed hard as the three men sauntered out. He watched them go, his stomach sinking, bile rising.

They’d been watching him alright. Who knows how long. He’d been a patron of this shop and he would order from this girl and stare at her with doe-eyes and hearts swirling around his head, out in the open where anyone could see. And they did see. He showed his hand and now the game was over.

“Who’s Peter?” he heard her voice softly ask.

The illusion was shattered. He turned his head, but couldn’t bear to look at her. He felt sick. Empty. Furious. Petrified.

The monsters were gone now. But they’d be back.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, as he walked out of the door.

They’d be back. He’d be there first.

She watched her favorite customer disappear into the night, her eyes wide with longing as she followed him. He disappeared in a few blinks of her eyes.

Something unsettling crawled beneath her skin. Maybe it was longing, but she was familiar with longing. This was new.

Her hands were shaking and she wasn’t sure how that happened either. One minute she was staring into his dreamy, honey-hued eyes, then the next he was running in the other direction. Not unlike their first meeting, a scene which she replayed over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what made him go so rigid.

Who’s Peter?

Peter Parker.

She repeated his name in her mind, reciting it like a mantra. She wasn’t great with names, but he told her his name was Ben on that first morning so many months ago, and she made a point to remember his name, and to say his name, because people liked it when you said their name, it made them feel closer to you and she wanted more than anything to be close to him.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her wheels were spinning again. She used her thumb to push down hard on the center of her opposite palm. The dull pain grounded her back to reality.

When she opened her eyes, she half expected him to be there. He always seemed to show up when she least expected it. He was a bright spot in her day, despite his gloomy demeanor. He could be dark as a raincloud, but she loved dancing in the rain.

Or as her co-worker Nasrin teased her one day, he was her “tall, dark, hot cup of coffee.” She hid her face in her hands as Nasrin got to the “sucking him down with a straw” part of the analogy. She was incredibly grateful that he had been standing by the door, and there’s no way he could’ve heard that.

Now she had a first name and a last name and a... another name? And a place — you’re a long way away from Queens. A quick Google search of the names in question pulled up too many generic results. There was a dated article about a Ben Parker who was killed in an armed robbery, but her tall, dark friend couldn’t have had anything to do with that.

It twisted her stomach when she considered the fact that she really didn’t know him. She didn’t know who those guys were, and by the looks of things, she didn’t want to know. She should just drop it.

She did the best she could to keep busy, but there weren’t any more customers after that. She sent a quick text to her new manager that she wasn’t feeling well, and closed the shop early. She took the subway home.

Once she got on the train, she didn’t make it back to the platform. It was late, but the subway car was still unusually empty, save for a couple of randos sitting at the opposite end of her car. Any other night, the near-solitude would’ve been a blessing. Tonight, something felt off.

Twenty minutes into her ride, just as the train was about to cross the river, it jerkily slowed to a stop. Her cessation of movement stirred her. Her head popped up from the glow of her phone screen curiously. She worried her lower lip as she glanced at the doors and windows, as if she could somehow see whatever it was that was stopping the train.

She jolted as she felt a hand clamp down on her upper arm. Startled, she looked up at the two other occupants of the train car, now standing inches behind her. Two men that had been seated quietly, also seemingly distracted by their phones.

“Come on, sweetie pie,” one of them said, towering over her. “It’s time to go.” She didn’t recognize either of them, but her instincts reminded her of the altercation in the coffee shop. These two had the same ‘goonlike’ look.

She tried wrenching her arm away, but the stranger held tight. “Get off,” she hissed. His partner on the left took her other arm, albeit more gently.

“Hey, take it easy,” the other man admonished. “No need to be rude.”

“Yeah, we’re friends,” the first man added, with a greasy smile. Her eyes darted around frantically. Panic set in as she realized she was alone in the subway car. The doors slid open, but there was no platform. Instead, the doors opened to building rooftops. The train had stopped on an elevated track above the street.

“Let’s go,” the gruffer man beckoned, grabbing her arm more tightly. He dragged her through the doorway, on a dark walkway next to the tracks. As soon as he lifted her, she erupted into a fit of screams. She kicked her legs, shrieking for help, but no reply came. She didn’t know if no one could hear her, or if people knew better not to respond.

“Keep it down,” one of the goons ordered coldly, dragging her along. She desperately resisted, letting her legs drop out beneath her.

She heard a hiss and pop as the subway train sprang back to life behind them. She watched helplessly as it pulled away.

“A wild one, aren’cha?” the red-haired roughneck tutted, yanking her back up to her feet. “Be a good girl or I’ll throw ya over my shoulder.”

She tried jerking away again, but halted as she faced the edge of the walkway. The dizzying height stunned her into submission. Her knees began to lock up, trembling with fear.

“Take it easy, Katz,” the man’s partner chided him, albeit insincerely. The two of them practically carried her down the walkway. “You’re scarin’ her.”

They arrived at an old set of metal stairs leading to the street below. The sharp, steep grade of the steps made her vertigo even worse.

“No, help! Somebody help!” she hollered, wrapping her fingers in a death grip around the banisters and anything else she could reach.

“Keep your mouth shut!” the red-head called Katz snapped at her. He reached around and tried to put his beefy hand on her mouth, but she bit down on his flesh the second his fingers reached her lips.

“Ow!” he roared. “Bitch!”

She saw him rear back his fist. Then she saw nothing.

When she came to, her whole body ached. Every muscle throbbing, like she’d been twisted into a pretzel. Her eyelashes fluttered open. Flickering flourescents stung her eyes. Bleary, she gazed around in a dreamlike state until her senses slowly started to awaken.

She tasted glue. And blood. Took heavy humid breaths through her nose. She was on her side, on a concrete floor in a garage she didn’t recognize. The smell of motor oil and cleaning solution stabbed her nostrils. She gazed up at the shadowy, filthy undercarriage of a Rolls Royce lifted high up above her. Loud bangs jarred her out of slumber further. She faintly wondered who would be jackhammering—

Loud pops. Gunfire.

Her body went rigid, then sprung to life in terror. Attempting to open her mouth to scream, she realized that it was taped shut. Even slight movements of her jaw stung her flesh. She tried to sit up. Her arms tingled, like her limbs had fallen asleep. When she tried to move them she felt a sharp sting on her wrists.

Alarm started to take hold. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. She glanced down and passed her dirty, blood-stained shirt to the duct tape wrapping her ankles. It might as well have been iron. Her wrists were also firmly bound behind her. Trying to pull them on them felt like ripping off her own skin. She whimpered excruciatingly.

The sounds were getting closer. She glanced around, eyes begging for help. Searching frantically for any reprieve amidst the scattered car parts and junk.

The gunfire was getting closer.

She scooted, inching her way across the floor until she reached a work table. She was lining her spine up against the table leg when the garage door rattled open. She was out of time. A spill of light from outside lamps flooded in, blinding her. She could only vaguely recognized her own shrieks behind the wall of duct tape.

A group of people stood at the garage doors with their backs to the light. She watched their imposing silhouettes with horror.

A tall, male form approached her, his long black coat trailing behind him. Tears that she couldn’t contain sprang from her eyes. She was trapped, terrified, like a rabbit staring down a wolf. All she could focus on was the gun in the man’s hands as he stalked toward her. She squeezed her eyes closed, waiting to hear a final shot that would end her life.

“Easy, easy,” a familiar, deep, and soothing voice rolled over her. “Shh, don’t be scared, Honey.”

Her breath hitched. Eyes popped open.

Crouched down to her eye level was her tall, dark, and bitter friend. Ben—Peter—whatever his name was— the moment she recognized his soft chocolate eyes and the scattering of a peppery beard on his otherwise boyish face, she felt a wave of relief.

His leather glove still held firmly onto a pistol. The sight of it dropped her back to reality. Like a bucket of ice water being poured over her body. She shuddered as he scooted closer.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he placated with a calm voice. “You’re okay.”

She wanted to believe him. He set his gun down on the concrete floor and reached for her with both hands. Another sound of a distant gunshot made her jolt. She recoiled away from his touch, shrinking herself up against the table leg.

He flinched at her reaction with a pained expression, as if she’d stabbed him. His hands faltered for a moment.

A man’s voice rang out from the group lingering behind, a youthful tone from someone barely older than a teenager. “Boss, we gotta go!”

A deeper voice called out in response, “C’mon, Pete. The calvary’s on the way. Get her on her feet! ”

Her eyes widened, tears streaming down her face. He stared back at her, his expression turning grim. She gazed up at her savior to realize that this was no true rescue.

A sickly feeling crept over her as she put the pieces together. Whatever this was, whatever was happening, whatever had happened to her—it was because of Peter.

Her tall, dark, and dangerous stranger. He grabbed her by the hips, scooting her closer. She wailed as he scooped her body up in her arms, dizzy with how fast and effortless it seemed. He carried her like a toddler having a tantrum, except she was restrained already.

Peter said nothing as he carried her out of the garage, barely looking at her, as he marched towards an idling, blacked-out SUV. She barely had time to spot the driver, a gorgeous woman with long silver hair.

She smirked at her, eyes sinister.

When the SUV finally came to a halt, all she knew is that they were in an underground parking garage. Her limbs felt heavy, the assault of adrenaline starting to take its toll. Few words were spoken during the car ride, and none to her. Thick tension filled the air.

She was on the floorboard, her cheek pressed up against the carpet. She gazed at the feet of two men seated in the back. One of them was the fresh-faced teenager she heard calling Peter ‘Boss.’ His name was Miles, she had heard. The other was a rugged, haunted-looking man, with large dark eyes fixed on the windows, ever watchful. Miles called him Miguel, before the older man shot him a look to stay quiet.

“That’s the unifying issue with the men in this car,” the woman driving the SUV snarked. “You all talk too much.”

Her heart hammered at the glint of a knife. Miguel opened a switchblade, grabbing her ankles.

“Whoa, hang on,” Miles talked to her—the first one to do so. “He’s gonna cut the tape, just so you can move your legs, okay?”

She gazed up at his soft dark eyes, her own still welling with tears. She felt the release on her legs give way as she kicked the rest of the tape off.

“Lights out,” a cold, distant voice ordered. The sound came from the front passenger seat, where Peter sat in tense silence.

Both Miles and Miguel seemed to hesitate, glancing at each other.

“You sure?” Miles questioned.

“He didn’t stutter,” the silver-haired woman replied, definitively. There was a bite in her voice, but it carried with it a tiredness filled with frustration. She sounded more like an older sister jabbing a younger sibling.

The woman popped open her door to get out. “Let’s go, boys. We got groceries inside.”

The world went black again. A dark hood was thrown over her head, obscuring her view.

Continue to Part 2

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aestheticpearl · 1 year

Note

Can you do one and they surprise Y/N by coming home early from a mission? Xx

hello again my love, i apologize for how long this took forgive me <3

— ‘oh you’re back…YOU’RE BACK!’

characters. rooster, hangman, phoenix, bob, payback, fanboy, coyote

themes. fluff

[summary] they surprise you by coming home early from their deployment

[warnings] not proof read (i’m lazy)

❥ bradley “rooster” bradshaw

it had been a whole day since bradley had last texted you and he had missed your routine phone call that is always scheduled for seven so needless to say you were worried. you texted him asking if he meant to miss the phone call and he only responded a hour later with ‘busy.’ which provided no comfort whatsoever.

you were doing your best to distract yourself by folding laundry when you came across one of his old sleep shirts. it was a concert tee that he had gotten at the first concert you went to as a couple, you could help but stare at it for a little too long when your eyes started pooling with tears. gosh why is being always from him is long still so hard? you should be use to it.

“we should go to another one of their concerts, i still really like their music” you know that voice, you body moves on it’s own as you turn away to see him standing there smiling like an absolute idiot at you in the doorway.

“surprise!” he drops his bag and opens his arms for you and you happily run into him, only crying a little totally not sobbing. “aww baby you miss me that much?”

“you missed our scheduled phone call you dick” you laughs at your remark.

“i was hoping this would make up for it”

“only a little” he shakes his head and holds your face in his hands while you kisses you.

“i missed you”

“okay you’re forgiven” you are a sucker for coming home kisses.

❥ jake “hangman” seresin

exhausted didn’t even begin so describe how you felt after your shift at work, it’s like there isn’t even a busy season it’s just always busy. you open the front door after struggling with the lock for longer than you care to admit, it’s empty since jake is still deployed over seas. you throw your bag and jacket on the couch and it responds with an oof.

“shh i have a headache” you responded without thinking too tired to register that your couch just talked— well made sound not really talked per say. wait couches don’t talk. “wait..”

“did you just shush me?” jake asks turning on the light next to the couch. you turn around and try to process the fact that he’s here in the house like right now with you not over seas. you run to him and basically pin him down to the couch with your body as you hug him tightly.

“you’re home. you’re here like actually here” you say burying your face into his neck.

“thought it would be a nice surprise. i’m a little concerned on how long it took you to register that someone was in the house though.”

“long day, you’ve made it so worth it”

“aww pumpkin” he kisses you gently while you hold his face. “i missed you too”

❥ natasha “phoenix” trace

you never realize how much you hang out with someone till they’re gone and you know that sounds like natasha is dead, but she might as well be she you don’t get to see her. honestly it sucks having an amazing pilot as a girlfriend cause she’s always busy when deployed cause she’s the best. curse her incredible skill and hard work.

as sappy as it sounds you love looking through your photos with her when she’s away, sure it makes you feel sad but also makes you look forward to seeing her again. when she’s away you like to try to plan a date for when she gets home and when she told you that she’d be coming home in a couple of months you wanted to getting started sooner rather than later.

so after you come home from your quick trip to the store you find natasha standing in the house with flowers in hand smiling that beautiful smile right at you and at first you’re truly too stunned to speak.

“surprised much?” she places the flowers down on the table beside her. “i just missed you so much i had to come home early” you’re still in shock, then you snap yourself out of it and run into her arms.

“i am so surprised, i missed you so much”

you hugs her tightly and you both fall into a comfortable silence once she kisses the side of your head. until you break it with a gasp.

“i didn’t have time to get all the ‘welcome home’ date stuff” she laughs.

“i can wait a little longer for the ‘welcome home’ date”

❥ robert “bob” floyd

bob is awful at keeping secrets and even worse at executing surprises but he was determined to have this surprise for you be successful, so much so that he had natasha get you out of the house just a little so he could set up flowers he bought down the street and some romantic candles.

you were a tiny bit confused on why natasha asked you to go grocery shopping with her but you had nothing else to do and you love her company so you didn’t mind in the end. little did you know that natasha had to make up an excuse to get you out of the house for at least and hour or two so bob could set up and the first thing that came to her mind was grocery shopping. she didn’t need to go grocery shopping yet here she was standing with you in the produce section wondering which apples to get.

“so granny smith? no no macintosh” you roll your eyes. you love hanging out with natasha but she was really hung up on which apple to buy and it had almost been a half hour.

“nat, it’s an apple”

“okay but they’re all so different” she replies back praying in the back of her mind that bob is almost done and by the grace of the almighty she receives a text for the all clear.

“you know you’re right this is a waste of time who needs food let’s go” she takes your arm and drags you out of the store entirely to your surprise.

“wait what i thought you needed to—”

“let me bring you home” you are baffled at your friends out of character actions but let her do her thing anyhow. when you get home your jaw is on the floor with everything that bob has set up.

“ta da! how’d i do? i kept a secret for once.” he smiles at you happily. you run into his arms and hug him tightly.

“oh my god baby you actually surprised me” he laughs and kisses you gently while waving off phoenix who was standing in the doorway.

❥ reuben “payback” fitch

reuben wanted to see how long you could go without noticing that he was home, not one of his brightest ideas really specially since you had just watched a horror movie the previous night.

he arrived back early in the morning and unlocked the door to your house quietly and went to the hall closet to put his things out of sight so you wouldn’t see them and instantly realize he was home. before long he heard you wake up start to make your way downstairs. he carefully placed down some flowers in the kitchen table and hide behind the door.

you woke up with an awful headache and just felt in your bones that today wasn’t going to be good, nevertheless you walked downstairs to the kitchen to make some breakfast alone. being half asleep you didn’t even notice the roses placed on the table until you turned around and reuben was behind you.

the scream you let out could’ve broken glass.

“baby baby relax it’s just me!”

“REUBEN!” you tried to calm your breathing. “i am going to kill you”

“i’m sorry i’m sorry!” he feels awful but he can’t help but laugh at your reaction a bit. “baby i’m sorry” his hand takes yours as you scowl at him. he kisses your cheek multiple times while apologizing.

“you are so lucky that i missed you”

❥ mickey “fanboy” garcia

believe it or not mickey decided against surprising you in a big way, he was far too tired. when mickey got home to you it was very late at night and he just wanted to hold you. placing his bag quietly down on the edge of the bed, he stripped off his uniform and glances over to you sleeping soundly in bed.

“my love” he whispers softly has you feel him climb into bed with you.

“mickey?” your voice is scratchy then you expected.

“hey baby” he pulls you into his arms. “i’m sorry i took so long” he kisses the side of your head and then your nose.

“i missed you”

“i missed you too, now go back to sleep you can process that i’m here in the morning”

“mmm okay” you feel sleep take hold of you once again as you close your eyes. you think about how mickeys finally home and a warmth spreads across your chest. he’s home with you.

you move your hand to hold mickeys and squeeze it gently before kissing it softly. he chuckles quietly.

“goodnight honey”

❥ javy “coyote” machado

“javy?”

“ta da!” javy stands in the doorway with his arm opened.

“javy!” you shout booking it across the living room into his opened arms. “you’re back so early!”

“i wanted to surprise you of course” he squeezes you tightly and takes in your scent.

“you smelling me again weirdo?”

“..no” you laugh at his hesitation. javy has always had this weird thing about how you smell, he says it’s comforting and he wishes it was a candle that he could light. you call him a weirdo.

“you weirdo!”

“okay okay, yes but i missed you and you smell amazing!” you chuckle at him.

“i missed you too” he pulls away to look at you and moves some hair out of your face to kiss you gently. his kisses always have made you feel weightless. gosh you missed his kisses so much and him i guess.

before you can be completely lost in your own thoughts javy scoops you up to take you to the bedroom so you can show him how much you truly missed his kisses.

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

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sirfrogsworth · 5 months

Text

Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day 2: Electric Boogaloo

So, the plan was to have my one productive day and then rest for however long the consequences of post exertional malaise decide they want to take.

But I needed to bring the working key fob back to the tire place so they could calibrate the tire pressure sensors. So, the day after my day, I napped until about 4pm and summoned the last bit of energy I had to finish this task.

After they fixed the sensors, I looked out over a beautiful sunset in the Discount Tire parking lot.

It's weird the places you find beauty sometimes.

I was about a mile away from my family's favorite pizza place. We've been going there since I was a tadpole. So I decided to grab a pizza as my Thanksgiving meal.

I didn't realize that the day before Thanksgiving would be just about the busiest night of the year. And they have the world's worst parking lot, half of which is a steep hill, and they didn't have enough spaces.

Google Maps has flattened the appearance of the hill. That thing is nearly a 40 degree angle. If anyone with a sports car wants a pizza, they are going to scrape their paint trying to get it.

So, I tried to park around back. Unfortunately someone was exiting the back parking lot and there is only one lane.

So... I backed up... into a pole.

I was going extremely slow and I barely tapped it. But I still felt pretty stupid. Thankfully no scratches or dents.

I finally find parking and head inside.

The Italian kitsch is always a "welcome" sight.

Every time I look it takes me like 10 seconds to figure out the configuration of his face. I find it is best to look at the mustache first, and then orient yourself from there.

I head to the counter and she asks for my name, assuming I am picking up a phone order. I explained I was just "dropping in" and then she gave me an "oof" face. The wait was nearly two hours. I told her I could get a few things from the grocery store and return for my pizza. She charges my card and I hop back in my car. Just as I was about to exit the parking lot of doom, a customer from Angelo's starts yelling at me.

"You forgot your card!"

Clearly my brain fog is starting to get to me. I left my damn bank card on the counter. So I have to exit the parking lot, drive into another parking lot, turn around, and then park again. I retrieved my card and headed to Nice Schnucks.

The GPS took me on a wild journey to the NS. I've lived in this area for 40 years and I had no idea some of these roads existed. I'm sure it was 3 minutes faster or whatever, but I think I would have preferred a route with streetlights. Unlit streets give me a bit of anxiety. Especially if I don't know them.

I get to NS and realize I was about to have the same problem I did at the pizza place. It was the night before Thanksgiving and the entire neighborhood was scrambling to get food for the next day.

I filled up on soups, frozen pizzas, and I got a few more bottles of my beloved soda. There is a Shirley Temple flavor I have yet to try. (Update: A rare Fitz's fail. Tasted like cough medicine.) And then I headed to the madness of the self-checkout.

I managed to kill about an hour, but my legs were getting wobbly. I really shouldn't have gone back out this soon. And I probably should have just headed home after the car was fixed. But I feared if I didn't do *something* special for Thanksgiving I would probably have a difficult time being all alone.

I head back to Angelo's. This time I was able to park in front and avoid hitting any poles.

The pizza was cooking and needed another 15 minutes. So I sat at a table and worked on finishing writing my to-do list for my trip to Florida. I was trying to tell Amazon that, yes, I do want a tiny bottle of shampoo to comply with the TSA security theater. But, no, I do not want 8 tiny shampoos.

Oh, did you know they charge you a "9/11 tax" when you buy a plane ticket?

Spirit Airlines has a pretty funny alternative name for it...

"After 9/11, the U.S. implemented the “9/11 Security Tax”, which was a fee of $2.50 each way of a trip on top of the price of a plane ticket. In 2014, the 9/11 Security Tax was increased to $5.60 each way. So, for a round trip this fee would cost $11.20"

We are literally still paying for 9/11. And there is no evidence the enhanced security does much of anything.

So we pay this tax so they can force us to buy tiny shampoo and go through scanners that have to detect and blur our genitals so the TSA agent can't see.

Anyway... I finally get my pizza and head home. When I pulled into my driveway I noticed a bright moon in the sky. It looked so massive compared to other nights, so I tried to capture a moon selfie.

As a photographer, I should have realized that a wide angle lens is not going to capture how big the moon looked in the sky that night. Wide lenses exaggerate distance. So things close to the lens look huge and things far away look tiny. That's why we look like aliens if we hold our smartphones too close to our face. To the lens on your camera, the distance from the tip of your nose to your ears is quite vast. Which meens a celestial body that is 240,000 miles away looks like a tiny dot in the picture.

I still kept trying.

That could be a moon I guess.

Umm, Froggie... you got some moon in your hair.

Later I did try to capture the moon with my DSLR and an 80mm lens, but I guess the moon is just really far away or something.

ENHANCE!

A.I. upscaling reveals it is, in fact, the moon.

I ate my pizza and did a quick tire test and photoshoot.

And then I spent way too long Photoshopping this X-wing flying into my deep-as-heck tire tread.

And that was my day after the day.

Today, which is currently Thanksgiving, I slept.

I slept all night.

I slept most of the day.

I still want to sleep.

Weirdly, I am too tired to feel lonely. Though now that I wrote that, I am thinking about my parents being gone, so I just screwed that up.

But hey... at least my pizza was tasty.

#long post

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he-calls-me-kitten · 10 months

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I literally love ur blog sm! Do u think u can do just really soft sex with Satan after a long day at rad? If not that's fine but have a great day/night love!

Awww this is so adorable! Soft sex is so underrated honestly and it being with Satan?? The wrathful Avatar being gentle just for you? Oof my heart-

Thank you for the ask, love! So sorry for the extreme delay - it's such a lovely idea!

"You look like you've had quite a day." Satan smiled as you entered his room and plopped yourself down on his bed, next to him.

"Ugh don't ask." You groaned as he chuckled and put his arms around you. He didn't need to ask, you'd tell him anyway.

"So Levi and Mammon flooded the classroom because of a stupid bet of who can hold their breath under water the longest. Fyi it should have been Levi cause he's literally a water snake in his demon form but he forgot to transform and it ended on a tie."

Satan facepalmed. Must he call these imbeciles his 'brothers'? "I'm guessing that lead to a tie-breaker." He said, running his fingers through your hair.

"Yes and Beel and Asmo got involved. It was a duo challenge now of who is a better team player! And as you can guess Asmo and Beel kept getting distracted and it ended up being a solo effort by Mammon and Levi. Which again... wait for it... ended in a TIE. But now guess who is the new tie-breaker?"

"Oh no, MC..."

"Oh yes MC! I had to run 3 laps with each of them in a weird relay race! I've had it with today!" You say, hiding your face in his pillow. His scent was always so relaxing.

"Well thank you for still coming to see me after all that." Satan smiles, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

You peeked up and looked at his softened gaze. In times like these, he never denies even your most ridiculous requests.

"Hold me tight." You said and watched color rush to his cheeks. You turned towards him as he eased his arms around you, with your neck buried in his neck.

"I can do a little more than that...if you'd like." He said as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. The way his fingers inched under your top, asking for permission replenished all the energy you lost through the day.

"I'd like that."

Satan pressed a kiss against your mouth just as you uttered the words. Your lips opened on their own, letting his tongue slip in and entice moans from you.

Patient yet passionate you couldn't understand how he did it, you were just happy to be on the receiving end. From your lips to cheeks, right down to your neck - he marked his love on you little by little.

"You... you're really beautiful..." Satan paused after he'd pulled your tshirt off. You blushed under his intense gaze as you pulled his green sweater off him and hugged him, hiding your face in his shoulder.

He groaned deliciously at the contact between your bare skins, bucking his groin into your hips almost involuntarily. Fingers hooking into your waistband, he pulled off your shorts next.

"S-Satan...need more ...please..." No his fingers wouldn't be enough. He was pleased really, he didn't know how long he could have held back anymore. He took off his pants and showed you exactly how much he wanted you.

"You're so ready for me, kitten... So good for me..." He whispered and kissed your cheeks as you screamed in pleasure at his thrusts.

You don't know how long it went on but you know you had the best sleep right after.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year

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batfam x male child reader who likes collecting buttons and random things but also likes stealing random weapons bc they look cool like steals knives from damien and has gotten his hands on jason’s funda few times

Thanks for the idea anon! Sorry this took a while and I may have taken it to another direction, so I still hope you like this.

Summary: (Y/N) is a magnet for weapons. Especially if they are the property of his older brothers.

Warnings: Weapons, (Y/N) always getting his hands on weapons, Bruce being stressed and tired.

Bruce didn't notice that (Y/N) had a liking towards weapons until the boy was 3. As any baby, he would want shiny and colorful things. It was only natural for babies. The boys knew that and always made sure to have something colorful on hand to entertain the boy.

But when he reached 3, he would seem to like weapons. Especially if it was from his brother's. (Y/N) would find a way to weapons, one way or another. The boys were sometimes careless and left weapons laying around, which scared the living lights out of Bruce more than one time.

Jason has even said that once (Y/N) grows up, he will be the most annoying Robin ever. And it's not like Bruce has started training him a little. Just in case something happens.

So, as fate would have, he was not gifted by a normal child, that likes baseball or some other sport or that likes something related to art. He got a kid that adores weapons. Almost a Damian 2.0.

Alfred would say he would grow out of it, he is just imitating his older brothers, but Bruce wasn't so sure. He really wasn't. So, to avoid such situations, Bruce told the boys to keep their weapons under lock and key. That was directed to Damian and Jason.

Now, the boy is 5 and... Bruce is even more stressed. (Y/N) is a magnet for weapons and he didn't start liking anything else. Bruce has tried. Baseball, drawing, collecting stamps, reading... But no... He has a 5th child who was in love with weapons.

So, the stress was now tripled.

Bruce got home from work, ready to go to bed and take a nap. He knew that (Y/N) would also like a nap, so he went to look for him. What he heard instead, made him regret coming home.

" (Y/N), give me back my knife! " Damian's voice rang out and it made him sigh. Not again.

He got ready as the footsteps got closer and closer. And once he saw (H/C) hair, he swooped him up, being careful of the knife.

" Papa! " (Y/N) exclaimed in surprise.

" (Y/N), what did we say about taking Damian's weapons? Especially his knifes? " Bruce asked, taking the knife and handing it back to Damian.

" Damian gave it to me. "

Bruce simply hummed and adjusted his youngest in his arms.

" (Y/N)… What did we say about taking blades? "

" That we shouldn't take them, but they are so pretty. Especially Damian's! " (Y/N) exclaimed, waving his arms around.

" I know, but they are also dangerous. "

(Y/N) pouted and simply leaned on Bruce's chest. He was slightly tired from all running around. Especially after stressing and getting Bruce some gray hairs.

" You tired bud? "

" Yes... Can you stay with me dad? "

Bruce smiled at him and nodded. He walked to his bedroom, before gently throwing his son on the bed. (Y/N) let out an oof, before giggling. Bruce quickly went to the bathroom and changed into some more comfortable clothes before snuggling his youngest son.

" Dad? "

" Yes bud? "

" Will I ever have blades? Like Damian and Jason? "

Bruce wanted to say no, you won't be surrounded by weapons, you will enjoy your life without them. And not damage my furniture.

" One day, when you get older. Your brothers will even teach you how to take care of them. "

" Really?! " (Y/N) asked, all excited.

" Yes. But for now, we can go to sleep. You did say that you are tired. "

(Y/N) didn't say anything, simply snuggling into Bruce's chest. Bruce put the covers higher and closed his eyes, making sure that his son was close to him.

Bruce sighed as he overlooked the preparations for the gala. Everything looked like perfect and more importantly, all the blades were... Somewhere safe, far away from (Y/N)'s reach. Not to mention they still had to monitor the young boy, hoping he wouldn't get his hands on any types of weapons. He doesn't want a headline in the news tomorrow.

" Okay guys, keep an eye on (Y/N). We can't have him running around with a blade in his hands. " Bruce said, tired.

Bruce got promises that there was going to be extra supervision over (Y/N). Maybe he will have a gala that won't be a disaster. For once... Bruce shook his head. Something is definitely going to go wrong tonight, something warranting a headline tomorrow.

Why does this always happen to him?

" Are you alright master Bruce? " Alfred asked, carrying the small bundle of joy that gives Bruce new gray hairs everyday.

" I have a feeling that something is going to go wrong Alfred. " Bruce said, opening his arms to take the young boy into his arms.

" Are we talking headline wrong master Bruce? "

" I don't want to say yes, but that's what I'm worried about. "

Bruce glanced down at the youngest, who was pouting.

" What's wrong bud? "

" I don't like this suit dad. "

Bruce adjusted him in his arms and gave him a kiss to the side of the head.

" I think there is an another reason, am I right? " Bruce smiled at his son.

(Y/N) had no access to blades for the whole day and was unhappy and grumpy. Bruce was proud of his boys for making sure that the blades were taken care of. Especially Damian and Jason.

(Y/N) didn't respond, simply looking away. Bruce chuckled at his son's behavior. He is a truly stubborn person.

" Oh don't be sad bud. "

Jason came into the room, wanting to hold (Y/N). Bruce gave him the toddler and Jason turned on his big brother magic.

" Don't be sad. " Jason said leaving the room. He knew Bruce wouldn't like to hear this.

" You know what we can do bud? " Jason asked waiting for the response. He got a shake of the head.

" We can sneak into Damian's room later and take a look at his blades, but, " Jason interrupted the excited child, " You need to be good tonight. No misbehaving. Now, give me a pinky promise. " Jason said, looping their pinkies together.

" Good. "

Now the only thing he needs is to let Damian know about the plan.

Bruce was suspicious of his youngest son. He was far too... Good. He wasn't creating chaos with the help of his brothers, so Bruce was confused and suspicious. He finished up a talk with one of his partners and looked for Jason. He knows Jason has something to do with this. He was the last one to talk with (Y/N) and he is behaving all of a sudden.

He found him at the table with food.

" Hey old man. "

" What did you say to (Y/N)? " Bruce asked, getting right to the point.

" What do you mean? " Jason asked, tilting his head to the right.

" Why is (Y/N) behaving? You are usually helping him with creating chaos around here. "

" I didn't do anything Bruce. " Jason said, leaving a frustrated Bruce behind.

He sighed as he turned to look at his son. He was with Damian and talking to Jon Kent. Speaking of the Kents, he needs to find Clark. Clark is (Y/N)'s favorite uncle and Clark will be able to talk to (Y/N) without making it sound suspicious.

" How's it going Bruce? " Clark asked.

" I don't know. (Y/N) is behaving well and I am suspicious. You need to use your uncle powers and talk to him. "

Clark chuckled at the uncle powers. He knew that (Y/N) loved him a lot.

" I will try to fish something out of him. "

" Thank you Clark. "

Clark got nothing. (Y/N) was either behaving because he wanted to or he was hiding something.

" Nothing Bruce. "

" What? " Bruce asked.

" Yup. He is either behaving well just because he wants to or he is hiding something. Nothing in between. "

" Oh (Y/N), what are you doing to me? "

He glanced at his son, now with Tim and Dick, who guarding him from the reporters who clearly wanted to talk to young boy.

The gala was over, there was no trouble and the boys went up to their rooms. Bruce talked with Clark for a bit, before escorting him out and going upstairs to his own room.

He stopped by Damian's once he heard Jason and some laughing that was far too child like. He opened the door and sighed. (Y/N) was on the carpet in the room, Damian sitting on his bed, looking amused. Jason was next to (Y/N) holding Damian's blades while (Y/N) was hypnotized by them.

" So this is the reason why he was behaving so well. " Bruce said.

(Y/N) didn't even react to Bruce being here.

" Okay, 15 more minutes then he is off to bed and we are off to patrol. Okay? " Bruce asked both of his sons.

They both nodded and Bruce went to the cave. He laughed to himself for a second, relishing in the fact that if (Y/N) wants to become a Robin, he will be the most annoying one.

#bruce wayne x child!male reader #batman x child!male reader #dc comics #dc x male reader #jason todd x male reader

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girlboypersonthingy · 5 days

Note

i’ve never really asked before but i just read all of your sally face stuff and BFBSVAVAX so i was thinking….

(preferably afab) reader coming home tired and needy, walking in sal and their shared room sighing as they rip off their work shirt and stare at sal who’s practicing a new song. waiting for him to put his guitar aside they fall dramatically into his lap and start COVERING his mask in kisses, stopping suddenly to ask for a real kiss:3

just some fluffy stuff pls it’s been a LONGGGG few weeks:D

A D O R A B L E ! ! ! This week has def been a ‘I want to come home to Sal and collapse in his arms’ type of week for me like oof 😔…I’m sorry this took me a while to get to, I hope you’re alright. Hopefully you’re doing better by now and if not, plz feel free to message me and we can chat 🖤 thanks for requesting and enjoy!

Notes: fem!reader, this is really fucking silly I’m so sorry…

TW: a bit suggestive, lots of swearing, making out, spit/drool, boobs lol 18+ only!!!

Sal x reader- Hard Day 🌙

(Imagine Sal practicing this song while you read this 🖤)

“Fuuuuuuckkkk…” You groan loudly as you drag your feet through the doorway of the house, stomping loudly on each step of the stairs. As you near the door way of your bedroom, you see the light is on, the music is loud and you can hear Sal playing his guitar along to it, occasionally hitting the wrong note. As you step across the threshold of the room, you let loose a big breath of air as you slouch over a bit, catching Sal’s attention for a moment.

“Hey babe!” He shouts over the music while continuing with his playing. He was sat up on the corner of the bed, guitar in his lap, slouched over with his prosthetic still on. You couldn’t help but watch his fingers on the strings for a moment, black painted nails moving oh so smooth but still making little mistakes. “Hi…I’m so tired.” You say but it falls on deaf ears. Sal is just so close to nailing this one part of the song, he’s been trying for two and half hours now and he’s too close to quit.

Disappointed and a bit annoyed, you quickly shed your shirt and continue giving Sal a cranky but needy glare, only covered by a bra up top. “Sal!!!” You finally shout, making Sal look up, making his hands freeze for a moment. He quickly leans over to turn the music off, his blue hair swaying over his shoulders as he moves. “I’m sorry…uh hey…babe. You okay?” Just by the tone of his voice, the way he’s hesitating and stopping to lick his dry lips under his mask, you can tell he’s equally flustered and excited by your lack of clothes.

“No…I’m not…” You pout for a moment, sighing as you rub your aching temples. He sets his guitar aside and puts one hand out towards you, offering it as a comforting gesture. You gladly accept, grabbing his hand then quickly approaching him and sitting in his lap. “This week…was the fucking worst!” You cry out dramatically, turning to the side so he can hold you bridal style. “I just wanna stay home with you all day, every day.” Sal chuckles softly, one arm tucked up under your knees, the other cradling your back while his hand ruffles the hair on the nape of your neck. “Me too, babe. Me too…” He replies before he gently nuzzles his prosthetic up against your face, making kissy noises under it.

After enough of his cuddly kisses, you decided to return the favor, covering his mask in kisses. You pepper kisses everywhere, all over his prosthetic very quick and soft. Until finally, you pause and place a long kiss on the lips of his prosthetic, humming as a smile grows on your lips. “You know what would really make me feel better…?” You really drag out the words, using your best flirty voice as your finger traces the side of his mask. “What?” He quickly clears his throat, your faces only inches apart. His rapid breathing echos inside his prosthetic as his hand slides up to fully cradle your head.

“Kiss me for real…please?” Your flirty tone turns to a very soft, comforting type of tone, smiling up at him as you watch him blink down at you. There’s a pause, he hesitates for a moment before gulping nervously. Although you’ve seen his face many times before, mouth to mouth kisses were hard to come by with Sal. With a shaky hand, he grabs your own hand and guides it to the back of his head, gesturing for you to unclip his prosthetic for him. He was far too nervous to do it himself, he figured he’d let you set the pace.

To his surprise, you’re pretty quick with the buckles and the mask falls into your lap within seconds. Immediately, your lips meet, Sal uses that hand on the back of your head to push you into him further. As your arms snake around his neck, hugging him close to your nearly bare chest, his other hand is gently kneading your hip as you move your lips against his. The kiss began to rapidly pick up pace, his tongue occasionally licking along your bottom lip.

It was always a delightful shock when your lips or tongue would meet his teeth accidentally where they peek through his cheek and the corner of his mouth, now was no exception. Any time this happens, Sal usually shies away and assumes it grosses you out, especially when he knows he’s probably drooling. Expecting this would happen, you move one hand to the back of his head, matching the grasp he has on you to keep him engaged in the kiss.

A low moan comes from him as he deepens the kiss along with you, tilting his head and running his tongue along your own. Suddenly, clumsily, Sal grabs ahold of your legs and slowly lays back on the bed, pulling you along with him, trying to keep his lips on yours. He fails at this, your lips parting for a moment, him awkwardly shifting under you until he pulls you up closer to his bright red and slightly sweaty face. You can’t help but laugh, not at him, he’s just too cute when he gets like this,

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he holds you closer, squeezing you tightly against him as he places a final kiss on your nose. “Are you feeling better?” He quickly leans back in for a few more tender lip kisses, smiling brightly as he pulls back. “Yes, sooooo much better. You know what would really make me happy though, Sally?” Your hands run slowly through his long, blue hair as he hums in response. “Hm?”

“Let’s do all of that again…but in a nice hot shower~”

Cue Sal getting a gruesome bloody nose as he glances down at your barely covered chest and thinks about having a shower with you. 🥴🖤

#sally face fanfic #sally face fanfiction #sal sally face #sally face sal #sally x reader #sal x reader #sal fisher #sally fisher #sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x you #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher smut #sally face fluff #sally face fandom

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